Politics is rubbish

An Englishman’s home is his castle, but his wheelie bin is not far behind as a symbol of domestic independence. So it is no surprise that the spread of fortnightly, rather than weekly, rubbish collection has stirred such strong emotions. In the midst of soaring April temperatures, the prospect of stinking piles of black bags, pecked at by rats and birds, is vile indeed.

A government that lectures the electorate about ‘respect’ and antisocial behaviour cannot be complacent about a trend that risks bringing the hygiene standards of the shanty town to thousands of streets. Jim Callaghan never actually said ‘Crisis? What crisis?’, but the headline captured his jovial detachment from the collapse of basic amenities in Britain. Ministers dare not seem indifferent about a wholly understandable public anxiety. To the average voter, the threat of vermin swarming over fetid bins on his doorstep is much more pressing than the exhortations of Al Gore on climate change, or the niceties of a ‘post-Kyoto protocol’.