IN QUIET, well-kept streets and cosy cul-de-sacs across the country people are getting rather angry. In some towns and cities this civilised unrest even threatens to erupt into something hotter. The object of their restrained ire is the wheelie bin.

Maurice Gale, of the pressure group Pavements for People (PfP), says: “We cannot allow great ugly lumps of green plastic to become the predominant architectural feature of our streets.”

That such a pressure group now exists reveals the strength of feeling among ordinary, law-abiding people. Yes, there is the trouble in Iraq. And, of course, taxes should be lower. But, as single issues go, rubbish is top of the heap.

Local people are tackling councils in Edinburgh and York, but nowhere is this issue more contentious than in Brighton and Hove. Residents of the leafy semi-suburb of Preston Park are waging a full-scale campaign against wheelie bins.

“This is a conservation area,” says Gale, a member of the local PfP committee. “The council forces us to consult them before making even the smallest change to our homes. But almost overnight they blighted us with these bins.”

Gale does not actually have wheelie bins on his street. But that is entirely missing the point. “They’re everywhere. We have to walk past, or around, them every day. They’re ugly, they stink and they’re obstructive — especially if you have a buggy or use a wheelchair. They ruin the character of the area and devalue property.”

Fears that wheelie bins might be overloaded and hurtle down steep streets into traffic or be used as hiding places for dead bodies have yet to be realised. It is more likely, in the feverish local property market, that they will be let as very small studio flats by unscrupulous landlords.

Gill Mitchell, chair of the Environment Committee of Brighton and Hove Council, says: “Nobody likes the look of wheelie bins, but there’s no doubt they work.” Nearly 40,000 wheelie bins have been introduced in Brighton and Hove over the past few years — much to the dismay of the seagulls and foxes who treat bin bags as fast-food buffets. Living at the top of a hill on a fairly narrow street, I remain happily wheelie-bin free. There have been many concerns from neighbours but, with the exception of Preston Park, few actual objections.

There is also a health and safety consideration for refuse collectors. Repeatedly bending to pick up bags and swinging them into the lorry can lead to repetitive strain injury and back damage. Wheelie bins are trundled, then lifted and emptied automatically. They are also sturdier, which means that sharp objects — including needles — are no longer a hazard. “We accept the health and safety arguments,” says Gale.

“The cost of collecting rubbish has been cut by almost £500,000 a year,” says Mitchell. More rubbish in fewer receptacles means fewer rounds and less staff. But still council tax bills rise. Where have those savings gone?

Like all local councils, Brighton and Hove is having to reduce the amount of rubbish it sends to landfill and increase the proportion of waste it recycles. “By 2020 the amount of biodegradable waste sent to landfill must be cut to 35 per cent of 1995 levels,” says Mitchell. Something has to be done.

Recycling is where the savings are being made. Alongside the wheelie bins, little black boxes have been issued. Each house can have as many as its residents can store. And into each box goes just about everything except garden waste and juice cartons. By Christmas most households will have at least one box and it will be collected at least fortnightly.

“It’s a huge challenge,” says Jan Jonker, head of strategy for Cityclean, the council’s in-house recyclists, which picks up after the people of Brighton and Hove. Despite having a job that has plenty of vocal critics, Jonker is reasonable. “This is a local issue, but it has national and global implications. We have to get it right.”

There is no need for environmental anguish; we all know why we have to recycle, especially those of us who live near the sea. But — until the introduction of wheelie bins — there was no incentive. Now, any rubbish that will not fit in a wheelie bin will be left to rot on your doorstep — unless you recycle it. It is harsh, but effective.

“We had one of the worst recycling rates in the country,” says Jonker. “But now we’re close to meeting our target of 30 per cent.”

Preston Park is one of the best neighbourhoods in the area. But you cannot have the boxes without the bins.

Gale recently hanged a wheelie from a tree outside a meeting of PfP, residents and the council. “This issue isn’t going to go away,” he says. “We need a solution.”

One approach is to treat waste as a utility, as if it were electricity or gas. You could pay as you throw, for example. “In Holland bins have barcodes and you are charged per kilo,” says Jonker. “But it’s free to recycle.”

Another idea might be to redesign the much-maligned wheelie bin — give it a makeover, so that it looks less like an overweight Dalek.

Until then, the war goes on. If the wheelie bins are not withdrawn, Gale and his fellow rubbish rebels promise to take action. It’s going to get dirty. Very dirty.

www.pavementsforpeople.org.uk

www.brighton-hove.gov.uk/cityclean

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