Prosperity has come at a price in Belgium. As affluence has grown, so has the country’s waste mountain — a problem that all governments are finding increasingly hard to ignore.
But, the region of Flanders in Belgium claims to have found a solution, and the world’s waste authorities are beating a path to its door.
Since 2005, its population has increased and the region has got richer, but the total amount of waste generated has stayed the same. In economists’ terms, Flanders has “decoupled” waste from economic growth, and delegations from Russia, China and Britain have all been there recently to find out how they have done it.
Flanders’ recycling rates of 72% in rural areas and more than 60% in urban areas are among the highest in the world.
One small part of the answer was last week strutting around the suburban garden of Vigoreux Aime (71). He proudly showed off his chickens — red and black bantams and white leghorns that he keeps for the eggs. He says: “They eat everything — grass cuttings too wet for the compost, and they even love bones.”
The chickens are part of Flanders’s system of taxes and incentives to reduce its waste. The public waste agency, Ovam, has allowed local authorities to introduce subsidies for a range of waste prevention measures — from compost bins to chickens and “reuse” centres.
At the spotless civic amenity centre in Ghent, the different waste categories are organised into dozens of disposal units. There is one for batteries, one for chip pan oil (which will eventually be used as vehicle fuel) and others for furniture, paper, wood and cans. There’s even a place where dead pets can be brought for cremation.
And Flanders is well down the track of getting people to pay for what they waste. Under the current system, Ghent citizens can make up to 24 free separate visits a year to drop off their bulky waste. Other recyclable goods are collected for free on separate well-publicised days for each type of material. But households have to pay to dispose of the waste they don’t recycle. In Ghent, the price is â,¬1,30 a sack for any rubbish that cannot be recycled.
Flanders can avoid landfilling largely because it burns most of its waste. The local incinerator in Ghent, next to Ovam’s offices, was refurbished in 1996 and takes 100 000 tonnes of waste a year. Last year, it started to recover energy as steam, using it to heat the university hospital 1km away, via a pipeline. Flanders’s planning laws, designed to phase out landfill, do place strict limits and quality standards on incineration. But while Ghent has a state-of-the-art “energy from waste plant”, incineration is still considered controversial by environmental groups and there is no avoiding that there are problems with it.
Ovam’s taxes and local authority subsidies are the extension of the principle that the polluter pays. Landfill is taxed at â,¬R75 a tonne, while incineration is taxed at just less than â,¬7. When the scheme was introduced 10 years ago, waste fell by 30%.
What has proved more difficult has been reaching the poorer communities in the city centre. Recycling rates are lower here, at 62%. A government law means that Ovam is allowed to communicate only in Flemish, which makes it hard to reach the many different immigrant communities.
If a scheme works well, it is less likely to be due to any public initiative than to the enthusiasm of individuals — such as Willy Vennaman, a 68-year-old former boxer who is concierge of one block of flats. He sifts through dumped bags of rubbish to identify who has illegally left them, then puts the bag outside their front door. “They don’t do it again,” he says.
Another scheme flourishing in Ghent is the Kringwinkel chain of “reuse” stores, in which goods are dismantled and repaired. Rows of washing machines and fridges sit next to stripped-off components such as computer cables. The white goods come with six-month guarantees. “Everything can be reused,” says the manager, Els Dujen. “There is demand for everything we supply — if it’s priced appropriately.”
“The message is clear: whether it’s cheap chickens, affordable second-hand white goods or expensive rubbish, ultimately, the key is pricing — backed up with well-designed and communicated systems,” says Dominic Hogg, a waste consultant.
Rachel Eburne, interim director of the Women’s Environmental Network, says: “Waste prevention cuts right against the grain of consumer society. But our experience shows there’s huge potential to promote a different model of business — promoting services over products and prioritising quality and durability over ‘convenient’ disposable items.”
Ray Georgeson, director of policy for the United Kingdom government’s waste and resources action plan, points out the dilemma at the heart of the subject: “No government is in the business of saying we need less stuff.” — Â