There are some crimes which can be forgiven. Robbery now just merits a tap on the wrist. Speeding can be blamed on someone else. Social disorder can be classified as banter. Notwithstanding, there is a crime so common to everyday life that some would have you thrown into the wheelie bin, burnt and crisped, until you were floating around in the atmosphere like a carbon-killing cat: failing to do the recycling.
Recycling, one of the most mundane household chores, has the potential to divide even the most tightly-knitted of student houses. Myriad methods have been tried in order to overcome this mammoth obstacle: many adopt a household rota or cleaning up as you go along, to get along. But like a German eating a cucumber, you know they are doomed.
One member of the household usually puts themselves into the democratically unelected position of dictator, hell-bent on making sure that the rest follow their goody-two-shoes attitude of recycling everything possible, using carrier bags that used to be rubber dinghies to go shopping. The others, in a desperate attempt to maintain all harmony, stick to the status-quo and follow orders willy-nilly, too afraid to usurp the powers that be in fear of looking like a carbon-dated twit. Sure, the environmentalists would say, but someone needs to take charge in order to tackle global warming. However, the culture of recycling is still very much an issue of class and wealth; an amicable deed by the middle classes.
So when York council announced its plans to move back to weekly bin collections, I was delighted that my life would be made easier because of less effort. But therein lies the problem with recycling, it is too much effort. After separating your rubbish into eighteen different piles, washing each tin out (to make the rubbish clean before you bin it) and then throwing away the stuff that cannot be recycled anyway, the whole process is a farce. And the reward for recycling? A clear conscience and toilet paper which is one hundred percent recycled (a lovely thought).
The trouble is that people do not know what is good for them. Most people don’t like doing revision because it can be slow and tedious, and left to their own devices many would give up. The same applies to recycling; if we cannot make it easy and collective then not even Jedi Jim could stop it failing. What’s more, we have come to university to seek our independence, not to be told by some divine philistine how to live our lives. Why should we accept what others are telling us what to do, when we have enough to think about ourselves?
The challenge for the University, assuming they are still keen to go green, is to make recycling more convenient everywhere across campus. They could do worse than looking to Germany which has a system of recycling whereby four recycling bins are used for every one waste bin; allowing people to easily separate their rubbish. If recycling was that easy then we’d all do it.
But rather than accept our fate and be told by the council, by our housemates and by the University whether we should or shouldn’t recycle, we should take the initiative. Recycling may be a task which is associated with the dominating middle-classes, who are desperate to be seen and not heard; but we should tackle the problem from the ground up. By putting pressure on the university, together we can lead York into the future.
Only by treating them mean, can we make York go green.