Modern Life Is Rubbish

Why weak litter policies should go in the bin

A damaged suitcase, a deflated paddling pool, a dirty pair of trainers, a defective printer. No, not items on the conveyor belt of a dystopian version of The Generation Game. Detritus I’ve seen on the pavements where I live, nestling with the ubiquitous cans and takeaways (occasionally, people thoughtfully place these on my wall so I can deal with their sauce-smeared wrappers). The gutters are awash with masks and fag ends floating downstream to block the drains. In the park, I’ve noticed discarded little cannisters – apparently, they house nitrous oxide (laughing gas). And recently, I watched my dog hurtle towards what turned out to be a heavily soiled pair of boxer shorts. I mean…

According to Keep Britain Tidy, more than two million pieces of litter are dropped every day in the UK. When it comes to items bigger than crisp packets, out-of-town fly-tippers are often blamed. But that can’t be the whole story. People don’t drive from Wokingham to West London to leave a broken brolly down an alleyway (sorry Wokingham, random selection). These one-off items must be left by individuals who simply can’t be bothered to take responsibility for stuff they no longer want or need.

As for this new ‘kindness’ trend of putting unwanted belongings in random places so people can help themselves, who wants a rained-drenched old bath mat and a soaking wet jigsaw puzzle? Take what’s worthy to a charity shop. And don’t dump it outside out of hours. I once saw a passerby tip freshly laundered baby clothes from the charity’s doorway onto the pavement, pick out a few pieces and leave the rest scattered.

Our streets never used to look like this. My dad wouldn’t have even dropped a half-sucked lozenge. Old news footage and vintage dramas attest to this. Even when I was a child in the suburbs, I don’t’ remember this much rubbish. Occasionally, you’d find a wounded cassette tape, its guts spilling out, awaiting a pencil to spool it back in. But the only genuinely forensically fascinating prize was the dead hedgehog. I distinctly remember one that lay on Queen Mary’s Drive for the summer. Every day, kids watched its slow and disgusting decay, relishing the process the more grisly it became. When the maggots arrived, there was dancing in the streets. The smell of roadkill baking on tarmac was an aroma never to be forgotten.

In any discussion about litter, you’ll doubtless hear lack of government funding is to blame or it’s the council’s fault for not clearing it fast enough. I’d agree that it’s partly the council’s fault…for picking it up too quickly when all this started, encouraging more to be dumped, rather than tackling why people thought they could do it in the first place. I know, I know, up goes the cry that prosecutions are made and you can’t catch everyone. But councils have become uncommonly agile when monitoring motoring misdemeanours. Park your car two inches over a line or drive a minute too late into a restricted zone and you’ll swiftly feel the full weight of the law. No ifs or buts. But leave a mattress or fridge-freezer on the corner and more than likely, nada.

I looked at the government website on litter. It wrestles with the problem of measuring it, deliberating whether to count it by weight, number of items or size. They’re really scratching their heads on this one. Good grief. Who cares how you measure it? Just say there’s too much and it shouldn’t be there. And while it’s not the worst misdemeanour, research shows a littered environment contributes to escalating crime, with people feeling less safe in such areas.

One reason that’s given for more items being left is that for struggling households, it’s too expensive to have them taken away. But surely the council could help those in genuine need? Or friends in the neighbourhood could come together, maybe do a single tip run. Perhaps younger generations who are so up on recycling and sustainability would be keen to assist. Although I wonder if they’re all so squeaky clean judging by the aftermath of the Reading Festival that resembled a tip, complete with abandoned tents.

Keep Britain tidy goes into detail about the public bodies legally responsible for keeping land litter-free. I’ll tell you who’s responsible. EVERYONE. And if that sank in properly, taxpayers wouldn’t be spending over £1 billion a year to clear it up. The truth is litter isn’t about funding. It’s about the prevailing culture. And in this respect, ours has changed. For the worse. When I was on the bullet train travelling from Kyoto, I was surprised to see passengers unpack mini banquets. Bento boxes abounded. But by the time that train hit the buffers at Tokyo, not one piece of rubbish was left. A demonstration it is possible.