Bins, Bags, and Brass Necks
Once upon a time, in the rolling hills of Shropshire, garden waste was collected for free. Grass clippings, hedge trimmings, and the odd forlorn courgette plant went off without fuss. Then, in a stroke of genius that only local government could dream up, residents were told: *“That’ll be £56, please. Per bin. Per year. Because austerity, because budgets, because reasons.”*
But fear not, the cavalry arrived: the Liberal Democrats, storming into Shrewsbury’s Guildhall in May with promises (or was it hints, or was it vague noises?) that the garden-waste charge would be… reviewed. “Reviewed” being one of those wonderful political words that means everything and nothing. It sounds firm, but it’s actually slipperier than an eel in a bucket of compost.
And reviewed it has been — the political equivalent of staring at the rain and declaring it wet. Or meaning it was glanced at, ignored, and filed under ‘never mind.’
Expenses, Allowances, and Fairy Tales
Meanwhile, councillors — those tireless public servants who nobly “forego personal gain” in the name of democracy — have just awarded themselves a 3.6% increase in expenses and allowances. That’s right: while your wheelie bin is now a coin-operated luxury item, the councillor’s mileage and coffee fund is nicely topped up.
Imagine it: bins emptied, composters happy, residents not having to raid the piggy bank to dispose of hedge cuttings — all paid for by councillors who genuinely *shared the pain*.
Instead, we have the Lib Dems’ magic word: *review*. And residents hear that and think it means “abolish the charge.” After all, in the middle of a cost-of-living crunch, what else could “review” possibly suggest? But no. It means exactly what politicians always intend it to mean: kick the can down the road until the voters forget.
Reality Check
Let’s be brutally clear. If the Lib Dems had intended to scrap the garden-waste tax, they should have said so. Instead, they gave the impression they might — which is almost as good for campaigning as actually doing it, and a lot cheaper. Disingenuous? You bet.
And now, as councillors trouser their extra 3.6%, you, dear resident, are still shelling out for the privilege of having your grass cuttings taken away. The cost of living crisis, it seems, is for the governed, not the governors.
Meanwhile, across Shropshire, over £21 million in council tax remains uncollected. Yes, £21 million sits outstanding while households are squeezed for £56 a bin. If fairness really mattered, they’d recover the debts before charging families to get rid of their hedge clippings. But no — it’s easier to milk the law-abiding than chase the arrears.
While Shropshire residents now fork over £56 a bin, in neighbouring Telford & Wrekin they haven’t introduced a charge. The council leader publicly promised the free fortnightly green-waste collection would continue. That contrast alone begs the question: was the £56 in Shropshire inevitable or a political choice?
The Big Finish
So the next time you lug your green bin to the kerb, remember: you’re not just paying for a collection. You’re funding the illusion of “review,” the councillor sandwich fund, and the oldest trick in the local-government book — promising the earth, delivering the invoice.
Free garden-waste collections could have been a symbol of solidarity in tough times. Instead, Shropshire has chosen the usual option: the people pay, the councillors play.
Shropshire’s newest organised crime gang spotted outside Shrewsbury Guildhall.
Meanwhile, council officers rule — and councillors bow in acquiescence, despite the entreaties of Cabinet Members Freedom of Information requests drift unanswered, like truth adrift in a sea of bureaucracy.
The Alternative Council 