W.L. Rathje

By W.L. Rathje

For a decade and a half, when someone asked me what I did for a living, I changed the subject because most people couldn't understand why any sane person would systematically sort through garbage and write it all down item by item. All I got were stares and then an embarrassed silence.

African Americans and other minorities have long complained about the inhuman consequences of racism. Over the last two decades, women have focused increasingly on the degrading aspects of sexism. Even though our discrimination is of a lower order, I believe that those of us who deal with garbage every workday should cry foul because of "garbage-ism"—the intensity with which virtually everyone ignores garbage people and the jobs we do.

In my July/August 2003 column, I claimed that for the vast majority of Americans, garbage is "in sight, out of mind." This column is the second installment on the same topic. You and I are totally in sight, out of mind.

My hat is off to Merle Ukeles, who has long been the "artist in residence" at the New York Sanitation Department and who well over a decade ago decided to shake the hand of every NYC Sanitation Department worker. Many who got the handshake looked mystified—Merle usually was driving a van with huge mirrors on both sides—but she definitely was doing a good thing.

I respect Tom Price for the same reason. Decades earlier, when Tom became director of the Tucson, AZ, Sanitation Division, he turned a dispirited work force into the pride of the city by showing films on the ways flies spawn and spread disease. Then he'd say, "Everyone respects policemen and firemen because their job is so vital, but that job is only critical to individual members of the community once in a long while. On the other hand, you provide a service that is critical to people's well-being every single day." The people who suffered through Chicago, IL's recent garbage strike can reaffirm how right Tom was!

To try to keep this diatribe focused, I will center on two areas: (1) science fiction films—the vision of our future, which Hollywood's intelligentsia believe will sell—and (2) the way archaeologists—most of whom spend their lives digging up old garbage, recording it in excruciating detail, then publishing it and putting the actual garbage on display—view the future of archaeology.

Garbage is not prominent in sci-fi films. The central city in Blade Runner is dark and dirty and an exception: There is some garbage visible. The other honest-to-goodness garbage I recall in a sci-fi film nestles in the amazing sequence in the original Star Wars film where Luke Skywalker falls down a chute into a garbage bin and is almost overcome by a humongous garbage-thriving organism.

There are, of course, more such examples, but the most common characteristics of cities of the future are their sterility and utmost cleanliness, a lot like suburban streets in TV sitcoms, dramas, and detective shows. Set designers don't seem to know how to use garbage to make neighborhoods look lived-in, or directors/producers don't want to show that "garbage look" to audiences.

OK. Who wants to repulse viewers? Fake blood and guts, yes! Real garbage, no! But what about archaeologists who deal mostly with garbage—period?

I recently read two articles published in 2002 by archaeologists about exo-archaeology—the archaeology of outer space. I was interested in what they would say because I wrote a column on exo-archaeology for the September/October 1999 issue of this magazine in which I mentioned that we earthlings have populated our surrounding space with our own garbage. We have launched about 10,000 "resident space objects," such as 1,500 upper stage rockets, myriad explosive bolts, clamp bands and, of course, urine and other bags. I concluded that this light-speed space junk, a major hazard to any future flight, is the natural study area of archaeologists.

I was shocked to find out that, according to Vicky A. Walsh's article "The Case for Exo-Archaeology," the mission of exo-archaeology is to "evaluate distant worlds for signs of intelligent life." Sounds like the mission of Starship Enterprise to me. The author never mentions the issue of how to identify alien garbage or, for that matter, our garbage, the most prolific sign of "intelligent life" in space . . . and on Earth!

Even more disappointing is the paper by Greg Fewer, called "Towards an LSMR and MSMR (Lunar and Martian Sites and Monuments Records): Recording Planetary Spacecraft Landing Sites as Archaeological Monuments of the Future." Yes, let's record landing sites for posterity. But what about the many threats to our future spacecraft from the voluminous hurtling junk discarded from our past ventures? And it is not just us and the Russians anymore. At the end of September 2003, Europeans launched their first unmanned spacecraft to the moon. In October, China became the third nation capable of launching manned spacecraft, and more space cowboys—and space tourists, such as US businessman Dennis Tito who reportedly paid the Russians $20 million for a ride to the International Space Station and back in 2001—are sure to follow.

To complicate matters further, ask yourself what kinds of garbage other space travelers in other parts of our galaxy and beyond have discarded that are now hazards to our space travelers. If we are dedicated to continuing the exploration of space, can we continue to ignore such questions? The report from the committee that investigated the tragic Discovery burn-up called for a complete revamping of the safety culture at NASA. Perhaps it is also time to look at NASA's "garbage culture"—or lack of it.

This space-garbage myopia is a reflection of our whole society's lack of an in-mind approach to our discards. Yes, most people now are recycling, and that reduces garbage. But they also are buying, using, and discarding more nonrecyclables, and that increases garbage. The majority of our clients now are squarely facing recyclables because those items are "good," but they won't directly address the use of nonrecyclables because nonrecyclables are not visible on their radar screens. Yes, garbage still is considered yucky and clearly is out of mind . . . and so are we!

I'm not usually much of a preacher, but it is up to us garbage professionals to change our image and the public's perception of garbage so people can see both us and the garbage we manage for them. That will make us all more content because it will translate into a more secure self-image and less garbage for us to handle in our newfound security.

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

MSW - March/April 2004