There are few things more irksome than needless waste—in design (over-packaging) or elsewhere (cable modems with no “off” button). I have a particular obsession with reducing electricity usage—I use surge suppressors to avoid phantom power loads and I’m doing my best to resist using the AC this summer. Electricity usage equals carbon dioxide emissions and consumption of fossil fuel resources, which we would be wise not to use mindlessly.

So you can imagine my ire when I entered a Manhattan eatery where the menu was displayed on not one but three flat-screen TVs. One screen displayed the specials, another displayed the appetizers, soups, and main plates, and the third displayed information about the salads. What was particularly gratuitous about this multimedia display was that there was, in fact, no multimedia element to it whatsoever. The menus were displayed as static images—nothing moved or changed on the screens the entire time I was there. Thus, the screens had no advantages to recommend them over a printed menu or back-lit menu board, both of which would have been significantly cheaper and more energy efficient. If you want to put your menu on a flat-screen, and waste your money, fine. But at least do something interesting with it. This menu was the restaurant equivalent of TV color bars.

Beyond the form-function dissonance, imagine the amount of electricity that this joint is throwing down the tube in order to run the three flat screens and the computer that serves up the images. And while there is a compelling debate nowadays about whether print or digital media causes more harm to the planet, that argument wasn’t even applicable here, since three TVs are obviously far more wasteful than the other options available.

As more technology enters our cultural bloodstream, there is an undeniable temptation to switch to the latest tech bauble even when that platform is more expensive and doesn’t add any value to the project you’re designing. But it’s like hiring out a ten-megaton fleet of cars when a bicycle will do. The excess is simply not necessary.

As upset as I was when I encountered this superfluous use of tech, it gave me an idea: This is an ideal business opportunity for enterprising designers. Those who are interested in expanding their portfolio should approach places like this—and others similarly indulgent—with a crib sheet listing the advantages of switching to more responsible fare: 1) You can save money in the short- and long-term. 2) You can lower your environmental impact. 3) You can get a better-looking menu. If I was a business owner, and someone came into my restaurant with an offer to save me some money, I would be only too happy to listen.

Indeed, there are probably numerous opportunities that abound like this. See an overpackaged product? Figure out who oversees packaging design at the company in question, and write to the person with your recommendations and a description of advantages, environmental and otherwise, for reduced packaging. Johnson & Johnson and others have saved money through strategies like lightweighting or removing fancy package-engineering feats that added frills but aren’t completely necessary.

I don’t mean to be simplistic. I realize that getting work for a big company is usually more complicated than writing to a packaging manager with an idea about how the biz can reduce packaging. But it can’t hurt to try, and, in the process, raise awareness and develop your own argumentation about the issue. And designers can also look for opportunities with smaller companies that might be more approachable yet need similar guidance on reducing design waste. For those in New York, there’s a business prospect waiting for you in the vicinity of the southeast corner of 29th Street and Park Ave. South. Good luck!