It Can Only Good Happen

For my day job, I run a social media engagement and moderation agency.

One of our clients is B.C.’s provincial beverage container recycling stewardship program, Return-It. When you comment on a post of theirs, or send them a DM, or tweet at them, it’s secretly my team on the other end of the screen replying.

Their organization, like a lot of similar groups in Canada, came from pretty humble beginnings.

A lot of the best ideas don’t start with government commissions or think tanks or whichever consultant Ottawa is paying $900 an hour this week. They start in places like church basements, borrowed storefronts, and kitchen tables.

Bottle-refund programs, recycling co-ops, and credit unions all began this way. They looked small, like a church bake sale. But they spread. And stuck. And now they’re baked into the way we live.

I thought I’d spend a bit of time this week reflecting on how small starts can make a big difference.

Bottle Refund Programs

In 1970, British Columbia decided to try something new: charge a nickel extra for your pop bottle, give it back when you return the empties. Simple. Low-tech. No blockchain required.

People thought it was a nuisance at first, of course, but it worked. Other provinces copied the idea, and before long we were all cashing in bags of bottles at sticky depots that smelled like a frat house on Sunday morning.

Today, Canadians return 76% of all beverage containers purchased (compared to the U.S. national average of 62%). That’s tens of billions of bottles and cans every year. And all because someone in B.C. figured out people will move mountains for a nickel.

Recycling Before the Blue Box

In the 1970s, long before the city picked up your recycling at the curb, neighbourhood co-ops did it themselves. Volunteers collected newspapers, tin, and glass. They sorted it in garages and community centres.

It was clunky, inefficient, and about as glamorous as a basement Tupperware party. But it forced cities to pay attention. By the 1980s, the blue box rolled out, and suddenly Canadians were a “recycling nation.” All it took was a few stubborn neighbours who refused to let garbage pile up.

Credit Unions on the Kitchen Table

The first Canadian credit union started in Lévis, Quebec, in 1900. Alphonse Desjardins and some friends pooled their savings so regular working people could access loans without begging the big banks.

From that kitchen table, the idea spread. Small towns started their own credit unions. Farmers relied on them. Families trusted them.

Today, Canadian credit unions hold over $400 billion in assets. Not bad for something that started with a few people passing the hat.

The Canadian Pattern

Governments can do good things, but it’s not always our elected officials parachuting in with silver-bullet solutions. Often, it’s regular people spotting a problem, rolling up their sleeves, and building something themselves.

We’re not usually loud about it. We don’t put up billboards that scream “WORLD’S GREATEST RECYCLERS.” But we do the work, and eventually the rest of the country comes along.

It’s easy to feel powerless these days. Big problems—housing, health care, climate change—look impossible. Ottawa looks paralyzed half the time. The provinces aren’t much better.

But remember: bottle refunds, blue boxes, and credit unions all looked tiny at first. Laughably tiny. Yet they reshaped the way we live.

So when people say nothing changes, or that grassroots efforts don’t matter, that’s just wrong.

Change in this country doesn’t usually start with Parliament.

It starts with us.