Last summer was not a good one for those fighting Taiwan's war on garbage. In early July 1992, a group of residents in the Taipei suburb of Hsinchuang blockaded the local dump, claiming that the twelve-year-old landfill was causing a stench in their neighborhood. In the three-week stand-off that followed, tensions escalated steadily as the city searched unsuccessfully for a new dump site.
With no place to deposit the three hundred metric tons of waste produced in Hsinchuang each day, mounds of trash soon mushroomed along the streets of the town. The city government tried desperately to set up emergency dump sites in several nearby locations, but these proposals were fiercely opposed by residents. Even promises of hefty community development funds failed to help. After a nineteen-day stalemate, more than five thousand metric tons of trash were piled at an emergency site near the town's water pumping station. Under the hot summer sun, this mountain of rubbish posed a significant health risk as a breeding site for mosquitoes and flies. Officials feared an outbreak of dengue fever.
The deadlock broke just after midnight on July 21, when a convoy of fifty-one loaded garbage trucks rumbled up to the old dump. When more than one thousand police officers arrived to assist, protesters gave way but promised to continue pushing the government to find a new site. Today, the town has still not found a new dump site, and the city government plans to continue using the reopened dump until an incinerator is opened in the summer of 1994. Tensions between protesters and the government remain high.
Offloading in Sanchung city-Because of limited landfill space, only 70 percent of Taiwan's municipal solid waste is disposed of properly. The remaining third is buried in non-sanitary dumps.
The widely publicized garbage crisis at Hsinchuang has become a symbol of Taiwan's inability to cope with its steadily increasing volumes of solid waste. In the year that has passed since the photos of the gargantuan garbage mountain appeared in newspapers islandwide, concerns about solid waste management have remained high.
Garbage treatment has become the public's number one environmental concern. Of the 77,500 environmental nuisance disputes reported to the Environmental Protection Administration (EPA) in 1992, 38 percent focused on solid waste. The EPA has made garbage treatment a top priority for 1993. More than two-thirds of the annual budget now goes to solid waste management, largely to finance the construction of 22 incinerators, 78 sanitary landfills, and I composting plant.
Earlier this year, the Executive Yuan asked the EPA to identify the island's five most important environmental problems. Managing solid waste appeared twice on that list, once for municipal solid waste and once for industrial-commercial garbage. And during the December 1992 legislative elections, garbage management problems emerged as a central theme in campaigns for both KMT and DPP politicians.
Local environmental groups also sense the mounting public concern. “I believe that water quality is the number one environmental problem for Taiwan, and garbage is number four or five, but the public puts this problem first,” says Jay Fang (方儉 ), secretary-general of the Green Consumers' Foundation. As a result, the foundation is focusing on several recycling and waste reduction projects.
Trash accumulation is the most tangible environmental problem facing the island. Every night, in every urban neighborhood, pedestrians mu t pick their way around large piles of trash bags set out for collection along street and sidewalks. And on weekend trip to the beaches or mountains, visitors commonly find the sand and trails scarred with litter. With these visible reminder of the problem,Fang expects worry over solid waste treatment to remain the public's top environmental concern for some time. “There is nowhere to put the trash, and the incinerators are slow in coming,” Fang says. “People feel it is a nuisance, so they push the government to think of trash as a first priority.”
“We see it every day, so it influences our daily life very much,” says Lee Mei-ling (林美玲), president of the Homemakers' Union and Foundation. Although Lee, like others in this 700-member nonprofit social welfare organization, believes that nuclear waste poses a greater threat to Taiwan's environment, she realizes that the public's main worry is garbage. “If we can solve the garbage problem, we will have a better quality of life,” she explains. The foundation has made trash reduction its primary concern for this year.
The amount of municipal solid waste produced annually in Taiwan has nearly tripled during the past fifteen years. In 1979, local governments collected 8,800 metric tons of municipal solid waste each day. The volume reached 18,800 tons by 1990; 21,900 tons in 1992. On average, each island resident produced 0.63 kilogram of garbage in 1979; 0.96 kilogram in 1990; and 1.0 kilogram in 1992.
Ninety percent of municipal solid waste goes into landfills or dumps. Three percent is now incinerated and a tiny fraction is composted. Overall, only 70 percent of the garbage is treated properly. The rest is put into landfills that do not meet EPA sanitation requirements.
Adding to the difficulties, many of Taiwan's landfills are filled to capacity, and building replacements is difficult since land is extremely limited and, in some cases, local residents oppose the new sites. As of June, three-fourths of Taiwan's 316 landfills were near capacity; 111 of them would definitely be full by the end of this year. Rushing to prepare for this, the EPA is asking local governments to construct new landfills or build temporary, emergency dump sites.
How did Taiwan's landfills get so full so fast? One major cause is that commercial and industrial waste has been dumped into municipal landfills for years. In 1992, the island produced 8 million metric tons of municipal solid waste and 50 million metric tons of manufacturing waste, not including waste derived from agriculture or mining. “In Taiwan, we do not have separate landfills for industrial commercial solid waste,” explains Ho Soon-ching (何舜琴), senior specialist at the EPA's, Solid Waste Management Bureau. “This waste also enters the municipal garbage landfill.”
But the EPA has recently taken steps to treat and reduce commercial and industrial waste. Under the 1988 amendments to the Solid Waste Disposal Act, industrial and commercial businesses were required to properly clear or dispose of the waste they generate-that is, either transport it to an approved landfill or burn it in their own incinerators. The revisions also require manufacturers, importers, and distributors of certain products to recycle or reuse them. Since the amendments, recycling channels have been set up for PET (polyethylene terephthalate) bottles, tires, cans, agricultural pesticide containers, and mercury and lead batteries.
The law was not enforced until 1990. “After that, we made each company develop a proposal for how it would dispose of its waste, and we checked the facilities,” Ho says. Those who don't comply with the regulations are fined. The fines for improperly disposing of general waste are NT$ 6,000- $30,000 (US$240-$1,200); for hazardous waste, NT$60,000-$150,000 (US$2,400-$6,000). In fiscal year 1992, the EPA and local environmental protection bureaus issued NT$65 million (US$2.6 million) in fines. Boosted enforcement also pushed manufacturing companies around the island to construct seven industrial incinerators and spurred thirty hospitals to build incinerators (although only seven have met EPA requirements for treating hospital waste).
Despite these marks of progress, some environmental groups feel the government is doing too little to make polluters pay. They point out that the total volume of municipal solid waste has continued to grow by 6 percent per year islandwide, 10 percent annually in Taipei. “We think if a company produces waste, they must recycle or recover it. I think this is the duty of the company,” says Lee Mei-ling of the Homemakers' Union. But although the Solid Waste Disposal Act spells out such responsibilities, too many businesses do not comply with the regulations. “We have a law, but we don't execute it very well,” she says. “I think right now, executing it is the most important thing.”
Jay Fang points out that many manufacturers and importers of recyclable materials are benefiting from Taiwan's booming economy without assuming any responsibility for their contribution to the island's deteriorating environment. “Producers of aseptic pack [foil-lined card-board drink containers] don't pay anything for the environment,” Fang says. “Meanwhile, they make big profits.”
Could Taiwan face another Hsinchuang garbage crisis? The EPA's, Ho Soon-ching would not be surprised. Because the island only has facilities to properly dispose of 70 percent of the municipal waste produced, the one-third that is deposited in open dumps frequently brings on opposition from neighboring residents. And with three-fourths of the island's landfills nearing capacity, tensions are mounting as local governments scramble to build new ones. “Nobody likes to have a landfill in their area,” Ho says. “Some of the landfills were constructed many years ago, but garbage still cannot be dumped [because of protests].”
Ho Soon-ching says when the twenty-two proposed incinerators are completed, "the big problems should be solved."
This year, Ho warns that because 1993 is an election year, politics could easily boost small protests into large ones. Taiwan will hold islandwide elections for city and county magistrates in December. Ho and other EPA officials expect garbage to be a central issue in the campaigns. “The waste problem is political,” Ho says. “There is the potential for a problem similar to the one in Hsinchuang. Sometimes, we find a very suitable place for a landfill, but because residents may belong to one [political] group and the government to another, they just want to protest.”
Incineration is the EPA’s, main solution to the garbage blues. One public incinerator now operates in Taiwan, and twenty-one others are in various stages of planning or construction around the island. The first, a NT$2.4 billion facility, was completed in the Taipei suburb of Neihu in 1992 and now treats nine hundred metric tons of waste per day. When all twenty-two are up and running, scheduled for 1998, they will treat up to 220,050 metric tons of municipal solid waste each day.
Will the incinerators solve Taiwan's garbage problem? Ho thinks so. “Smaller counties may still have a problem because it is hard to transport garbage there,” she says, “But the big problems should be solved.” Factoring in annual increases in the volume of solid waste produced, the incinerators are expected to process about three-fourths of Taiwan's municipal garbage. After processing, the waste will be reduced to about one-tenth its original bulk.
Jay Fang faults the EPA for "pipe-end control," focusing on disposing of garbage rather than reducing it at the source.
This large-scale incineration will come at a price. Construction of the remaining incinerators will run about NT$90 billion (US$3.6 billion). When up and running, incineration will cost an estimated NT$800 (US$32) per metric ton. But EPA officials believe that the funding for this project will be approved, despite competition from more than seven hundred other public projects outlined in the Six-Year National Development Plan. “In principal, the NT$90 billion has been approved,” says Rhee Ten-miz (呂天民), chief engineer at the EPA’s, Bureau of Incinerator Engineering. “People understand how much it is going to cost.” He adds that, compared with other six-year plan projects, the incinerators are in good standing. Says Rhee, “I would say that we are considered top priority.”
A bigger problem than funding may be the protests from local residents. Construction on three incinerators-one in Hsinchu and two in Tainan-has been postponed due to local opposition, and Rhee says that smaller protests are common. “In Taiwan, there is no such thing as an incinerator without a protest,” he says. “But it's not like a nuclear power plant. Most of them can be dealt with without topping the project.”
Ho maintains that the opposition is smaller than the building of new landfills. “With incinerators, the concern is over noise; with landfills, the big concern is flies and mosquitoes,” Ho says. The success of the first large-scale incinerator has helped to quell fears of noise and air pollution. “The Neihu incinerator is running pretty well,” she says. “We invite the public to visit the Neihu site for educational programs. After that, many accept the idea.”
Taipei's 8 million cubic-meter Futekeng landfill will be full by year's end. The city's solid waste is now increasing by 10 percent per year.
The government has also sweetened incinerator projects by adding community improvement facilities to nearly all the design plans. The incinerator in Neihu, for example, includes a NT$300 million public recreation area with an exhibition center, tennis courts, playground, skating rink, and a heated swimming pool. Nearly all the incinerator projects include similar community amenities.
Conservationists are less confident that the incinerators will answer Taiwan's garbage troubles. Jay Fang is concerned about the pollution that incinerators themselves produce. He has not been able to get information from the EPA on the ash content or gas and water emissions from the Neihu incinerator and is concerned that they may be polluting the environment. Fang also points out that, although the incinerated ash is highly toxic, it is dumped in landfills made for general municipal waste. “There is no hazardous-waste dump site in Taiwan,” Fang says.
A less tangible problem is that too little emphasis is being placed on reducing waste. “It's crazy,” Fang says. “Total garbage production is 22,000 metric tons per day, but we are building two incinerators in Taipei that can burn 20,000 tons a day each. The government says: When these are complete, we will have reached capacity.” He believes that preparing for steadily increasing amounts of garbage is the wrong philosophy; reduction and recycling should be top priorities.
“We shouldn't burn 100 percent of our garbage,” Fang says. “Some is toxic; some is recyclable.” He calls the current approach “pipe-end control,” where the focus is on treating the garbage after it is produced rather than reducing it at the source. “If you do not minimize waste, it is meaningless to recycle,” Fang says. And some materials, he believes, should be phased out altogether. “Styrofoam should just be forbidden; aseptic pack should be forbidden,” he says. Most important, according to Fang, are efforts to educate the public and involve business in recycling and waste reduction.
Smooth going? Officials will not be surprised if yet another garbage crisis emerges this year as local governments scramble to find new landfills.
Environmentalist Lee Mei-ling agrees. While much of the progress in managing solid waste depends on gaining cooperation from industrial and commercial sectors, she stresses that reducing municipal solid waste is also vital. Through teaching programs summer camps for kids, and public awareness campaigns, the foundation is trying to change the habits of the public. Lee's main goal is to stress the three R's: reduce, reuse. recycle. “We tell people, when they buy something, they should ask themselves: Will this product produce more waste? Is it necessary?” she says. Ultimately, Lee hopes to stimulate a radical change in consumer patterns.
“We must realize that the best thing to do is to reduce waste,” Lee says. “We try to tell the public our lives can be simpler-the simpler the better. We don't need so many things. You can have a better quality of life with less.” But such a change would mean reversing the trend toward enjoying newfound economic growth. “Taiwan was so poor for such a long time,” she says, “it is not easy to go back to a simpler way now.” ■