Monica Truax, who has been residing in her Portland, Oregon, home since 1992, finds her once-peaceful cul-de-sac altered since a bottle redemption center was established nearby a few years ago. The community, once a tight-knit neighborhood, now grapples with issues ranging from drug dealing to litter and late-night brawls. Truax notes that the neighborhood’s residents remain, continuing to raise their families amidst the changes.
Oregon’s pioneering “bottle bill,” a legislative measure designed to minimize littering by facilitating recycling, set the precedence for nine other states. This bill, sometimes deemed a financial lifeline for the homeless, is on the cusp of transformation. Lawmakers are mulling over amendments introducing time constraints to bottle redemption locations due to concerns about them becoming drug and homeless hotspots.
Truax reflects on the original law signed by former Oregon Governor Tom McCall over half a century ago, lamenting that the current situation starkly deviates from its intended purpose. The initiative, which required consumers to pay an initial 5-cent deposit for a refundable container, later expanded to include more container types and doubled the deposit to 10 cents. Today, Oregon boasts 27 dedicated return centers dotted across the state. Other states such as California, Connecticut, and Vermont, among others, followed Oregon’s lead.
With inflation not accounted for entirely, the refund from the deposit, initially intended as a modest incentive, has become crucial for many, particularly lower-income individuals.
However, the setup is not without its detractors. Retailers, particularly in Portland, express safety concerns over having to accept bottle returns during all business hours, noting potential threats from individuals turning in containers at night, driven by low-cost fentanyl sales. Jonathan Polonsky of the Plaid Pantry points to the danger employees face as they manage returns late at night.
Truax has witnessed firsthand the repercussions of increased homeless encampments in her area and the frequent incidents of public defecation. She describes the fentanyl situation as the tipping point in an already distressing scenario.
Despite the challenges, for individuals like Chris Grass, the redemption center near Truax’s residence offers vital financial support. Grass, currently unemployed, collects returns to purchase essentials like gas and coffee. The environmental benefit of such endeavors, he insists, shouldn’t be overlooked.
Oregon’s redemption program proudly reports an impressive return rate of around 87% of eligible containers in 2023, marking it the highest nationwide. With this in mind, a new bill proposes permitting retail stores to deny container returns post-8 p.m. In Portland, new “alternative” redemption locations could be established, potentially in the form of mobile sites, driven by non-profits to ease pressure on downtown retailers.
Retailers and organizations like the Ground Score Association, comprising canners and waste collectors, back the proposed legislative changes. They claim that the majority of people who redeem bottles are in dire need of the funds, countering assertions that the program exacerbates the fentanyl problem.
The current proposal, while receiving substantial Senate backing, still stirs debate over whether it adequately reformats the handling of unredeemed deposits. Unlike in other states where the program might be state-run, Oregon’s bottle scheme is privately managed by the beverage industry.
A 2020 state audit revealed the existence of over $30 million in unredeemed deposits by 2019, suggesting necessary revisions, such as directing some funds to support state environmental projects. Progressive groups have called for enhanced scrutiny of the program’s fund handling, urging another audit.
Now, the bill, which needs approval by late June, awaits consideration in the House after passing overwhelmingly in the Senate. As stakeholders await the Legislature’s decision, the future of Oregon’s bottle bill hangs in the balance, potentially heralding a new chapter for a decades-old initiative.