Speak up Be heard: Sustainability

The introduction of Oscar Sort artificial intelligence-powered waste sorting systems to Arizona State University (ASU) campuses is being marketed as a cutting-edge innovation for sustainability. However, beneath the surface of this seemingly progressive initiative lies a troubling misuse of resources that represents fraud, waste, and abuse. Far from a responsible application of technology, this effort exemplifies a disturbing trend of deploying expensive, over-engineered solutions to problems that do not require artificial intelligence in the first place.

At its core, Oscar Sort is a glorified digital trash can—an AI system programmed to identify whether a coffee cup or a plastic lid belongs in a recycling, compost, or landfill bin. This is a function that could be easily fulfilled by clear signage, student education, and color-coded containers, all at a fraction of the cost. The deployment of AI here does not represent innovation; it represents inefficiency dressed up as sustainability.

Public universities have a responsibility to their students and taxpayers to use funds judiciously. Investing in high-tech waste sorting machines when cheaper, proven methods already exist is a clear example of fiscal waste. These machines not only require upfront investment, but they also come with ongoing maintenance, software updates, data storage, and likely vendor contracts—all of which funnel resources away from classrooms, student services, and academic infrastructure. When public funds or tuition dollars are misallocated in this way, it verges on fraudulent use of institutional trust and budgetary discretion.

The rationale that Oscar Sort will “educate” students or “provide data” to improve waste habits is both patronizing and misleading. College students are fully capable of understanding how to sort trash with minimal instruction. If ASU truly aims to educate, it should invest in curriculum development, outreach campaigns, and community engagement—not flashy AI tools that do the thinking for people. The idea that this machine will somehow revolutionize recycling habits borders on technological evangelism, not grounded environmental policy.

Moreover, using AI for trivial or symbolic purposes devalues its legitimate applications. AI should be focused on solving complex problems—such as medical diagnosis, climate modeling, or fraud detection—not sorting plastic utensils in student unions. This sort of frivolous deployment contributes to the growing skepticism about AI’s role in society and opens the door to even greater abuses of public trust under the guise of innovation.

For most of it's history, West has been largely a commuter campus. It's becoming much more residential and growing like crazy. However, we don't have the bike infrastructure that Tempe has. I would gladly bike to work, coming in from just 1.5 miles to the west. However, 2 things interfere. First, Wood Drive coming in from the southwest part of campus lacks bike lanes. It has narrow shoulders, often gravelly, and the desert vegetation obscures line of sight for drivers, making this a hazardous route. Expanding to include bike lanes and trimming the brush would fix this. Second, there are no bike cages. (Bike valets would be overkill at West). There's no way I'm going to lock my expensive bike up to a regular outdoor rack and risk theft and exposure to elements. Where I work we are prohibited from bringing bikes into the building. A bike cage at the fitness center would fix this. So--a growing student population will eventually demand a more bike friendly environment. Creating safe passage and security for bikes would proactively address this for both students and staff, resulting in healthier people and less cars on campus.