IN 1988, Seattle city's officials announced a plan to recycle 60 per cent of its garbage in 10 years. Five years later, however, this ambitious programme is running out of steam.

The programme has become a big-city benchmark. About 42 per cent of all the city's trash goes into recycling bins and 90 per cent of all single-family homes participate in the programme. To get residents to recycle, Seattle charges heavily for each extra barrel of garbage they put out.

Small businesses have shown little interest in the programme and experts say the 60 per cent target cannot be met unless draconian steps, such as fining non-participants, are taken. Besides, some recycled materials such as glass are being stockpiled by the government and have even been dumped in landfills because they cannot be sold.

Built-in pitfall
A built-in pitfall is that the more active the programme, the more it floods the market, depresses prices and raises programme costs. Five years ago, waste paper was sold for $25 a tonne, mostly to Asian markets. Now, contractors who pick up and dispose of the city's garbage pay $25 a tonne to get it off their hands. City officials are desperately searching for markets for used glass, plastic and paper, but pilot efforts proved unprofitable and were dropped.

The idea of recycling, nevertheless, seems more popular than ever. Advertisements constantly exhort residents to recycle. A Seattle-based coffee purveyor gives a discount of 10 per cent to patrons who recycle their cups, and a city group boasts of recycling everything. In fact, writes a Seattle Times columnist, the city's preoccupation with recycling has turned the "Paper or plastic?" checkout-counter question into a "theological dilemma".

Says recycling planner Raymond Hoffman: "We're the Saudi Arabia of paper and it behoves us to capitalise on that."