REFLECTIONS ON WHEELIE BINS IN SHETLAND

The recent roll-out of wheelie bins throughout Shetland brings to mind the plateau of Springbrook, a beautiful National Park region in the southeast corner of Queensland, Australia, rising to an altitude of nearly 1000 metres. The local council managing this area once had the idea that wheelie bins should be distributed to facilitate waste collection. The population protested. Of all the issues that were raised as a concern, the visual amenity generated the greatest comment. Many spoke about the silliness of pushing the bins some hundreds of metres along bush tracks, if they were able - wheelie bins are not that easy to manipulate when full; others mentioned the problems of placement and access. The main concern was the impact on this World Heritage-listed region, the appearance. The community was happy to continue to use the local recycling/transfer centre, known simply as 'the dump,' located opposite the community hall, just for the sake of the environment.

Springbrook, Queensland

Springbrook is a part of the Gondwana Rainforest Area of Australia, recognised by UNESCO for its unique biodiversity. It is not as though this important listing means a thing to any branch of government: so it was that the idea of the wheelie bins was raised, only to be put aside once the local residents objected. This World Heritage area deserved more than a parade of plastic bins lining every road and dirt track, turning this special area into the cliche image of suburbia.  

One can recognise the functional efficacy of wheelie bins. In towns and cities across the world, this efficient scheme of waste management has proven itself time and time again. The reverse-hand drive vehicle with its special grab-and-lift gadget allows waste collection to be managed by one truck and one person, cleanly and effectively. The trash can even be checked with cameras. Recycling is managed by having a yellow lid on the bin, with general refuse usually having a red top. So successful is the system, that, in some areas, a green-capped bin has been introduced for, yes, green waste. The bins turn collection of anything into a simple, efficient and cost-effective, colour-coded process. Offices use them for general waste, and paper waste too; even, when locked, for the disposal of secure documents. Little wonder that the wheelie bin has been adopted world wide to become the ubiquitous, ugly piece of urban furniture, generally disliked by most, but seen as something handy.

So one is not surprised that the Shetland Islands Council is apparently so impressed with these units: but here one thinks of Springbrook – the appearance. What are the aesthetic implications of these suburban containers on the unique island landscape that attracts visitors from across the world - its naked beauty? This is only one matter, but it is significant. In Springbrook's case, the environmental impact was important enough to have the idea dismissed. Wheelie bins transform places in the same way as wind turbines do, cluttering them, making them look like anywhere, everywhere else in the world.

But there is more to be considered: Shetland proposes to manage its wind problem - in response to the question: "Won't the bins just blow away?" - with restraints, be these special brackets, rope ties or some elastic invention for both the bins themselves and their lids. Whatever ideas might be implemented, undoing and doing up again is involved; some form of manual release and replacement will be required. One soon realises that the efficiency of the one-man wheelie bin system is compromised, even with slip knots.

Shetland is introducing more recycling with the bins - 'blue-lidded bin for paper, card and cardboard; grey-lidded bin for cans, cartons and plastic bottles.' Surely this recycling must be good? But general trash is to be treated the same, though less frequently, handled with the familiar black plastic bags, ironically perpetuating the problem of this polluting waste; and the system of recycling glass is to remain the same too, using the existing local collection points for these items. Rather comically, the wheelie bin distribution provides a 'purple reusable bag' to allow for the transport of glass bottles and jars to the nearest recycling location, wherever this might be. One wonders: why not have communal bins for plastic and paper, even general waste, at these positions? Cans and clothing are already collected in bins beside the glass containers (e.g. at Baltasound). Are scattered wheelie bins really a good solution? Why not manage everything in one way - either with all items in wheelie bins if they are so desirable, or with a selection of collection bins at community recycle points? The hybrid approach appears to offer the worst of both worlds.

One has to be in favour of more and more recycling, but are specialised wheelie bins really the answer? The ironic thought is: why burden the environment with an 'improved' environmental policy? One of the most effective and well-used recycling systems was seen in Portugal. Here local collection points with an array of six different containers for sorted refuse - general, green, glass, metal, plastic and paper - are conveniently scattered throughout the communities, and are seen to be used conscientiously and regularly too. Why provide a unique collection system for some specified materials using wheelie bins that need to be tied and untied, or hooked and unhooked, while maintaining the status quo for other waste?

There is something confusing in the introduction of wheelie bins in Shetland. The intent is admirable, but the solution appears muddled; there is a dearth of simple order and logic: the idea lacks elegance, that combination of clarity, style and grace; the completeness experienced in mathematical, scientific, and even in good, detailed design solutions. There seems to be a deficiency of coherence in the concept that feels a bit like sundry pieces of jigsaw being forced together to be optimistically promoted as the most desirable solution, when only diverse complications are revealed, each requiring its own cascade of new approaches to address the inherent issues. 'Clumsy' is the word that comes to mind as one peruses the responses to the 27 FAQs on the website.

Is it too late for a re-think, if only to acknowledge and respect the sense of place known and experienced as Shetland, if the subtlety and sufficiency of solutions is irrelevant? This requires an understanding and commitment that Shetland and its council could glean from Springbrook's response to a similar circumstance.

P.S.

Wheelie bins really do have a pernicious impact on our lives. Councils have to create a new department to manage replacements and repairs. Bins split both with ordinary handling and abuse, and need welding; wheels and lids break, and need repairing; bins burn and get damaged beyond mending possibilities, and need replacement. Police have new challenges too, with 'new' crimes involving wheelie bins: stolen bins, wrongly dumped trash, burned bins, and bin riders, all create 'new' crimes. As for the primary concern: will my bin get blown away? - councils across the world have devised systems to secure wheelie bins in public places. This work needs to be reviewed. How lids stop being blown open seems to be a Shetland issue that requires a solution better than a stretchy string.