The average American household runs nearly 300 loads of laundry per year, according to the U.S. Department of Energy. But here’s the kicker: each load can cost anywhere from $0.17 to $1.25 in electricity and water combined, depending on the machine and settings. Across the country, that adds up to billions in utility spending, not to mention the environmental footprint of all that washing and drying.
Now, a new wave of attention is hitting an old chore: laundry. Manufacturers like Whirlpool, Samsung, and LG are not just selling machines anymore—they’re betting that changing consumer habits inside the laundry room could be just as impactful as selling an upgraded appliance. The controversy? While companies tout energy-efficient models and “eco cycles,” some energy advocates argue that these claims are often overstated. And consumers are left wondering: which laundry habits actually save money, and how much of corporate messaging around efficiency is marketing spin?The Data
Let’s start with the numbers. Because when it comes to household energy costs, laundry is deceptively heavy-hitting.
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According to the U.S. Department of Energy, washing clothes in hot water uses nearly 90% of the energy consumed by a washing machine—mostly for heating the water. Switching to cold water washes can save households up to $200 annually.
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A 2023 International Energy Agency report revealed that residential laundry accounts for nearly 8% of global residential electricity use. That’s higher than most people expect for a chore that feels minor compared to heating or cooling.
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Whirlpool, in its 2024 sustainability report, claimed its High-Efficiency (HE) washers can cut water use by up to 50% compared to top-loaders from 20 years ago. But, as one industry analyst gently noted, “That’s true against old tech, but today’s baseline machines are already efficient—it’s a moving target.”
Here’s the thing: while appliance makers love to showcase lab-tested numbers, real consumer behavior is messy. Families overload machines, ignore “eco” cycles, or stick to hot cycles out of habit. In fact, an NRDC study found that fewer than 40% of Americans regularly use their washer’s energy-saving features. Which means the gap between potential savings and real-world savings is wide.
The People
If corporate data feels too sanitized, what do insiders and experts say?
“Consumers are way more influential than manufacturers admit,” says Dr. Alice Martinez, an energy efficiency researcher at Stanford University. “Companies can build the most efficient washer on paper, but if people keep using hot cycles for everything and run half-loads daily, those efficiency gains practically evaporate.”
A former Whirlpool executive—who asked Forbes not to use his name—was even blunter: “Eco cycles look great in brochures, but they take longer and, frankly, most people don’t have the patience. We knew that. Marketing told us to push the feature anyway.”
On the flip side, consumer behavior is shifting. TikTok influencers and eco-lifestyle bloggers are pushing “laundry hacks”—from using cold water almost exclusively to air-drying half a load inside during summers to reduce dryer runs. Whirlpool itself has funded research suggesting younger consumers (18-34) are twice as likely as older adults to experiment with low-energy laundry habits.
Still, let’s not forget: energy-efficient habits usually aren’t as glamorous as the machines that promise them. Consumers tend to respond to cool tech—smartphone notifications that tell you when laundry is done—more than to plain cold-cycle advice. And Whirlpool, LG, and Samsung know it.
The Fallout
So, what’s at stake if people actually start changing their laundry habits en masse? Quite a lot.
For consumers, the financial consequences look straightforward. A family of four in the U.S. could shave $150 to $300 a year from utility bills by adopting three simple habits consistently:
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Using cold water for most loads
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Avoiding the dryer when possible
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Consolidating smaller loads into full ones
But scale that up across 128 million U.S. households, and you’re looking at a collective savings north of $15 billion annually. And with energy prices trending up—U.S. residential electricity costs rose 6% in 2023 alone, per the EIA—that number will only rise.
For companies, though, the fallout is more complicated. If smarter habits reduce wear-and-tear, appliance replacement cycles may lengthen. At the same time, firms like Whirlpool can reposition themselves not just as appliance sellers but as partners in sustainable living. Whirlpool’s 2025 earnings call highlighted this exact pivot: “Growth isn’t just in units sold,” its CEO Marc Bitzer said. “It’s in helping customers live sustainably, and monetizing that support through new services.”
Analysts are skeptical. “Let’s be honest,” one told me, “appliance makers still need to sell boxes. Services are gravy, not the main dish.” This smells like a strategy where companies want credit for encouraging new habits while still leaning on older product-driven profit models.
There’s also a regulatory undertone here. Energy efficiency mandates are tightening worldwide. In the EU, new rules require appliances sold beyond 2025 to meet minimum smart-meter compatibility standards. In the U.S., the Biden administration has proposed stricter washer and dryer standards projected to save consumers $3.5 billion annually. Whirlpool and its rivals are lobbying hard—not just about appliance design, but about shaping consumer behaviors policymakers should encourage.
Changing Habits, Changing Market
So, if laundry habits matter more than the shiny new tech, where does that leave both consumers and players like Whirlpool?
Here’s the messy truth: habits are hard to change. Despite all the campaigns, 70% of American households still use warm or hot water for the majority of their washes. Cultural norms around laundry (cleanliness equates to heat) are stubborn. Whirlpool knows this, which is why their latest ad campaigns don’t say “always use cold water.” Instead, they highlight proprietary cycles like “Adaptive Wash” or “Quick Refresh”—features packaged as innovation, but essentially nudging consumers closer to energy-saving behavior without calling it boring.
There’s also the class divide. Energy-efficient habits sometimes look like luxuries. Air-drying takes space—not everyone in dense urban housing has a balcony or backyard. Running full loads requires extra clothing stock; low-income households may not have that flexibility. Time is a cost too—eco cycles are longer, and working parents may not have hours to spare. So telling families to “just change your habits” glosses over those real-world constraints.
The irony? Whirlpool makes premium, high-margin dryers that directly conflict with the advice to line-dry more often. But as one insider quipped, “That’s capitalism—you can market two contradictory behaviors at once.”
The Future of Laundry
Here’s where the prediction game gets interesting. Analysts at McKinsey suggest “appliance behavior shaping”—think apps nudging you to run laundry at off-peak hours or gamifying cold-cycle use—will become a multi-billion-dollar niche in the next decade. Whirlpool has already piloted “Laundry Scorecards” in certain smart-app integrations, ranking users on efficiency and offering tiny utility rebates through utility partnerships.
But if this sticks, the bigger fallout might not be corporate revenue. It could be grid stability. Imagine 20 million households nationwide shifting dryer time away from the evening peak. That’s a meaningful shift for utilities managing surges. Some reports from California already show demand-response programs tied to laundry appliances shaving hundreds of megawatts off evening peaks.
So, laundry habits are no longer just a quirky eco-friendly tip—they could be a piece of the energy-transition puzzle.
Closing Thought
The laundry room may seem like a small battlefield in the larger war on climate change and rising household costs, but it’s a symbolic one: everyday habits becoming infrastructure solutions. As Whirlpool and its rivals push consumers toward more sustainable laundry practices—packaging them as innovations, not sacrifices—the question becomes less about whether the technology exists. It does. The real question is: will consumers shift fast enough to matter, or will corporate marketing simply spin a story of efficiency while old habits run the show?