consuming society

Years ago, I saw a concert by Bob Dylan, playing at the Nippon Budokan, an indoor arena, in Chiyoda, Tokyo. Originally built for the 1964 summer Olympics and for martial arts contests, it is one of the best performance halls in the world, where scores of famous musicians have played. When the Dylan concert was over, and the audience had left, there wasn’t a crumb of thrash left behind on the huge grounds. You could have eaten off the floor.

In downtown Denver, where I recently visited the Psychedelic Science Conference, the picture was similar, a few scraps here and there, but not the amounts of waste I encounter in my neighborhood every day. Nor did I see a single police patrol car, whereas they are ubiquitous here. It doesn’t stop people from leaving their trash behind wherever they go. Certain cultures don’t view trash as such, waste is just dirt to them, like all other dirt. Some people are frustrated and feel bitter about their circumstances. They leave their mark on the streets out of spite. I get it. Hot spots such as the boardwalk of Lake Zurich are a wasteland every summer morning. The problem is not only one that meets the eye: trash or parts of it end up in animal stomachs, in our water, and in fields and forest. Trash infests nature, including our own nature.

When I think of the money our cities spend on cleaning up behind people who are either too stupid or too lazy to walk a few meters to the next trash can or take home what they would leave behind, my hair stands on end. I wish our authorities were less casual about it. The good things we could with this money, if only we invested a little in teaching people that it is not okay to behave like they don’t know any better. Education, caregiving, the arts, nature, better jobs for the people who now clean up after us – the list seems endless. I am not the only one to complain, it’s just that nothing happens. I also understand that police people feel they have better things to do after three years of extensive training than to play trash patrol.

To have to pry on people never feels good, but the auxiliary sheriffs who distribute fines for over-parked cars and other minor traffic infractions – surely, they wouldn’t mind? They can’t go out there on their own though. Appealing to reason is not always well-received: it isn’t as easy to pin a fine on a rambunctious individual as it is to identify a license plate number. Should I just look away? Move to a gated community? Live in the country? Sigh.

Our jubilee on 23 July drew a nice little crowd. Many thanks to those of you who attended. We are steadily increasing our membership by keeping you informed and entertained, to connect you, and by steadily working on the registration of our archives and media library. Membership costs the equivalent of five bucks a month. We are grateful for and depend on your support. Think about it!

   Susanne G. Seiler 

P.S. You’ll find us at the gaialounge, Hochstrasse 70 (behind Basel’s SBB station, tram stop Peter Merian), every Thursday afternoon from 14 – 18 h. Welcome!

wind swirls