For what I believe in

Sorting and recycling waste

Clip: every good Japanese dancer sorts his waste.

The Flemish environmental agency was full of praise for me last week. Me and the rest of Flanders, that is. We sort 75 per cent of our waste. “Golly,” I thought when I heard that. “Seventy-five per cent. That much. So, what the heck does that mean?” Well, what it means is that I place 75 per cent of my trash in the blue bag, or the yellow bin or I cart it off to the dump, where I sort out batteries and bottles and dangerous fluid containers (I think that needs a hyphen) and the electrical goods I paid to throw away 15 years ago. The thing is: how do they know it’s 75 per cent? I mean, is that by weight, because no one asks to weigh my batteries when I chuck them in the Bebat bin, or can tell the difference between a big bottle and a small bottle. And does it include garden refuse, like cuttings off the rose bush?

My self-enquiries were halted mid-thought when the announcer announced, as announcers do, that the Flemish environment agency thinks we should be doing more. A paltry 75 per cent? Man, pull yourself together, smarten up, and fly right: they want 90 per cent from me.

I returned to the thought I was midway through before this admonition was issued and completed it—with impeccable relevance—by adding, “And how, exactly will you know I reached that figure?”