Why Nearly Every Apple Has a Sticker—and What That Tiny Label Actually Does

The little stickers on loose fruits and vegetables can seem like an inconsequential part of daily grocery shopping. For some, peeling them off—and dealing with the sticky residue—is a mild nuisance that most people don't think about further. Today, these stickers are an indispensable part of the global food supply chain. How did they become such a crucial part of the food system, and what environmental impact do they have?

The History of Fruit Labels

According to the National Apple Museum in Biglerville, Pennsylvania, produce labels have been around since the late 1800s, and coincided with the rise of the American railroad system, which helped transport fruits and vegetables throughout the country. Many fruit producers used metal stencils to label and market their fruit on crates and barrels. "The goals of the stenciling was not only to identify the source of the produce, but more importantly to get their brand before consumers and to make their produce more attractive than that of the competition," the museum states on their website. 

It wasn't until 1929, however, that fruit stickers were reportedly first used. Fyffes, an Irish multinational giant best known for distributing bananas, claims it was the first company to stick a label on its produce, while a 2009 obituary in the trade magazine Produce Processing credits Tom Mathison as the first to put stickers of his company's ladybug logo on apples. In 1982, Mathison began placing individual stickers on apples as a marketing tool for his Washington-based fruit growing and packing company, Stemlit Growers.

"For Tom, adding his logo with the signature ladybug was all about brand identification," Brianna Shales, Stemlit Growers' marketing director, tells me. "He wanted people to know where their fruit came from and how it was grown." Mathison was ahead of the curve; according to Carolyn Dimitri, a food studies professor at New York University, it wasn't until the next decade in the 1990s that produce stickers became increasingly common.

What the Stickers—or PLU Codes—Actually Mean

Produce stickers were originally much like other early fruit labels: primarily for use on branding and marketing. They often displayed a grower's logo or the name of the fruit variety. The purpose of these stickers quickly shifted, though, when supermarkets began using PLU, or "price look-up" codes, on the stickers to streamline checkout and inventory control. Today, the tiny fruit labels are commonly referred to as PLU stickers, and they offer a fascinating look into the modern agricultural and retail supply chain. 

Although PLU codes have been in use since the 1990s, they were not standardized until 2001, when a coalition of global produce associations formed International Federation for Produce Standards (IFPS) to create a universal coding system that remains in use today. That means that any given PLU code, such as 4428 for a Japanese persimmon, is the same everywhere in the world. Generally, conventional produce codes have four digits and start with a "3" or "4," while organic produce codes have five digits and begin with a "9." A code longer than five digits likely falls outside the international standardized system and belongs to a retailer's internal coding system.

Adoption of the standardized codes, however, is voluntary and not legally required. Dimitri notes that some retailers maintain their own internal PLU systems instead of using the international standard. While there are incentives to adopt standardized codes, especially for supply-chain consistency, doing so can incur costs associated with investment in software, databases, and point-of-sale integration, leading some stores to stick with internal systems for categorization and pricing. 

Benjamin Lorr, author of The Secret Life of Groceries, explains that the rise of PLU stickers is relatively straightforward. "Go back 50 years, to simpler times, with customers making simpler choices: An apple isn't going to be confused with a banana. So if that's the level your customers are differentiating their produce, there is no need for a sticker at check-out," he says. "But in today's world, where organic, fair trade, and/or heirloom varieties are sold and distributed, it's especially helpful to have PLU codes to help retailers track them."

Duncan Jones, senior marketing manager of the label company Sinclair International Limited, agrees. Beyond the logistical functions, he says, PLU stickers "give each piece of fruit an identity—without needing extra packaging."

Though PLU stickers can be helpful for customers, they primarily serve others in the supply chain—logistics companies, grocery stores, and store employees—by enabling quick identification during restocking or at checkout. Unless you're a produce expert, distinguishing between a conventional Empire apple and an organic Cosmic Crisp can be tricky. When produce is misidentified at the register, customers may be charged the wrong price, which, according to Lorr, can result in margin swings of up to 20% for retailers.

Produce stickers can also play a role during outbreaks of food-borne illness. They can be helpful in identifying and removing potentially contaminated produce from stores during recalls, and they help consumers determine whether they've purchased the affected fruit or vegetables. Earlier this year, for example, California-grown peaches from Moonlight Companies were recalled for possible listeria contamination. Consumers were told to check for both the Moonlight branding and specific PLU codes—4401 and 4044—printed on the stickers. Having that information made it easier for shoppers to identify whether the peaches they had purchased may have been part of the recall.

The Environmental Considerations of PLU Stickers

While produce stickers may seem harmless, most are still primarily made from plastic and other non-biodegradable materials, and their small size doesn't necessarily absolve their environmental impact. Plastic remains the preferred material because it can withstand washing, fumigation, transportation, and handling. Because these stickers aren't compostable, they persist in landfills and compost piles—often after being forgotten on discarded produce. In compost, they can break down into microplastics, posing a risk to organic farms that rely on compost instead of synthetic fertilizers, since plastic contamination can render compost unusable.

While it's possible to prevent fruit stickers from contaminating a home compost pile, keeping them out of industrial-scale composting operations is far more difficult. Their small size allows them to slip through screens and other systems designed to filter out non-biodegradable materials. 

Olga Kachook, the Director of the Sustainable Packaging Coalition, has suggested that produce stickers may beon track to become the "next straw": Straws became the poster child for single-use plastic pollution, likely because they're unnecessary for most consumers, impossible to recycle, and commonly littered. "Interestingly," she writes on the organization's site, "many of these characteristics apply to produce stickers."

There's a legitimate question about whether produce stickers, even non-compostable plastic ones, still represent a net environmental benefit. If a small sticker allows consumers to buy loose produce instead of in more heavy plastic packaging, is that a step in the right direction or not? 

Another pro-sticker argument is that selling loose produce may reduce food waste by allowing people to purchase smaller quantities of food—amounts they are more likely to consume—rather than prepackaged bulk portions that may end up discarded. Research conducted in 2022 by the nonprofit organization Waste and Resources Action Progamme (WRAP) supports this view, finding that some plastic packaging increases food waste by forcing consumers to buy more than they need. 

Data on how many stickers end up in landfills or composting facilities is patchy. A 2024 study published in the journal Environmental Science & Technology estimated that bananas imported to the European Union— about 5.8 million tons in 2021—likely generate more than 190 tons of plastic per year from stickers alone. While that figure represents a significant amount of plastic, it may still be far less than the plastic waste bananas would generate if each bunch was wrapped in plastic instead. Without more comprehensive data, it's hard to know how to assess relative harm.

One thing that is clear: Produce stickers are here to stay. The real question is how long the industry will continue using them in their current form as single-use plastics. Still, Lorr is optimistic that produce stickers will evolve into something more environmentally friendly. "I bet there will be a new type of stamped, washable, maybe burnt, barcode pioneered one day,” he says. He may be right: Though most produce still relies on single-use stickers today, the EU’s new waste regulations require “sticky labels affixed to fruit and vegetables” to be compatible with industrial composting standards by February 2028.  

In Sweden, for example, the supermarket chain ICA has used laser-coded markings on produce such as avocados and sweet potatoes since 2016, while British retailer Marks & Spencer (M&S) has offered coconuts with laser etchings instead of stickers since 2014. The catch: Laser codes currently work only on produce with thick, durable skins. A trial by M&S found that the skin of citrus fruit was too soft and porous for laser marking, causing the fruit to deteriorate faster. If the technology improves, laser etching could offer a viable alternative to PLU stickers.

In the meantime, compostable stickers—which still contain plasticizers, just less—are gaining traction. Sinclair International Limited launched their new T55 compostable label, and, in partnership with Zespri Kiwifruit, has already begun using it in the European market. Hamburg-based Dole Europe GmbH is also using Sinclair's compostable stickers on their bananas sold in Northern Europe. 

These stickers are designed to break down, whether in home or in industrial composting. According to Jones, this launch has “reinforced them (stickers) as an environmentally conscious packaging solution.” He explains that Sinclair plans to switch to 100% compostable labels in the future, but exactly when is hard to predict. Factors like uncertain geopolitical and economic climates globally, rising business costs due to material or supply chain costs, and unclear and differing regulations in different states or markets are some of the challenges they are facing. Stemilt's Shales also believes that there is still work to be done to scale compostable sticker production for a global supply chain like produce. A global effort to have one set of guidelines to follow when it comes to a complex topic like compostability is needed. “This will make it more efficient and effective for brands like Stemilt, that ship to multiple countries, to bring compostable stickers to market with our fruit,” she says. 

Given that produce stickers rank low on the list of priorities for global environmental campaigns, reducing or eliminating plastic stickers in the US may take some time. Still, there is some movement toward more sustainable alternatives, such as compostable stickers. Following France's actions, the USDA has begun researching these options in anticipation of potential future restrictions on US exports to the EU. That may be the strongest driver for change: Without sustained public pressure or regulations, adoption will likely depend on individual producers choosing to make the switch.

With so much of the global food system relying on these PLU stickers, it's hard to envision a world without them. While they may reduce the need for larger forms of packaging, their environmental impact remains a concern. As consumers, we can take extra care to dispose of stickers properly, or better yet, shop locally at farmers markets where produce is often sold without stickers. It's not a complete solution, but it's a first step in the better direction.