Knitting advice Nr.11: Don’t buy superwash wool (part 1)

That’s it. That’s the advice. Don’t buy superwash. It’s bad for the environment, it’s bad for people living near the plants that scour and superwash wool. I am aware that these posts about superwash are likely to be the most unwanted and contentious ones I will ever write on this blog. But I have to.

As a Christian, I firmly believe it is my duty to speak out against practices that contribute to environmental destruction and pose great health risks to textile industry workers and communities living near these processing plants. Superwash wool is a common choice in the knitting world, and I, like many, have unknowingly contributed to the problem for most of my knitting years. It’s only recently that I’ve discovered the existence of non-superwashed Merino wool and, even more recently, the severe environmental and health repercussions associated with superwash wool. While some argue that the superwash process is ‘not sustainable,’ the truth is far graver: superwash isn’t merely unsustainable; it’s an ecological disaster. With no Planet B in sight, we’re dealing with something truly destructive – that’s the stark reality of superwash.

That’s why, in this series of posts, I won’t dwell on the pros and cons of superwash from the knitting consumer’s perspective. Instead, we’ll delve deep into the very core of the issue. We’ll unravel what the superwash process entails, its origins, and the exact nature of its impact on our health and the environment. Moreover, I will argue that 1) the demand for superwash wool is a creation of the yarn industry, 2) superwash wool is not as convenient as it’s often portrayed, 3) we’ll explore alternative options to superwash, and 4) I’ll implore the knitting community to take collective and individual action to paving the way for a responsible and environmentally-friendly practice of knitting.

But before digging into the whole superwash issue, let me clarify why my perspective is more direct, more abrasive, or even completely at odds with some other voices. In my opinion, the key reason is my complete lack of commercial interests in the wool industry. I don’t have ties to yarn shops, seek contracts with major wool brands, raise sheep, dye yarn independently, or depend on customer purchasing habits to make a living. I also don’t have close friends or family working in the industry. In short, I have no conflicts of interest, and my stance won’t risk alienating anyone close to me. Speaking from such a standpoint – it’s easier to have an honest and evidence-based conversation, isn’t it?

The second reason why I can write about the superwash process in a rather detailed way is that I have free and legal access to many scientific papers through Wikipedia. Once you’ve made 500 modifications on Wikipedia and maintain at least 10 modifications per month, you gain free and legal access to numerous scientific journals. This might be another reason why the conclusions I’ve reached regarding superwash differ from those of many well-meaning knitters. Scientific articles are incredibly expensive if you don’t have access to them through Wikipedia or an academic institution you happen to be part of, in contrast to the freely available PR communication from the wool industry. Their communication follows the narrative of ‘Yes, the superwash process isn’t 100% sustainable, but we’re working hard to make it more environmentally friendly, and a rosy future is ahead.’ I will argue that this is far from the truth, and I feel confident in my conclusions as I can rely on references that outline the most commonly used superwash process and how little the wool industry is succeeding in addressing the situation.