30 de Março
2005
Fantastic Kathleen Bader wants
to save the world from polluting oil plastics with her healthy corn
polymers.
Racked with sleep-robbing back spasms, Kathlen Bader marches across
a wintry parking lot toward a plastics factory in Blair, Nebr., hard
hat perched atop her red hair, protective eyewear on, her panty-hosed
feet slipping and sliding in blue flats caked with snow. "Wait
till you see this factory, it's so cool," Bader shouts behind
her as she tramps up a metal staircase sheathed in ice.
Bader, 54 years old, cuts quite a figure in the male-dominated plastics
industry, much as she did in her 32 years at Dow Chemical, becoming
the only woman on Dow's executive management team. By delivering $2.5
billion in operating efficiencies over the course of four years and
by turning around Dow's hemorrhaging polystyrene business, Bader built
a reputation as a cost-cutter and marketer nonpareil.
But a year ago Bader left a prestigious, cushy Dow posting in Zurich
to take on what she calls the biggest fight of her life: getting the
world to kick its habit of consuming plastics made from oil and start
using corn-based plastic instead. The fruited plains of Nebraska are
where the intervention will begin.
The factory in Blair, opened in 2002, is the property of NatureWorks,
a joint venture initially backed with a $300 million investment split
between Dow, the world's most profitable chemical company, and Cargill,
the world's largest private company and largest grain merchant. The
factory can produce 300 million pounds of a polymer called polylactic
acid, derived from bacteria that feed on corn kernels. Cargill bought
out Dow's interest early this year for an undisclosed amount.
Bader,
NatureWorks' chief executive, is on a mission to convince companies
that using biodegradable corn plastic won't cost them any more than
using petrochemicals and will do the environment a huge favor. Some
of the world's trash dumps are so big they can be seen from outer
space. A swirling reef of bottles, bags and netting already spans
hundreds of miles in a windless dead zone of the Pacific Ocean. "Are
you going to be a litterer or a leader?" asks Bader.
Victory is a long, long way off. Oil is the bedrock of the world's
plastics industry, which uses it to produce 450 billion pounds of
plastics annually for everything from houses to computers. NatureWorks
currently produces 100 million pounds a year of polylactic acid, or
PLA.
Bader is going up against entrenched companies such as Eastman Chemical,
Wellman and her corporate alma mater, Dow. Bader has yet to land a
big-volume account such as Wal-Mart or Procter & Gamble. "Everyone
who hears our story says it makes so much sense," Bader sighs.
"The most frustrating thing is corporate caution; that yellow
light bulb blinks red faster than you can blink your eyes." Customers
are skeptical that corn plastic, which degrades within weeks into
water and carbon dioxide in the humid, 140-degree heat of a compressed
landfill, can handle a Houston summer in a 7-Eleven storeroom.
Even in benign storage conditions bottles made from oil-based polyethylene
terephthalate, or PET, far outlast NatureWorks' bottles, which start
to exhibit tiny dimples after eight months. Nor are the tree huggers
won over. Green clothier Patagonia has shunned Bader's corn plastic
over fears that the corn in question might be genetically modified.
"Companies just don't like change," says Bader. "Inertia
is always stronger than innovation, and environmental issues are not
the exciting thing chief executives want to spend time on."
While
packagers don't have to replace their equipment to handle corn plastics,
they still need persuasion that corn plastic is reliably cheaper than
oil plastic. If oil prices remain above $50, Bader can probably persuade
them.
To make 1,000 (16-ounce) bottles, you need as the main ingredient
either 82 pounds of corn kernels (worth $3) or 55 pounds of oil (worth
$10.41 if oil is $53 a barrel). Producers prior to NatureWorks were
spending some $200 to make 1 pound of PLA. NatureWorks has gotten
production costs below $1, thanks to continual improvements and the
ability to operate on the scale of the Blair factory. Bader says she
is selling PLA at the same 60 cents to 90 cents a pound that PET sells
for. But oil prices could collapse, as they did in the late 1990s.
"We were competitive with PET when oil was at 33 bucks a barrel
last April," says Bader. "Bottom line, we can and will meet
PET pricing." And Bader says she can do even better.
The Blair plant is only 3 years old versus the 30 years its competitors
have had to upgrade theirs. "We're operating below capacity,
and we've been evolving our bugs to spit out 25% more lactic acid
than they were a year ago, so that's going to raise our volume over
the next few years, and it will not matter if oil falls in price,"
she says. Bader's stronger selling point is environmentalism.
According to an analysis by Bruce Dale, a chemical engineering professor
at Michigan State University, growing 82 pounds of corn and making
it into 1,000 plastic bottles requires 36% less fossil fuel energy
and produces 44% less carbon dioxide than making the bottles out of
petroleum, even after you factor in the tractor diesel fuel and fertilizer
used by the corn farmers.
Bader
insists she won't go unnoticed for long. In the past year she has
doubled the number of corporate clients to 120. Versace, taken by
corn plastic's ability to mimic wool, cotton or silk, has begun weaving
apparel out of NatureWorks' Ingeo fibers. Families are now eating
Del Monte fruits and vegetables from corn plastic containers, listening
to Sony Walkmans made out of corn, drinking Biota water from corn
plastic bottles and soda at McDonald's out of corn cups. Sales were
up 60% last year to an estimated $30 million.
(Cargill won't release precise sales figures.) Bader targets 200 million
pounds by 2008. NatureWorks is still draining cash from its sponsor,
and Bader won't say how much sales the business needs before it's
self-funding. But given that Cargill netted $1.3 billion last year
and processes more corn than any company on Earth, it's fair to say
Cargill has the will and the way to afford NatureWorks.
Bader says her plastic salad tubs last as long as oil-based ones,
and she's getting set to launch a new plastic that holds up better
under heat than the existing polylactic. "Who wants to drink
out of an eight-month-old bottle, anyway?" Bader asks. She counters
her overly green critics by noting that modified corn genes are obliterated
by the high temperatures involved in making PLA.
Bader has been selling since kindergarten, schooled by Ohio and Michigan
nuns whom she calls the unsung heroes molding tomorrow's marketing
leaders. The Adrian Dominicans "had me selling everything and
anything to raise money for our new Regina High School in Midland,
Mich.--raffle tickets, candy, fruit, you name it," she says.
After graduating from St. Mary's of Notre Dame in 1972 and spending
six months picking grapes in Bordeaux, France, Bader headed back to
the States and asked her father about getting a sales job, just like
the one he had, at Dow Chemical.
But Bader says he chided her: "‘Now Kathleen, you'll be
one of just two women out of 1,800 salesmen worldwide, plus you've
got a degree in English, when we're only hiring chemical or engineering
degrees, plus we have a nepotism policy.'" But after Bader studied
Dow's annual report and bugged all her neighbors who worked for Dow
for information, she impressed her future bosses with her intimate
knowledge of the company. She got the job the day of her interview.
"I have been running uphill in high heels ever since," she
says.
While working behind the scenes to establish NatureWorks, Bader attended
an industry dinner in Spain in 1998. "Seeing that my name tag
read ‘Dow,' an executive of Elf Atochem, a French plastics company,
turned to me and said, ‘Who is the idiot at Dow who's going
to wreck our business with this new plant?'" she recalls. "I
replied, ‘I'm the idiot.'" His face went ashen.
By
2003 Bader was managing a $4 billion portfolio of chemical businesses,
but after three decades selling things like chlorine and bromine,
she had a "What am I doing with my life?" moment over a
Christmas dinner. "There was my younger sister, a special investigator
for the Indianapolis police department spending her days and nights
closing crack houses; my brother, who is a public defender; and my
Dad, who raised eight kids on a $40,000 salesman's salary," she
says. "I realized that by running NatureWorks, I had a chance
to do something that I believe will change the world."
When Andrew Liveris, Dow's chief executive, offered Bader the NatureWorks
job, she went for it. Bader soon discovered that the startup's 79
scientists were pursuing projects willy-nilly, things like corn plastic
tea bags, body bags and golf tees. She cut the number of R&D projects
from 16 to 2, focusing only on packaging and fibers. To get operating
costs down, she ordered the factory to make just 3 runs of PLA at
full tilt around the clock for a month each, instead of 12 runs per
year. "We went into a fast sprint, which cut back on expensive
startup and shutdown costs," she says.
Fifty-dollar oil has certainly helped her sales pitch. PET prices
are up 40% since 2003, and polystyrene has doubled since 2002, to
88 cents a pound. Switching to corn plastic a year ago saved Plastic
Suppliers, a midsize firm in Columbus, Ohio that sells to labelers
that supply Nestlé and Pillsbury. It had lost its biggest customer,
a client good for 16 million pounds a year, in July 2003. "NatureWorks'
prices didn't rise at all," says Chief Executive Theodore Riegert.
"We expect to save a half-million dollars a year with the move."
Eleanor Newman, daughter of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward and an
owner of Newman's Own Organics, signed up for corn plastic "because
it's much cleaner than petrochemical plastic, it's biodegradable and
potentially recyclable." Wild Oats also increased deli sales
12% in 2004 after it put "corn-tainers" in 80 of its stores
in the U.S. and Canada.
Meanwhile, Japan, Taiwan and South Korea have passed laws restricting
the use of disposable, noncompostable packaging. "We're offering
companies a chance to preempt embarrassing demands for responsible
packaging," Bader warns. "Brands that wait for legislative
fiat will be left behind and exposed."
The Cargill venture has attracted traditional plasticsmakers into
the corn game. German giant BASF has a starch-based polymer, and DuPont
has brought in Britain's Tate & Lyle to begin production in 2006
of a partially corn-based polymer called Sorona. Bader smiles through
it all.
She heard recently that the coffin industry in Holland plans to use
corn plastic because it's more Earth-friendly than oil resins. Out
came her new slogan: "It's the ultimate package. We biodegrade
with you."
Fonte: Forbes.com
/ Companies / People / Ideas
Por: Elisabeth McDonald