Renewable rubbish

Unless Pikitup is on strike, rubbish doesn't really feature high on anyone's list of priorities. The general approach to waste is reflected in the term “taking out the trash” - we dump it, get rid of it, make it someone (or something) else's problem. Out of sight, out of mind, as it were.

But the sheer size of the growing pile is starting to encroach on people's bubble of oblivion. It's no secret the global population has long surpassed the earth's ability to provide, and unlimited waste generation is simply not an option. Nine billion people are set to occupy the planet by 2050, a staggering number when one considers the average American produces around 2kg of refuse every day (before getting too smug, South Africans generate a similar amount - 0.5kg to 2kgs).

Perhaps the most striking feature of all this waste is that much of it doesn't have to be there. A big chunk consists of packaging - plastic, paper, glass and cans - that could've been recycled. By recycling just 125 cold drink cans, enough energy is saved to power one home for a day. Between that and the organic matter that's ideal for composting, the waste situation could easily be transformed from mountain to molehill.

If the material junk generated wasn't enough, there's the fact that almost a third of the world's food is lost or wasted each year, according to a recent report by the UN. This 1.3 billion tonnes of waste, seen against the kinds of poverty we witness daily, is enough to make you lose your lunch.

It happens in small ways, of course: forgotten leftovers in Tupperware containers, half-eaten restaurant meals, a supermarket fridge that's just one degree too warm, all those misshapen bananas and butternuts no one wants because they look funny.

Our economic systems perpetuate the problem: We grow more food than we need, spray it with chemicals, package it in layers we don't plan to recycle, ship it off across the world, and chuck it out after it's spent a few days withering on a shelf. In this way, well-to-do shoppers in rich countries manage to waste almost as much as the entire net food production of sub-Saharan Africa in a year.

Given the levels of progress made in other fields, it's startling to think we haven't come up with a better widespread solution for waste management than “throw it on a dump”.

A combination of greater awareness (one of the few positive outcomes of disasters like the BP oil spill) and tighter legislation is slowly turning the tide, however. Edgy, engaging documentaries like The Story of Stuff and Waste Land have also helped cast light on the toll rampant consumerism is taking.

“We haven't come up with a better widespread solution for waste management than 'throw it on a dump'.”

Lezette Engelbrecht, online features editor, ITWeb

One of the major reasons it's so easy to toss things out is because the effects of waste are typically not factored into the cost of goods. If the producer carried the real cost of the waste created throughout a product's life cycle (by integrating it into the market price) it would quickly lead to waste reduction strategies to lower costs.

This concept, known as extended producer responsibility, has been adopted in various European and Asian countries, as well as Australia and Brazil, but it's far from the norm.

In SA, the City of Cape Town recently implemented the Integrated Waste Management bylaw, which has upped the ante for businesses, which now have to assume greater responsibility for the generation, minimisation, collection and disposal of waste.

As market and regulatory forces exert greater pressure, there will hopefully be a more concerted effort from industry to recycle - both as part of production and once their product gives up the ghost.

While some of SA's big retailers have installed recycling bins for various household goods, for the average South African, getting rid of trash sustainably remains a chore. Recycling often requires driving to different drop-off points for cans, glass and plastic, and there are few free services that cater to a wide range of neighbourhoods.

One colleague tells of how she left old electronic goods on the sidewalk for people to scavenge, because there are no easily accessible e-waste facilities. This from someone who recycles her household waste, has a compost heap, and drips instead of tumble dries. If there was an e-waste recycler nearby, she would have found it.

So, as rubbish edges its way into public consciousness, new techniques are emerging to harness the remaining value of rejected goods. From the inventive way street vendors use discarded wire, bags and metal to create art works, to Finland's forward-thinking approach when it comes to soggy tissue, there is a growing crop of brilliant, rubbish ideas.

A Finnish subsidiary of major tissue producer Metsa, for example, is looking at using paper industry by-products like the fibre sludge and ash generated in cleaning recycled paper. It plans to replace natural resources with the fibrous goo in noise barriers, embankments, running and ski tracks, and even foundations for sports grounds.

It may sound like the remnants of a bowl of bran flakes, but fibre sludge is lighter than stone materials, acts as a good insulator, and is easy to shape into pretty much anything (as any paper mach'e fan can attest to).

Other projects use waste in more active ways. The city of Johannesburg recently commissioned the first of five landfill gas-to-energy projects, a neat way of solving two problems in one go.

The project, which is funded under the Clean Development Mechanism programme, will use the waste from five landfill sites across the city to generate an estimated 19MW of renewable energy.

This equates to the electricity used by about 12 500 households, and the plan is to feed the extra capacity into the grid.

While these developments are encouraging, they're a drop in the ocean when one considers the rate at which consumer products are being churned out. With so many of the world's bright minds working frantically on the next hot gadget, which will be replaced in around 2.5 seconds, it's about time more innovative thinking be channelled into how to dispose of these one-minute wonders. Of all the things to waste, after all, a mind is certainly the most terrible.