“I can’t believe that people litter like this.” I’ve heard variations on this phrase repeated so many times. Sometimes by people who are angry at ‘litterers’ (as if they were some definitive sub-class of humans). Other times by folks who are genuinely confused by the lack of care that others show for their surroundings. And every time I hear it, I think: Believe it. It’s been happening your whole life. I’ve seen litter tossed from SUVs and sports cars, dog feces bagged and left on the sidewalk and the trail of waste that forms in the wake of students drinking hard on the (every) weekend. I’ve seen massive graveyards of propane tanks, appliances and other debris that would shock most city dwellers. Hundreds of rotting, rusting, decomposing pieces of trash that were no longer seen to hold value, driven down back roads away from critical eyes and left to slowly fall apart and leak their contents into the earth and streams beneath them. Truckloads of construction debris backed onto riverbanks and dumped into the marsh below. Surplus cement poured straight from the truck into Nova Scotia harbours. So let’s not pretend that this is something new and inconceivable.
Rampant litter is a by-product of the kind of society we live in. We buy things we don’t really care about, and we shed them with startling frequency. Feeling sad? Go shopping. Bored? Get new furniture. Or whatever. Hurried and hungry? Get it wrapped in plastic, to go. We stampede to sales and pack our houses with the latest trends, carefully marketed to us to lose their appeal as the next batch is ready. Or they’re designed to break, straight up. We can’t sell you something new if what you have is serving its purpose, of course.
One thing I’m sure of: If all the things we purchased had an appreciable value, they wouldn’t be littered. They would be reused, repaired, repurposed or recycled. Consider the fact that our provincial bottle deposit system has created an informal economy that is run by sports teams, community groups and others in need of additional income. In my neighbourhood, this system is predominantly managed—nickel for nickel—by people living on the streets and dealing with addictions. If that’s not an impressive entrepreneurial feat, I don’t know what is, as it can be hard enough to get even the most privileged people to stoop to pick up the waste we’ve scattered across the landscape.
Of course, we can’t just decide that “worthless” objects be appraised at a higher value than they actually hold—we would bankrupt ourselves in short order if we started throwing money at people for all the disposable debris we produce. So we need to rethink our purchases, and ask some critical questions about our habits of consumption.
A number of years ago, I watched an interview with an elder in Africa who discussed the role of repair in his tribe. He spoke of how his culture took no pride in having something new when something old would serve the purpose. The moment something broke, they saw it as an opportunity to understand the object’s weaknesses and through the act of repair, refine and improve it. What’s more, he said that this perspective applied equally to relationships and social structures. When a relationship was broken, they looked at where it was weak, and improved it through conscientious repair. An incredibly enlightened perspective—one that I feel is often missing in my own society, despite our high standard of living and access to education.
Last year, I was hired to coordinate a province wide litter clean-up called Clean Across Nova Scotia. I certainly doubt that clean-ups alone are a solution to our wasteful habits. Yet, 8,000 people registered to take part over two days in June, excited to show their civic pride and work together to beautify the places they inhabit. It was inspiring, and an indication that there is a tremendous amount of care, waiting to be expressed.
There is much that’s broken in our society. Let’s stop complaining, and start talking about how we’re going to fix it. On April 19 and 20, we’re doing it again, and you can join us. Learn more at cleanacrossns.ca
Neil Bailey is in love with Nova Scotia. You can follow him on Twitter at @neiljohnbailey.
Send your essay ideas for consideration to voice@thecoast.ca
This article appears in Apr 11-17, 2013.
I invite all Nova Scotians and Maritime visitors to: “Think about the stuff in their hands, look for the nearest garbage can, place it in the proper bin, do it, do it, do it, I know you can.” Some of the lyrics to ‘Think, Look, Place’, one of the songs we use in the Litter Prevention Program, enjoyed by all ages and effective at changing littering behaviours by using fun and engagement to present information.
Here’s the conundrum. Only people create litter. Only people can stop it. Littering is against the law in virtually every world jurisdiction. Humans are the only species that create waste that doesn’t break down naturally, and they are very careless with that waste, materials that can be recycled and made into something new and beautiful.
http://www.litterpreventionprogram.com is a website dedicated to news about litter and littering and is a free resource for all.
We’re paying $50 cash to the 2,013th person to sign our Litter Not Pledge in 2013. If you do not litter or will not litter, you can pledge online, no obligation.
Thanks for Neil’s thoughtful article. I’d like to add that I don’t understand why smokers feel that the world is their ashtray. Disgusting — and bad for the environment. For a real shock, check out the beautiful brickwork at Historic Properties. If you can see it for the cigarette butts.
Thanks to you, Sheila and Sphinxy, for continuing the dialogue on the topic. I certainly struggle daily with the lack of care I’ve given to certain objects and relationships in my life, and can identify strongly with the mentality that leads to littering, even if it doesn’t manifest itself in tossing things in the ground, for me. I’ve given less care to people, issues and objects than they deserve, and discussing this publicly helps me focus on and own my own hypocrisy.
I hope that opening this dialogue helps us all think critically about our own ‘levels of care’, and work together to learn how to care more deeply, together.
Thanks for the article. Hope it reaches more than just preaching to the converted. One thing that amazes me in Halifax, though, is how much garbage accumulates on power poles in the name of the arts community. There must be 10s of thousands of rusting staples on Spring Garden Road’s poles alone. I can’t walk in the City’s core without seeing old posters lying on the ground somewhere. And these are all events that I also see advertised in the pages of the Coast.
Come on, it’s 2013 guys, the age of social media, so what’s with all the garbage? The City has set up poster kiosks, and establishments frequented by patrons of the arts community usually offer space to post. The biggest difference I notice between my spot in the South End and the downtown area is how run down the state of the poles there make it look. Yes, I have even seen Clean Nova Scotia posters up.
And this is not random garbage. This is a very organized process involving people I’m sure you know, from printing to distribution, to leaving the people of Halifax to deal with it. Have you ever seen any of these posterers remove a staple? Let’s begin in our own backyard and get the arts community to show they are also part of our civic community. Poster responsibly, that is, not on our streets! Stop defacing our community.