We don't need to dig new holes because it's all around us, misrecognized as waste
Scattered across landfills and forgotten drawers, the rare earth elements that power modern civilization — from fighter jets to smartphones — have been quietly accumulating as waste while the United States grows ever more dependent on China for fresh supply. Experts now suggest the more prudent path is not to dig new mines but to recover what has already been discarded, transforming a supply chain vulnerability into a materials renaissance. Companies like Apple and MP Materials are beginning to prove that closed-loop recycling is not merely idealism — it is an emerging industrial logic.
- America's reliance on China for rare earths has become a strategic liability, with defense systems, consumer electronics, and clean energy infrastructure all hanging in the balance.
- Less than 1% of rare earths are currently recycled, meaning generations of valuable material lie dormant in e-waste, retired aircraft, and decommissioned ships — misrecognized as garbage.
- Recycling these elements is technically demanding and economically viable only at scale, creating a chicken-and-egg problem that has long stalled meaningful progress.
- Apple's $500 million commitment and its partnership with MP Materials — including a disassembly robot named Daisy and a Texas magnet factory — represent the first serious industrial attempt to close the loop.
- If this model scales, the U.S. could secure its critical materials supply from within, turning accumulated waste into a strategic resource rather than a geopolitical dependency.
The United States faces a quiet but consequential crisis: the rare earth elements essential to F-35 jets, smartphones, wind turbines, and electric vehicles are overwhelmingly sourced from China, leaving American defense and manufacturing exposed. Yet experts argue the solution may not require new mines — it may require looking more carefully at what has already been thrown away.
Despite their name, rare earths are not geologically scarce. What makes them difficult is finding concentrations worth extracting. A single F-35 contains roughly a hundred pounds of these materials, and they appear throughout modern technology in roles ranging from super-strong magnets to fiber optic amplification. Still, less than 1% of consumed rare earths are ever recycled, according to University of Wisconsin–Madison professor Julie Klinger — meaning decades of valuable material sits buried in obsolete electronics and industrial waste. Klinger sees recycling's core advantage as certainty: unlike mining, which introduces environmental unknowns, recovered material comes with a known composition and predictable processing needs.
The economics, however, demand scale. MP Materials CEO James Litinsky notes that recycling only becomes viable when paired with significant processing infrastructure nearby. That's where Apple's recent $500 million commitment becomes significant. The company has partnered with MP Materials to build a recycling pipeline: end-of-life magnets will be processed at Mountain Pass, California, converted into oxides, shipped to a Texas factory, and remade into magnets for future Apple products. Apple's robot Daisy, which disassembles iPhones to recover materials conventional recycling misses, feeds directly into this cycle.
This closed-loop model points toward something more than corporate efficiency — it suggests a fundamental rethinking of how economies relate to resources. The rare earths are already here, embedded in the waste stream. The open question is whether the infrastructure to reclaim them can be built before the geopolitical cost of inaction grows too high.
The United States has a rare earth problem, and the solution may be sitting in landfills and junk drawers across the country. Rare earths—a group of 17 metallic elements that power everything from smartphones to F-35 fighter jets—have become essential to modern life, yet America remains dependent on China for most of its supply. But experts now argue that the path forward doesn't require opening new mines or deepening geopolitical entanglement. It requires looking at what has already been thrown away.
These elements are not actually rare in nature, despite their name. What makes them scarce is finding deposits concentrated enough to justify the cost and environmental burden of extraction. A single F-35 contains roughly a hundred pounds of rare earths woven throughout its systems. Smartphones, laptops, wind turbines, electric vehicles—all rely on the unique properties of these materials to create super-strong magnets, amplify fiber optics and lasers, and accelerate chemical reactions. Yet according to Julie Klinger, a professor at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, less than 1 percent of the rare earths consumed globally are recycled. That means decades of accumulated valuable material has been discarded in obsolete electronics, retired aircraft, decommissioned ships, and mining waste sites.
The concept of recycling rare earths is simple. The execution is not. Devices typically contain only trace amounts of these elements, which means processing enormous volumes of material to recover meaningful quantities. The technical complexity of extraction adds another layer of difficulty. Still, Klinger argues that recycling carries a fundamental advantage over mining: certainty. "You know what's in there," she said. "You know exactly what to expect. And therefore, you also know exactly what environmental protections you need to put in place." Mining, by contrast, introduces unknowns—environmental damage, water contamination, the disruption of entire landscapes.
The economics of scaling recycling operations present the real challenge. James Litinsky, CEO of MP Materials, which operates the only active rare earth mine in the United States at Mountain Pass, California, frames it plainly: recycling only becomes viable at large scale and requires proximity to significant processing infrastructure. That's where partnerships begin to matter. Apple has committed $500 million to use American-made rare earth magnets, partnering with MP Materials to build a recycling system at their Mountain Pass refinery. The plan is straightforward: MP Materials will recycle end-of-life magnet materials into separated oxides, ship those oxides to a factory in Texas, and manufacture magnets for Apple's future products. Apple has also developed a robot called Daisy that disassembles iPhones to recover materials that conventional recycling misses, feeding those recovered rare earths back into the production cycle.
This approach—taking materials from discarded products and turning them into components for new ones—represents what industry leaders call a closed-loop supply chain. For Klinger, it signals something larger: a potential shift in how the economy thinks about resources. "I think that we don't need to dig new holes in the ground to get the material that we need because it's all around us, currently misrecognized as waste," she said. If recycling infrastructure can be scaled successfully, the United States could strengthen its supply chain security, reduce dependence on foreign sources, and fundamentally transform how critical materials enter the modern economy. The rare earths are already here. The question is whether the country will build the systems to use them.
Notable Quotes
Less than 1% of the rare earths that we consume are recycled. That means we've been accumulating rare earths in our waste for decades.— Julie Klinger, University of Wisconsin–Madison
Recycling only works at large scale and requires proximity to significant infrastructure.— James Litinsky, CEO of MP Materials
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does China dominate rare earth production if these elements aren't actually scarce?
It's not about scarcity in nature—it's about concentration and economics. China invested heavily in building the industry decades ago and cornered the market. They have the mines, the processing infrastructure, the expertise. The U.S. has one active mine. It's not geology; it's industrial infrastructure and will.
So recycling is cheaper than mining?
Not necessarily cheaper upfront. But it's cheaper at scale, and it avoids the environmental cost of opening new mines. You're also not dependent on finding new deposits or negotiating with other countries. The material is already here.
Why has recycling stayed below 1 percent if it's so advantageous?
Because it's technically difficult and economically uncompetitive when mining is cheap and China controls supply. You need to disassemble products, separate tiny amounts of rare earths from other materials, process them. It requires investment in infrastructure that didn't exist. Companies like Apple are building that infrastructure now, but it took pressure on supply chains to make it worth doing.
What does a closed-loop supply chain actually mean?
It means a product reaches the end of its life, gets disassembled, the rare earths are extracted and processed, and those same materials go into making the next generation of products. No waste, no new mining. In theory, you could run the same rare earths through the system indefinitely.
Is this realistic at a national scale?
That's the open question. It works for companies like Apple with massive scale and resources. But scaling it across the entire economy—consumer electronics, defense, manufacturing—requires investment in recycling facilities, processing plants, and logistics networks. It's possible, but it's not automatic.