Bringing France鈥檚 Waste Prevention Plan to Life
Why you can trust us
Andr茅e Nieuwjaer, a 67-year-old resident of Roubaix, France, is what one might call a frugal shopper. Her fridge is full of produce that she got for free. Over the summer, she ate peaches, plums, carrots, zucchinis, turnips, endives鈥攁ll manner of fruits and vegetables that local grocers didn鈥檛 want to sell, whether because of some aesthetic imperfection or because they were slightly overripe.
What Nieuwjaer couldn鈥檛 eat right away, she preserved鈥攁s fig marmalade, apricot jam, pickles. Reaching into the depths of her refrigerator in September, past a jar of diced beets she鈥檇 preserved in vinegar, she tapped a container of chopped pineapple whose shelf life she鈥檇 extended with lemon juice: 鈥淚t鈥檒l last all month!鈥� she exclaimed. Just a few inches away, two loaves of bread that a nearby school was going to get rid of lay in a glass baking dish, reconstituted as bread pudding. A third loaf was in a jar in the cupboard, transformed into bread crumbs that Nieuwjaer planned to sprinkle on a veggie casserole.
With everything she鈥檇 stocked up, Nieuwjaer was all set on groceries for the next few months. 鈥淚鈥檓 going to eat for free all winter,鈥� she said, beaming.
Nieuwjaer is part of a worldwide movement known in French as z茅ro d茅chet, or zero waste. The central idea is simple: Stop generating so much garbage and reap the many intertwined social, economic, and environmental benefits. Rescuing trash-bound produce, for example, stops food waste that can release potent greenhouse gasses in a landfill. Making your own shampoo, deodorant, and other beauty products reduces the need for disposable plastic bottles鈥攑lus, it tends to use safer ingredients, meaning less danger for fish and other wildlife.
But Nieuwjaer didn鈥檛 just decide to join the movement one day; she was drawn into it as part of a local government experiment in waste management. In 2015, Roubaix launched a campaign to reduce litter by teaching 100 families鈥攊ncluding Nieuwjaer鈥檚鈥攕trategies for cutting their waste in half. Similar efforts may soon be repeated across France as cities and regions strive to meet (and exceed) the country鈥檚 ambitious waste-reduction goals. A fundamental question is at the heart of their efforts: How do you get citizens to change their behavior?
France is famous for its fine wines and cheese. However, among a more niche audience, the country is also known as a zero-waste leader. Besides producing one of the world鈥檚 most famous zero-waste influencers, 鈥攖he 鈥減riestess of waste-free living,鈥� according to 鈥擣rance has passed some of the developed world鈥檚 most ambitious waste-reduction policies. It was the first country in the world to ban supermarkets from throwing away unsold food and one of the first to enshrine 鈥溾�� into law, making big polluters financially responsible for the waste they create, even after their items are sold.
In 2020, France passed a landmark anti-waste law that laid out dozens of objectives for waste prevention, recycling, and repairability, including a national goal to eliminate single-use plastic by 2040. The law banned clothing companies from destroying unsold merchandise, required all public buildings to install water fountains, and proposed . At the time, the law was praised as 鈥�,鈥� and several of its provisions were hailed as the first of their kind.
According to France鈥檚 , finalized in March by the administration of President Emmanuel Macron, cutting waste will yield a myriad of co-benefits, from boosting biodiversity and improving food systems to mitigating climate change. One from the nonprofit Global Alliance for Incinerator Alternatives says that a comprehensive zero-waste strategy that includes better material sorting, more recycling, and source reduction鈥攊n essence, producing fewer unnecessary things鈥攃ould reduce waste-sector greenhouse emissions by 84% globally.聽
Achieving all these benefits, however, will require more than proclamations from Paris. According to France鈥檚 Ministry of Ecological Transition, the national anti-waste plan is meant to filter down through the levels of government before ultimately manifesting at the local level. The national plan requires regions to develop their own sub-plans and asks small-scale waste management authorities to 鈥渆nable the implementation鈥� of France鈥檚 bigger-picture waste agenda.
However, the transformation France鈥檚 zero-waste advocates envisioned requires even more granular action鈥攆rom boutiques, supermarkets, and restaurants. Keep peeling back the layers, and you end up with individual people like Nieuwjaer, who must be nudged, incentivized, or told to change their behavior to accommodate waste reduction鈥攅ven if they鈥檙e not all as enthusiastic as she is. As the country鈥檚 2021 to 2027 action plan says, 鈥淩educing our waste requires everyone,鈥� suggesting that an all-encompassing culture shift will be needed to achieve the national government鈥檚 goals.
This is the task that many French cities and waste-collection authorities are now confronting鈥攈ow to change individual people鈥檚 behavior so that it conforms with France鈥檚 vision for waste reduction. Some of the most ambitious places have become incubators, notably Roubaix, whose voluntary, education-based approach has drawn international attention. Last year, the European Commission named Roubaix as one of the top 12 places in the European Union with the ,鈥� a term referring to systems that conserve resources and minimize waste generation.
There鈥檚 also the Nouvelle-Aquitaine region north of Bordeaux, where a regional waste-management authority called Smicval is experimenting with more structural interventions like moving garbage bins and charging people differently for waste collection. Pauline Debrabandere, a program manager for the nonprofit Zero Waste France, called Smicval one of the country鈥檚 鈥渂iggest pioneers.鈥�
The projects illustrate the need for complex behavior-change strategies that both educate people and alter the social and environmental contexts in which they make their decisions. And they hold lessons for communities across the globe looking to implement their waste-reduction programs. Debrabandere put it this way: While you need rules and incentives to 鈥渃reate the conditions鈥� for waste reduction, you also need to convey its benefits and ensure widespread participation. 鈥淵ou have to raise awareness.鈥�
When Alexandre Garcin dreamed up Roubaix Z茅ro D茅chet as a candidate for city councilor in 2014, it wasn鈥檛 so much sustainability that inspired his vision; it was cleanliness. Roubaix鈥檚 litter problem was top of mind for everyone that year, and Garcin鈥檚 big idea was to address it through waste reduction. Rather than cleaning up more and more trash off the city鈥檚 streets, why not produce less garbage in the first place?
This was easier said than done. Roubaix is a famously that belongs to the M茅tropole de Lille, a network of communities organized around the major city of Lille in northern France. This superstructure coordinates infrastructure that crosses town lines, such as public transit and waste management. According to Garcin, the m茅tropole wasn鈥檛 interested in funding and implementing his zero-waste initiatives. To cut down on waste generation, Roubaix would have to get creative鈥攂y asking residents to volunteer.
Once he was in office, Garcin mailed leaflets to Roubaix residents seeking 100 volunteers to participate in a free, yearlong pilot program that would teach them how to live waste free鈥攐r, at least, with less waste than usual. These familles z茅ro d茅chet would receive training and attend workshops on topics like making your own yogurt and cleaning with homemade products, to halve their waste by year鈥檚 end. Volunteers weren鈥檛 offered any direct financial incentives to participate鈥攐nly the promise of helping solve the litter problem and protecting the environment. Using a luggage scale鈥攁 鈥渞eally, really, really important鈥� part of the program, according to Garcin鈥攖hey would periodically weigh their weekly trash and report it back to the city.
The luggage scale forced people to recognize the impact, and literal weight, of their consumption choices, Garcin explained. 鈥淧hysically, you have the sense of how heavy it is.鈥�
The program Garcin designed exemplified what behavioral scientists call an 鈥渋nformation-based鈥� approach to change, which builds understanding and awareness through unambiguous instructions, forums, meetings, training, and feedback. Philipe Bujold, behavioral science manager for the international environmental nonprofit Rare, described this as a 鈥渢ell them鈥� strategy, in contrast with other tactics to induce behavior change, including through incentives (鈥減ay them鈥�) or rules and prohibitions (鈥渟top them鈥�). Josh Wright, executive director of the behavioral science consulting firm Ideas42, also lauded Roubaix Z茅ro D茅chet for creating an identity around zero waste and assigning families quantitative waste-reduction targets鈥攕trategies that have proven effective in other contexts.
Much of what Roubaix told residents to do was actually pretty straightforward鈥攆or example, 鈥淒on鈥檛 buy more food than you can eat.鈥� But that was the point. According to Garcin, it鈥檚 actually 鈥渘ot that difficult鈥� to halve a household鈥檚 waste production. Composting alone is enough to get you most of the way there, since organic waste makes up about of the average French family鈥檚 municipal waste by weight. Another third is glass and metal, a significant chunk of which can likely be kept out of the landfill through recycling, and 10% is plastic, much of which can be avoided by finding reusable alternatives to plastic grocery bags, cutlery, packaging, and other single-use items. According to the , half of all the plastic produced worldwide is designed to be used just once and then thrown away.
鈥淭he idea was to help everyone change his consumption at the place where he鈥檚 ready,鈥� Garcin explained, whether that meant eating fewer takeout meals or switching to homemade laundry detergent. Through these minor lifestyle changes, the earliest participants in Roubaix Z茅ro D茅chet鈥檚 family program saved an average of 1,000 euros per year, according to Garcin. Seventy percent of them cut their waste generation by , and one-quarter reduced it by more than 80%.
Of course, some participants embraced zero-waste more enthusiastically than others and therefore reaped even greater rewards. Nieuwjaer, for example, would eventually cut her landfill-bound waste by so much that nine months鈥� worth would fit on her kitchen scale. All told, Nieuwjaer says she saves about 3,000 euros a year because of her zero-waste habits.
One drawback of an information-based strategy for behavior change, however, is that it tends to have limited reach while working very well on a small slice of the population鈥攖he 鈥減ioneers,鈥� as Garcin called them, in this case referring to people who are exceptionally attentive to their health, environmental footprint, or personal finances. Since 2015, many of Roubaix Z茅ro D茅chet鈥檚 most enthusiastic participants have been those who were already interested in wasting less, even before they heard about the program.
Amber Ogborn, for example鈥攁n American who moved to Roubaix with her family in 2012鈥攕aid her decision to sign up as a famille z茅ro d茅chet in 2019 was influenced by a trip to a waste incinerator, where she saw garbage trucks unloading a 鈥渕ountain of trash鈥� to be burned. Ogborn is now all-in on zero waste, thanks in large part to the training she received from Roubaix Z茅ro D茅chet. In addition to other new habits, she now maintains three separate composting systems, including one dedicated to the cat litter and dog droppings that she was tired of having to throw in the trash.
鈥淚t鈥檚 kind of gross,鈥� Ogborn said. 鈥淏ut I thought, 鈥榊ou know what? This is one small thing that we could do.鈥欌��
Another die-hard participant is Liliane Otimi, who was already running a Roubaix-based environmental nonprofit called Lueur d鈥橢spoir鈥斺�済limmer of hope,鈥� in English鈥攚hen she enrolled her 10-person household in the city program in 2018. Otimi was passionate about climate change and resource conservation and wanted to embody more of her values in her daily life鈥攅specially after a trip back to Togo, the West African country where she grew up. In Lom茅, the capital, Otimi said she was 鈥渟hocked鈥� to see how quickly people went through plastic water bottles and littered them onto the street. Through Roubaix Z茅ro D茅chet, Otimi learned how to buy cleaning products in bulk, how to do weekly meal prep, and how to plan her grocery shopping so she only buys as much food as her family will be able to use.
鈥淚t鈥檚 beautiful to live in line with our values,鈥� said Michaela Barnett, a behavioral scientist and founder of KnoxFill, a startup focused on reducing waste. She acknowledged Roubaix Z茅ro D茅chet鈥檚 allure among a particular demographic.
However, it鈥檚 one thing to give 鈥減ioneers鈥� like Otimi and Ogborn the tools to live their best zero-waste lives and quite another to bring all of Roubaix鈥檚 residents into the movement. Not everyone will value resource conservation鈥攍et alone act on those values鈥攅ven if you tell them why they should. This is a key reason why behavioral scientists advocate for behavior-change strategies that are more complex than just 鈥渢ell them鈥� alone. 鈥淲e generally think of education as a necessary but not sufficient type of intervention,鈥� Wright said. (Incidentally, scientists used to think that an information deficit was the reason for climate inaction. Unfortunately, this has proven .)
The 800 families Roubaix has trained since 2015 likely represent the most easily convincible slice of the city鈥檚 population鈥攁n estimated 1.8% of its 100,000 residents, assuming an average family size of 2.3 people. It鈥檚 taken Roubaix nine years to reach this many people, and the rest of its residents will likely be harder to convert.聽
To be sure, there is more to Roubaix Z茅ro D茅chet than 鈥渢ell them,鈥� and the city is doing what it can to broaden its reach beyond those most inclined toward zero waste. For example, the program leans on social influences through advertisements, festivals, and community meetups, and spokespeople like Bea Johnson, the zero-waste social media influencer. (When she was invited to give a talk in Roubaix in 2015, the event was so popular that the city had to in order to accommodate more attendees.) Roubaix also promotes the stories of its most successful familles z茅ro d茅chet in local, regional, and national media outlets鈥攁 strategy that has drawn so much positive press that the city鈥檚 communications director said in 2016 that zero waste had become 鈥�.鈥�
What鈥檚 more, City Hall has brought zero-waste practices and education into all of Roubaix鈥檚 public schools and is trying to nurture a network of zero-waste merchants鈥攊ncluding restaurants, grocers, copy shops, and more鈥攖hat adhere to a set of best practices for waste reduction. The municipal government is also expanding a independent from the m茅tropole and is turning two buildings into zero-waste incubators鈥攅ssentially, hubs for small and growing businesses that are focused on waste reduction. One of the buildings, , already hosts a company that saves bicycles from being sent to the landfill.
Debrabandere, with Zero-Waste France, said Roubaix is remarkable for what it has accomplished with such limited means. Despite its tight municipal budget and lack of control over waste-collection services, she said, the city seems to make every decision with zero-waste in mind. It has even helped launch copycat programs in 26 nearby communities that, altogether, offer more than 300 free zero-waste workshops each year. 鈥淩oubaix does things at a level we wouldn鈥檛 expect them to do,鈥� Debrabandere told Grist.
Still, she wishes it had the authority to do more.
Some 500 miles south of Roubaix, in a small town called Saint-Denis-de-Pile in the French region of Nouvelle-Aquitaine, Cl茅mentine Derot shimmies into a neon-pink construction vest. She鈥檚 about to begin a tour of the headquarters of Smicval, the waste-management company that serves 210,000 people across 137 municipalities north of Bordeaux.
Waste reduction is 鈥渋n our DNA,鈥� Derot says, pointing out industrial-sized piles of compost and a warehouse for sorting plastics into bales of recyclable material. There鈥檚 also a donation center where residents can drop off toys, dishes, furniture, electronics, and other items they no longer need and take home other people鈥檚 items for free. At one end of the facility, above a chute where dump trucks offload unrecoverable waste, is a massive billboard showing trash building up at the nearby Lapouyade Landfill. 鈥淵our trash doesn鈥檛 disappear, it鈥檚 buried 15 kilometers from here,鈥� the billboard reads, apparently addressing Smicval鈥檚 workers since the chute isn鈥檛 public.
According to Derot, this reflects Smicval鈥檚 transformation from a company that simply picks up the trash to a more sophisticated waste-prevention and management service, in line with France鈥檚 2021 to 2027 action plan. She describes the status quo waste-management model as 鈥渢otally out of breath鈥濃�攊n need of a complete overhaul鈥攄ue to escalating concerns over the environment, as well as France鈥檚 sharply increasing . In 2019, it costs 18 euros to send a metric ton of waste to the landfill; in 2025, the cost will be 65 euros.
Like Roubaix Z茅ro D茅chet, Smicval envisions a 鈥渄rastic reduction鈥� in waste generation. But as a regional waste-management authority and not a small municipality, Smicval has a very different toolbox at its disposal. Where Roubaix has largely asked residents to opt in to waste reduction, Smicval can experiment with more systemic means, like changing the way trash is collected or the way people are charged for disposal services.
The goal, according to H茅l猫ne Boisseau, who is overseeing the deployment of Smicval鈥檚 new waste-management strategies, is to create an environment that is conducive to waste reduction. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 ask for people to become masters in zero waste,鈥� she said. Rather, 鈥淲e design the path鈥� and then guide people along it.
In behavioral science, this is referred to as 鈥渃ontextual change,鈥� where you alter the context in which people make decisions. Instead of merely asking people to do things differently, contextual changes make it easier or more convenient to perform the desired behavior鈥攑erhaps by presenting the existing options in a different, more strategic way. Take a middle school lunch line, for example. To get students to eat more vegetables and less pizza, you could either tell them all about the health benefits of broccoli and carrots鈥攐r you could move the vegetables to the front of the buffet, so they鈥檙e the first things hungry kids see. Many behavioral scientists prefer this type of strategy because it can change lots of people鈥檚 behavior all at once鈥攔ather than one by one. Plus, it鈥檚 better attuned to the of most decision-making.
Smicval鈥檚 two biggest strategies revolve around the way waste is collected and how people pay for it. Last October, Smicval began a yearslong process of transitioning away from door-to-door waste collection to a model in which people travel to a centralized location, likely within a few blocks鈥� distance, to drop off their trash. Large bins for trash and recycling鈥攐ne for every 150 residents鈥攚ill be openable using a special key card. Community compost bins will be distributed at a rate of one per 80 residents.
According to Boisseau, this model will encourage people to reduce waste simply because it鈥檚 inconvenient to haul heavy trash bags down the block. But the longer-term objective is to use those key cards to implement a pay-as-you-throw scheme, in which people pay for waste disposal based on the amount of trash they want to dispose of. Rather than funding Smicval through taxes, families would directly pay the company for different tiers of service, represented by the number of times their key cards will allow them to open the garbage receptacles. The more openings, the more expensive the service, so that people no longer think of waste collection as a limitless public service.
Boisseau compared it to the way people get their electricity bills. Because they can see the charge fluctuating based on their consumption habits, they鈥檒l be incentivized to waste less to pay less. 鈥淭he best way of making sure that people are very concerned with what they put in a bin or a container is to pay for it individually instead of [through] taxes,鈥� she said. Indeed, this principle has been put to use in thousands of towns worldwide, from Berkeley, California, to Austin, Texas, some of whose pay-as-you-throw policies have contributed to municipal solid waste reductions of . Waste experts say these policies are some of local governments鈥� 鈥�.鈥�
Smicval is still sorting out the details of the new system, which is unlikely to be fully adopted until at least 2027 or 2028. In the meantime, Smicval expects to see significant cost savings from fewer and shorter garbage truck routes, which it will use to fund some of its other waste-reduction projects: things like a pilot program for reusable diapers, political advocacy for a bottle deposit bill, a asking grocery stores to eliminate unnecessary plastic packaging, and a Roubaix-esque 鈥渮ero-waste cities鈥� program, in which Smicval distributes reusable cleaning products and informational pamphlets to the residents of participating municipalities.
Barnett, the behavioral scientist, applauded Smicval for using a broad range of strategies to encourage zero waste. 鈥淭hey are attacking this from different angles,鈥� she said.
Still, she and the other behavioral scientists Grist spoke with noted the risk of backfire. Although small hassles can be 鈥渜uite impactful鈥� in catalyzing behavior change, Wright, with Ideas42, said they can also go too far and encourage noncompliance. For something like centralized waste collection or a pay-as-you-throw system, this could mean people dumping their waste illegally or finding a work-around to open the trash receptacles more often than what they鈥檙e paying for. Wright said the program鈥檚 success will hinge on specific design considerations, like how direct invoicing is presented to customers.
If Smicval鈥檚 waste-reduction policies are particularly unpopular, Boisseau said it鈥檚 even possible that a conservative slate of candidates could be elected to the organization鈥檚 board and walk back or weaken its environmental initiatives. Already, Smicval has gained critics who say that centralized waste collection is too onerous. These include the mayor of Libourne, the largest city in Smicval鈥檚 territory, who at a meeting last year predicted that the organization鈥檚 strategy would turn Libourne into 鈥�,鈥� with people dumping garbage on the streets. If these critics were to mobilize the population against Smicval鈥檚 agenda, Boisseau said, 鈥淲e know they would fight hard.鈥�
A similar problem was unfolding on a national scale in December 2023, as France prepared to meet a January 1 deadline to equip all of its households with composting receptacles. Observers were afraid that the rollout would be a 鈥�,鈥� and that 鈥渁 lot of people wouldn鈥檛 want to take part.鈥�
Smicval is aware of the obstacles it faces and has been proactive in its efforts to preempt or overcome them. As it slowly transitions to centralized waste collection, for example, the organization is going city by city and saving Libourne for last, hoping that a successful rollout in some of its more supportive municipalities will assuage fears in Libourne. To avoid backlash, it has also consulted with individual citizens to hear their concerns, act on their feedback, and鈥攊n some cases鈥攄esign project proposals to be presented to Smicval鈥檚 board.
We try to work with citizens, rather than for them, Derot said. 鈥淭hey know what they need.鈥�
Despite the many overlapping benefits of zero waste, the movement sometimes gets a bad rap because of its focus on consumers, rather than manufacturers. Why ask individuals to shop in the bulk aisle or pay more for trash disposal if the petrochemical industry is just going to plastic production by 2050 anyway?
鈥淲e are kind of tired of everyone saying it鈥檚 on the citizens鈥� part鈥� to reduce waste, Debrabandere, with Zero Waste France, told Grist. She and other environmental advocates agree there鈥檚 an urgent need for waste-reduction policies that are even more aggressive than France鈥檚 current ones鈥攆or example, mandatory waste sorting in all restaurants, as well as more stringent requirements for the use of post-consumer recycled content and a faster phase-out of single-use plastics.
But the zero-waste policies of advocates鈥� dreams will require even more intensive behavior shifts than those that Roubaix and Smicval are trying to navigate. For example, imagine a world where France鈥攐r any developed country, for that matter鈥攂ans products from being sold in disposable containers. This would require people to deal with new enforcement infrastructure at the local level and to shop at new businesses that can accommodate reusable and refillable product systems, and lug around their own jars, jugs, and bottles.
There are many, many other routine habits that consumers will have to dispense with or fundamentally alter to , like buying plastic toothpaste tubes and getting takeout in throwaway packaging. The work that Roubaix and Smicval are doing in France is an early part of that process. By figuring out how best to engage their citizens in behavioral change, they are helping to create a smoother path toward the deeper, more radical changes that advocates hope are coming in the near future.
Barnett said there鈥檚 also value in the work Roubaix and Smicval are doing to understand zero-waste behavior in their respective regions. Behavioral scientists used to think humans could be characterized by a set of 鈥渦niversal truths,鈥� Barnett said. But that鈥檚 less the case now: 鈥淲e need to go in there and figure out more about the environmental context, the people that are there,鈥� she explained.
Meanwhile, as Roubaix and Smicval continue to try to win over new residents, they both have the benefit of an unusually enthusiastic army of supporters. Nieuwjaer isn鈥檛 the only zero-waste devotee who鈥檚 all too eager to proselytize about the simple joys of reducing waste. Chlo茅 Audubert, who has spent the past two years working at one of Smicval鈥檚 sorting centers, said she loves helping people sort and limit their d茅chets enfouis鈥攖heir waste destined for the landfill. And Otimi, the Roubaix resident who leads a family of 10, could barely find the words in English to express what Roubaix Z茅ro D茅chet has meant to her. 鈥淭his program changed my life,鈥� she finally said.
This story was co-published with and supported by The Heinrich B枚ll Foundation.
This story was (United States) and is republished within the program, supported by the ICFJ, .
|
Joseph Winters
is a reporter for Grist. He won a Solutions Journalism Network Award in 2023 for his coverage of French zero-waste initiatives.
|
Inspiration in Your Inbox
Sign up to receive email updates from 大象传媒
