W.L. Rathje

By W.L. Rathje

Talking trash is riddled with boring truisms. That's acceptable. What bothers me is that the truism I hear most often - "Out of sight, out of mind" - isn't even true! In fact, I believe that giving it any credence obstructs the path to efficient and effective solid waste management.

What brought this burr under my saddle to my attention most recently is a stunning picture book titled Litter Only: A Book about Dustbins by Alexandra Martini ( Konemann Verlagsgesellschaft , 2000). The book is a treasure trove of photographs of garbage receptacles (mostly in public places) worldwide - 261-plus containers in 249 locales in 130 countries. Martini's globetrotting garbage-can panorama extends from Hardangervidda, Norway, to Ujung Pandang, Indonesia, and beyond.

The introduction asserts, "Content is not everything - look at the container, look how universal the role of the trash can is. . . ." And that is exactly why I bristle when someone says about garbage, "Out of sight, out of mind," because garbage and garbage containers are almost always in sight.

Think about the garbage realities of contemporary life. I'll bet good money that there's a garbage container in most rooms of your house. There are garbage containers in most public spaces and rooms. How often are you more than 30 ft. from a garbage receptacle? On an interstate, sure, but garbage containers are more frequent and available than gas for your car or food for you!

As an archaeologist, I am very aware of "living" reconstructions of the past, where tourists walk through "accurate" replicas of life in previous times. Take Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia, a "living museum" frequented by presidents with potentates and the public alike. Note that the "authentically reconstructed" early American site is honeycombed with trash containers. And as part of this scenario, the living museum is constantly crisscrossed by vehicles that collect the day's trash for disposal.

The site's original inhabitants would be totally mystified by such behavior. They were accustomed to throwing garbage in the street - in fact, the role of men walking on the street side of women was not started to protect women from being splashed by passing vehicles; instead, the man walked on the outside to take the brunt of the garbage thrown toward the street from second-floor windows. Quite honestly, if Williamsburg were an accurate reconstruction of colonial times, it would be closed down within a day for health and safety violations!

Put all this together, and you reach the inescapable conclusion that we should not be saying, "Out of sight, out of mind," but instead, "In sight, out of mind" regarding garbage. What does this mean? It means that people ignore garbage because it is so commonplace - it is in sight everywhere.

In effect, the biggest problem in "garbage education" is that even though garbage is everywhere, most people don't see it. That is, of course, quite different from "Out of sight, out of mind." In fact, what it means is that there is no way to easily put garbage on people's radar screens.

A good example is what people think is in landfills. Ask most folks - educators, students (all ages), environmentalists, businessmen, government officials . . . anyone - what takes up the most landfill space, and the most common response will be Styrofoam, fast-food packaging, and disposable diapers. The Garbage Project's 21 landfill digs demonstrate that if you add all three of those landfill villains together, they fill up less than 3% of MSW landfill space.

Why are the estimates so wrong? Simple. Those who don't deal with refuse for their livelihood don't carefully notice and mentally record the garbage they or other people discard. What forms their mental image of garbage is not what is normally thrown away. Instead, what sticks in their minds about garbage is the out-of-place "litter" that shocks them - most often Styrofoam, fast-food packaging, and disposable diapers.

The way people perceive garbage is also the reason why newspapers get recycled but household foodwaste hasn't diminished in 30 years. Newspapers are often kept in stacks, so it is easy to see how quickly they build up. Foodwaste is not saved in a corner of the kitchen, so the food preparer and the food consumers are not constantly confronted with the quantities they waste.

The incredible degree to which people can overlook foodwaste is best illustrated by a study the Garbage Project conducted for the United States Department of Agriculture. We divided sample houses - all households were asked for permission before we collected and sorted their garbage - into four groups. In the middle of a five-week garbage collection/recording period, householders in three groups were asked to report their edible food discards verbally. Not surprisingly, very few respondents owned up to any foodwaste; nonetheless, their refuse contained, on average, one-eighth of a pound of wasted food (not including rinds, peels, skins, bones, and so on) per person per day. The fourth group of households was given plastic bags and asked to save all the edible food they would have thrown away. They gave us a quarter pound of wasted food per person per day!

When there was a knock on the door, I can hear John saying to Martha, "Yikes! It's those crazy university students who want foodwaste. Throw some food into that bag!" The kicker, of course, was that we still found one-eighth of a pound of wasted food per person per day in their garbage. They made up foodwaste for us to collect at the front door and still didn't see or decrease the food they threw out in the back.

But lest I forget the lesson that people don't see the garbage they discard, I have one constant reminder. About once a month or more, some agent of the media takes me to a landfill to record me in photographs or video. I could get really tired of this except for one wonderful event that almost always happens. There I am with the photographer, surrounded by garbage at least 20 ft. deep. At some point he has to change the film roll or video cartridge. He rips open the film pack, holds the foil or box for a minute, and then stares at me with a quizzical look and says, "Is there anywhere around here I can throw this?"

At that point - still in shock - I quietly say, "Just drop it. It'll be OK."

In sight, out of mind.

Contributing Editor W.L. Rathje is founder and director of the Garbage Project.

MSW - July/August 2003