Sunday, August 16, 2026: I was reflecting on your idea of "unrecycling"—I believe "unrecycling" is less powerful than "organic". You see, plastics and other polymers are "unrecyclable" (with exceptions, for example soft plastics tend not to be recyclable, while hard plastics like PET bottles tend to be recyclable). However, an unrecyclable plastic sounds like a soft plastic (the one that contaminates the pipeline of the recycling process). Organic reminds something like banana peels, eggshells, and loam that can turn into fertilisers and generate new life. In your case, I believe your framework is organic education, rather than unrecycling—but I may be wrong.
You may actually be right on the metaphor, but I think this is precisely why I’m attached to “Unrecycled.”
For me it isn’t branding. It’s a promise, and quite a personal one for that matter. I’ve spent years watching education recycle content, formats, assumptions and even language long after the world outside the classroom has moved on. I’ve also caught myself doing it, which is probably the more uncomfortable part…
So Unrecycled is me putting some skin in the game. If I use the word publicly, I lose the right to hide behind last year’s slides, safe teaching habits or ideas I no longer really believe in. It forces me to keep rebuilding what I do.
“Organic” is warmer, for sure, and perhaps even more elegant, but Unrecycled has teeth. And I need the teeth.
Sunday, August 16, 2026: I was reflecting on your idea of "unrecycling"—I believe "unrecycling" is less powerful than "organic". You see, plastics and other polymers are "unrecyclable" (with exceptions, for example soft plastics tend not to be recyclable, while hard plastics like PET bottles tend to be recyclable). However, an unrecyclable plastic sounds like a soft plastic (the one that contaminates the pipeline of the recycling process). Organic reminds something like banana peels, eggshells, and loam that can turn into fertilisers and generate new life. In your case, I believe your framework is organic education, rather than unrecycling—but I may be wrong.
You may actually be right on the metaphor, but I think this is precisely why I’m attached to “Unrecycled.”
For me it isn’t branding. It’s a promise, and quite a personal one for that matter. I’ve spent years watching education recycle content, formats, assumptions and even language long after the world outside the classroom has moved on. I’ve also caught myself doing it, which is probably the more uncomfortable part…
So Unrecycled is me putting some skin in the game. If I use the word publicly, I lose the right to hide behind last year’s slides, safe teaching habits or ideas I no longer really believe in. It forces me to keep rebuilding what I do.
“Organic” is warmer, for sure, and perhaps even more elegant, but Unrecycled has teeth. And I need the teeth.