Rethinking Bangladesh’s RMG sustainability beyond the badge

The ready-made garment (RMG) industry is more than numbers on an export chart for Bangladesh. It is the story of millions of women who leave their homes each morning to work in factories that stitch the clothes worn across the world. It is the engine that has powered the country's economic rise and lifted families out of poverty. 

Over the last decade, it has also become a source of pride. Bangladesh, with more LEED-certified buildings than any other country, now leads the world in green garment factories. For an industry that once made global headlines for tragedy, this transformation has become a point of resilience and recognition.

LEED certification, an international standard for environmentally friendly construction, is not easy to obtain, and this makes Bangladesh's achievement all the more remarkable. Certified factories reduce energy and water use, create healthier working spaces, and symbolise a departure from unsafe and polluting practices. 

For many global buyers, the plaques on factory walls signal trust, responsibility and a reason to continue sourcing from Bangladesh. At a time when consumers are demanding more sustainable fashion, this progress has helped the industry remain competitive while giving the country an image of forward-looking modernisation.

Yet, as inspiring as this progress is, we must pause to ask: Does sustainability end at the factory gate? Does a certificate make our industry sustainable?

A green building may sparkle with glass walls and energy-saving lights, but that does not mean the people inside it live any easier. After 12 hours at the sewing machine, many workers return to a single small room shared with their families, where pay packets vanish quickly into rent, rice and school fees. 

These are the hands that keep the industry alive, yet when fever strikes, too many cannot afford a doctor, and when their children ask for books, there is often nothing left to give. 

Sustainability cannot end with machines that save energy or walls that recycle water. It must reach into homes, so that a mother does not lie awake worrying about medicine, and a young woman can dream beyond the factory floor. Until workers' voices are part of the conversation — not just in glossy reports but in lived reality — the promise of sustainability will remain incomplete.

Beyond the lives of workers, there is also the question of the environment that sustains us all. The RMG sector consumes vast amounts of water and chemicals. While certified factories reduce resource use, the broader industry still leaves a heavy mark on our rivers and soil. 

Communities living near industrial belts often speak of polluted water that can no longer be used for fishing, farming, or drinking. Many families in villages, once dependent on nearby canals, now suffer from skin diseases and the loss of traditional livelihoods. 

These are the hidden costs of growth, and they rarely appear in sustainability reports. Unless waste treatment, water management and circular economy practices are embraced across the board, the burden of production will continue to fall on those least able to bear it.

There is also the larger challenge of energy. Bangladesh is among the countries most vulnerable to climate change, yet the garment industry still relies heavily on fossil fuels. A few factories are experimenting with rooftop solar panels or exploring alternatives such as biomass, but these remain exceptions rather than the rule.

If we imagine the future of industry not five years ahead but twenty, sustainability must mean resilience — an industry that can withstand the shocks of climate change and shifting global trade rules. Reducing carbon intensity is no longer just about impressing buyers; it is about survival in a world where climate resilience will determine which economies thrive and which fall behind.

At the same time, we must remember that global brands and consumers play a powerful role in shaping the choices available to Bangladeshi factories. Many buyers applaud Bangladesh's green factories, but their purchasing practices tell another story: prices remain squeezed, deadlines remain short and pressure to produce more for less has not gone away. 

Factory owners often face an impossible equation — investing in workers and the environment while absorbing relentless cost-cutting from international retailers. If sustainability is to mean anything real, it must be a shared responsibility, stretching from the factory floor to the shop floor in London, New York, or Tokyo. 

The responsibility of brands is not proven in glossy sustainability reports but in everyday choices — whether they pay fair prices, give factories the breathing space to treat workers well, and stand by their suppliers in the long run instead of chasing the cheapest deal.

The government, too, has a decisive role to play. It has encouraged green factories through tax incentives and promotional campaigns, but the vision must now go further. Regulations protecting workers' rights and the environment should not apply only to a few large, high-profile factories. 

Small and medium-sized enterprises, which make up a large share of the sector, must also be supported with finance, training, and technology so that sustainability becomes an industry-wide baseline rather than an elite achievement. For many smaller factories, certification remains financially out of reach. 

But that does not mean they cannot be made safer, cleaner, and fairer places to work — if the right policy framework is in place.

There is also the question of where the industry is heading. Bangladesh's economy leans so heavily on garments that a sudden fall in orders, a shift to automation, or a new trade rule abroad can ripple through millions of homes almost overnight. Sustainability beyond LEED must therefore also mean resilience — preparing workers and families for a less fragile future. 

That means teaching new skills so the young woman stitching shirts today might move into better work tomorrow, and building industries beyond garments so households are not tied to a single, uncertain lifeline. True sustainability is not only greener factories or fairer wages, but also the security of knowing that if one door closes, another can open, and that futures can be built with dignity, not fear.

The story of sustainability in Bangladesh's garment industry is not really about plaques on the wall. Those are nice to look at, but they do not tell us if life has changed for the people inside. The real test is simple: can a worker send her child to school, can a father buy medicine when his son has a fever, can families breathe clean air and drink safe water near the factories?

That is what sustainability should mean. Bangladesh has shown the world that change is possible. We rose from the tragedy of Rana Plaza to building the greenest factories on earth. But this cannot be the end of the story. The next chapter must be written on fair wages, clean rivers, and safe homes. Otherwise, sustainability will remain a label, not a life.

Zubayer Hossen is the Programme Director at SANEM. Email: zubayerhossen14@gmail.com 

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views and opinions of The Business Standard.