My milk bottle label proclaims that the milk comes from cows not treated with rBST/rBGH hormones, implicitly suggesting it matters. Below that statement is a government-mandated note saying that it makes no difference. The effect on the consumer is udder confusion. The muddle over milk is just the latest chapter for the food industry, which struggled for years to define vague concepts such as natural, organic, and free-range. Eco-labeling, for lack of a better term, has also spread to household products.  It includes some better known ones such as Green Seal, and some lesser ones, such as the Leaping Bunny logo, signifying that a product was developed with a compassion for animals. In an effort to provide some clarity, a Consumer Reports web site, www.greenerchoices.org, lists about 150 of such eco-labels and rates them by criteria such as meaningfulness, verifiableness, consistency, and availability of the standards.

No industry is immune from this trend, even publishing — you can find an eco-label on the lower right hand corner of this page. So it is not surprising to see a light flurry of eco-labels begin falling over the realm of technology products. Energy labels, like EPA’s Energy Star, are the clearest because they address a quantifiable attribute determined by a standardized test. By contrast, the Blue Angel, a German eco-label, has a long list of criteria, and qualifying decisions are made by a jury consisting of various associations, public officials, trade unions, and churches.

But the haziest area for green credentials involves materials. There are products made from materials that can be recycled, but may or may not be recycled, and products made from recycled materials, but to varying percentages. Things get even murkier regarding the potential for harm. While everyone is on the same page regarding CFCs and mercury, many heatedly disagree on the use of phthalates, bisphenol-a, and brominated flame retardants in plastics. And Europeans and Americans differ on the use of HFC refrigerants.

Another point of contention may arise in the emergent category of bioplastics, loosely defined as plastic not made from petroleum. Bioplastic strikes a romantic chord at first, but could quickly sound discordant if derived from corn and widespread use further impinges upon the world’s food supply. There’s another problem with it, even if made from waste, bioplastics can’t be recycled with petroleum plastics, and creating a separate recycling stream would likely reduce the plastics recycling rate, currently only at 6 percent in the U.S.

More important than the question of what defines green is who defines it. Right now, the answer is anybody who feels like it. Self-appointed watchdog Greenpeace has a rigorous set of green electronics criteria by which it ranks makers of consumer electronics. An industry group called the LCD TV Association has established its own criteria for its recently unveiled GreenTV logo program. And last year Philips Electronics launched its green tick logo program. Not surprisingly, the most important criterion for earning this eco-label is that the product be made by Philips.

We will see more such green credentialing efforts in the years ahead, and they may positively impact the way in which technology goods are made and purchased. But without a consensus on green standards or a rational process for certifying them, the whole concept can descend into chaos. The cascade of eco-labels presents a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it increases awareness and concern. On the other, the clatter of conflicting messages threatens to create a white noise that simply numbs the senses and causes everyone to simply tune out. The challenge that lies ahead is how to clarify the color green. If confusion begins to muddy it, the color may quickly pass out of fashion.

Richard Babyak, Editor
E-mail: babyakr@bnpmedia.com