Rima Grace

But when sustainability gets pitted against creating jobs and boosting local revenue, it's not a very popular political campaign.

So the deck is stacked against composting in Ohio.

Nathan Rutz is committed to trying anyway.

He's director of soil at Rust Belt Riders, a small group in Cleveland collecting roughly 4,000 tons of food scraps annually to turn it into compost.

He's touring me around their headquarters filled with dozens of what look like standard black garbage pickup cans brimming with food scraps and some very well-fed bugs.

Right here.

Oh, yeah, look at that.

Oh, there they are.

These cans get deployed at drop-off sites all around greater Cleveland, collected, turned into compost, and sold.

Rutz estimates his company processes roughly 1% of the food scraps generated here.

This is another composting service that costs money.

And residents have to drive their food scraps to drop-off locations or pay more to get it picked up.

Way more expensive than tossing it in the trash can they're already paying for.

Rutz is trying anyway because, despite the headwinds, some people are willing to pay to be more sustainable.

His business and composting throughout Ohio are growing.

In the past decade, free drop-off sites for food scraps have cropped up in dozens of cities across the state.

Because without state policies, local governments are still working on their own sustainability goals.

In Cleveland, Ohio, I'm Kaylee Wells for Marketplace.

This final note on the way out, you can file it under.

Oh, this is probably most definitely because of inflation, right?