Untangling the unseen stories of the hair industry

On the streets of Varanasi in India, working as a waste collector is one way to earn money. It requires spending time at the dump or with rubbish left on the street, sifting through to find gold – discarded objects that still have enough value to be resold or recycled.

As the saying goes, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.  

When Professor Assa Doron was in India on a research trip, he observed the waste pickers unpacking their bags at the end of a day’s work. Alongside plastic containers, electronics and mobile phones, he noticed they had also collected hair.

“I just saw that they were separating these scrawny pieces of hair from where they picked it up – whether it’s from the gutters or it was entangled in some other form of waste – and they put it in a separate box,” he says.

Confused, he asked why they were collecting hair.

“They said, well, it fetches a high price.”

Finding the king of hair

It can be difficult to put a dollar price the business of hair. Estimates from 2023 suggest the global market for wigs and hair extensions is worth approximately US$8 billion and is expected to grow to US$11.91 billion by 2029.

And while there are many sources for this trade, including synthetic hair, human hair is worth big money. India happens to be a leading exporter.

Doron says he was aware of the trade and export of hair collected from temples in South India, but waste hair was a surprise to him.

“These people who collect the hair, they’re living in slums and often belong to low caste or poor migrant Muslim communities,” Doron explains. “They collect the hair over a week or two weeks – usually of women who discarded it when they brush their hair or it’s just hair that has fallen – and then they wash it, they leave it out to dry and then they go to the wholesaler who collects it.”

Doron followed strands to the next point in the supply chain, right to the wholesaler.

“He was in this room where he had these massive scales,” Doron says.

“In the back of the room, there were these gunny bags full of hair. He explained to me that he has different types. Hair that is from people that are older, the follicles are not so good, and it fetches a lower price.

“He weighs it, he gives the collectors cash, and then he bundles it up and sends it on to Delhi. I asked him where, and he gave me a few addresses.”

In Delhi, Doron was told by multiple hair collectors and producers about someone known as ‘the king of hair’. The elusive figure had built a hair export empire that had seen him receive a prize from the then president of India. Doron was warned that it was unlikely he would be able to speak to ‘the king’.

“But someone gave me his number, so I called and spoke in Hindi,” he says. “He probably thought that I was a potential buyer, so he said I’ll have someone pick you up from your guest house in an hour.

“I gave him the address and sure enough, in an hour, a white Mercedes was outside my guest house.”

From there Doron saw what he describes as a big hair factory – a large-scale collection and processing point where waste hair was washed, shampooed, dried, brushed and bundled up to sell.

“It is like gold – very, very precious – and it has a massive export market that reaches various places in Europe and the US.”

Will you wear wigs?

For Doron, learning about the process and supply chain for waste hair was revealing. While he focused on one aspect of it within India and not hair sourced from temples or export in other countries, he says the supply chain was hard to trace.

In other words, it is difficult to be sure whether the hair used in a wig or a hair extension is ethically sourced and the people involved properly compensated and safe.

“It’s a multi, multimillion-dollar industry,” Doron says. “So much hair goes into these wigs, some of these wigs made from Indian women’s hair can fetch thousands of dollars.

“And the paradox is, of course, the hair – the waste – increases in values as it goes into the global supply chain, but all these people who handle it are left behind.

“What about the hair collectors? Do they get injured when they pick up the hair from the sewage? Do they get cuts, injuries, infections?”

Doron adds that even though hair collected from religious ceremonies at temples is a system that is more organised and bureaucratised, there are still ethical concerns. Are the women donating their hair compensated? If so, how would compensation look like, given the religious meanings of the ceremony? Do they even know where their hair ends up?

“Just like many other aspects of the commodity chains that start in the Global South, we have very little idea of the point of origins, the exploitation and extraction that goes on in the process, the pollution discharged in the process, until it gets to the final point, where it ends up as pricy wigs or shiny hair extensions ” Doron says.

Doron’s award-winning book, Waste of a nation: Garbage and growth in India, explores the many forms of waste in India – from discarded hair and shipwrecks to industrial refuse.

More recently, Doron has turned his attention to the hazardous waste generated by medical production, which releases toxic substances and antimicrobial residues into surrounding ecosystems.

While researching his book with co-author Robin Jeffrey, Doron uncovered a troubling development: the discharge of pharmaceutical waste, particularly from antibiotic factories. These effluents, rich in antibiotic residues, can contaminate local water systems and contribute to the rise of superbugs.

Studying waste, whether hair or medical waste, is a way to understand how our economies work, what they rely on, and what our societies value, Doron says.

“It’s a way of studying shadow economies. These are economies that sustain the way we live, that prop up our standards of life.”

“Think of you mobile phone” Doron says, “The average ‘lifespan’ of a mobile is between two to three years. Planned obsolescence play a role, but so does wanting the newest model.”

“It’s reflective of our society that’s constantly needing to upgrade itself,” Doron says.

“If you’re going to a wedding or graduation, you might splurge on a trip to the hairdresser for extensions, an upgrade that lasts a couple of months.

“But this small act relies on a shadow supply chain of hair, and in the process of upgrading, we constantly discard.”