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This is the Green Lane Landfill, the 320-acre facility southwest of London, Ont., where º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøhas been sending almost all its garbage for more than a decade. Since 2011,Ìýevery baby wipe, potato chip bag, nail clipping or shiny wrapping paperÌýTorontonians have thrown in their trash has likely ended up here, buried among theÌý420,000 tonnes of waste carted annually to the site.

Toronto, it turns out, won’t be able to ignore Green Lane for much longer. The city estimates it will reach capacity by 2035, and has already begun the urgent work of figuring out where to put its trash once the site can’t take anymore. An update on its plans is expected as early as this month.Ìý

Although the landfill’s end date is a decade away, it could take at least that long to secure or build a facility to handle the city’s waste. And finding a solution won’t be easy: provincial regulations have made building new landfills in Ontario difficult, soÌýº£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍømay have to locate an existing dump to buy or expand, or take the controversial step of incinerating its garbage.

There’s also the possibility of expanding Green Lane, but that’s an option opposed by leaders of a nearby First Nation.

“We all want it shut down ASAP,” Chief Todd Cornelius of the Oneida Nation of the Thames told the Star.

No matter which route º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøchooses, its decision looks likely to raise concerns about environmental and health impacts, and risksÌý angering whichever community is unlucky enough to be the next recipient of the trash from Canada’s biggest city.

In other words, the future of Toronto’s garbage is messy.

One person’s trash...

Toronto’s dilemma is hardly unique. How a society disposes of its waste is a problem that has vexed humans since the earliest settlements. The challenge has spawned technological advances — pollution in the Tiber River prompted the Romans to build aqueductsÌý— and in cases where it hasn’t been addressed, sparked public health disasters (see the garbage-dwelling rats that helped spread the Black Death through 14th-century Europe and Asia).Ìý

In his 1997 novel “Underworld,” author Don DeLillo asserted that civilization itself arose in response to the complicated task of disposing of waste. “Civilization did not rise and flourish as men hammered out hunting scenes on bronze gates and whispered philosophy under the stars,” he wrote. “No, garbage rose first, inciting people to build a civilization in response.”Ìý

º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøhas been grappling with the problem since its incorporation in 1834, when one of its first bylaws mandated safe disposal of garbage in the wake of a cholera outbreak. Since that time, it has employed different disposal strategies, all of them temporary, many of them controversialÌý— and some of which have literally shaped the city. º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøis dotted with about 160 former dumps, many of which have been converted to parks.

When the city ran out of space within its borders, it sent its garbage elsewhere. For decades, it used the Keele Valley Landfill in Maple, but in 2002 that was shut down after a sustained campaign from local residents. º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøhoped to send its trash to an abandoned mine near Kirkland Lake, but after local outcry there as well it started trucking its waste to Michigan.

At one point, as many as 140 trucks a day crossed the border, but the deal was opposed by U.S. politicians and residentsÌý— particularly after a state trooper testified to discovering a “bleeding” garbage truck loaded with discarded blood products — andÌýit wasn’t renewed when it ran out in 2010.

Instead, º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøbought Green Lane, a local dump first commissioned in 1978, which it upgraded and has been using as its main landfill since 2011.

TorontoÌýstresses that Green Lane is a state-of-the-art facilityÌý— officials who work there bristle at the term “dump” — that features systems to trap and process leachate (the contaminated liquid that seeps from garbage), flare off landfill gas and manage stormwater.ÌýThe city contracts out operations, maintenance and construction at the facility to a private company under a nine-year, $187-million agreement that began in 2021.ÌýÌý

Once the trucks carrying Toronto’s trash enter its gates, they disappear between the grass-covered berms, before reappearing high up in the distance, looking like toys as they trundle along the top of huge grey-brown mounds of soil-covered trash. They roll to the edge of an open part of the landfill marked by fencing and flocks of wheeling birds, where bulldozers wait to compact the cargo into the mounds, which grow bigger with every load.

‘An urgent need’ for a solution

A 2023 city report noted that despite measures already taken to extend Green Lane’s life — such as increasing how much trash is compacted into each cubic metre of the site, contracting with other landfills to send some waste there, and promoting diversion programs such as recycling and organic collectionÌý— there was “an urgent need” to find other options before it reached capacity.

“It’s critical that the city continue planning for the future long-term disposal of Toronto’s garbage as building new waste disposal infrastructure can take more than 10 years to complete,” according to the report.Ìý

The city has been considering two broad options: the continued use of landfills, and the adoption of “energy-from-waste” technologies, better known as incineration. City staff have been holding public consultations on Toronto’s waste plans since last year,Ìýand while they told the Star in August thereÌýwas no timeline yet for a final recommendation, an update could go to council’s infrastructure committee later this month.Ìý

While it’s technically possible for º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøto build a new landfill, there’s no space within city limits. Building one elsewhere is a long shot, due to 2020 Ontario legislation that requires new landfills get consent from municipalities within 3.5 kilometres of the proposed site.

“Siting a new landfill in the province is near impossible now,” said Atif Durrani, a project director in Toronto’s solid waste management division.

That assessment has been echoed by the Association of Municipalities of Ontario and the industry group, both of which have warned the law has created a landfill capacity “crisis” in the province.Ìý

With a new landfill unlikely, º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøis considering partnering with another municipality to buy or expand an existing public facility, or purchasing a private one.

The city is also studying expanding Green Lane. While that might seem like the simplest solution, Durrani said none of the city’s choices are “easy options,” and staff will have to perform a thorough analysis of “the economic, social and environmental implications” of each alternative.Ìý

The other broad option is incineration, which º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøphased out in the 1980s. In public consultation material published in June, the city acknowledged that burning waste comes with downsides: the facilities are expensive to build and operate, it produces carbon dioxide, and people might be less willing to recycle if they know their garbage is being burned instead of spending eternity in a landfill.

But according to the presentation, incineration also has benefits: it can generate electricity, requires less land and would allow the city to process garbage closer to where it’s produced. Most controversially, the consultation material asserted that burning trash produces “less greenhouse gas emissions compared to landfilling.”Ìý

‘Misleading’ claims

Emily Alfred, a waste campaigner with the º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøEnvironmental Alliance (TEA), called claims that burning garbage is cleaner than landfills “really misleading,” and worried the waste consultation could skew public opinion toward incineration.Ìý

TEA says that claims about incineration’s sustainability are based on blanket assumptions that ignore important local factors, including systems like the one in place at Green Lane to capture methane, the main source of greenhouse gases from landfills. The city is upgrading the facility to convert methane to renewable natural gas, which can be used to displace fossil gas.

An that took into account local factors found incinerating Toronto’s waste at local facilities would release five to six times more climate-warming emissions than sending it to an upgraded landfill.

Burning garbage generates “about the same greenhouse gas emissions as burning coal,” Alfred told the Star.

“It’s wasteful. It’s toxic,” she added. “So we think the suggestion to burn Toronto’s garbage is basically a climate disaster.”

Durrani, the city project director, told the Star that the consultation material was intended to provide a high-level comparison, and a site-specific review could lead to a different conclusion.ÌýÌý

‘No easy solutions’

If º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍødoes opt for incineration, one of the places it could send its trash is the Emerald Energy from Waste facility in Brampton, which this spring won approval from the Ontario government for a major expansion, despite pushback from local politicians and advocates.Ìý

In , publicÌýhealth officials warned that emissions of chemicals from the expansionÌýcould increase the risk of negative health outcomes such as heart and lung problems.

They noted that populations living closest to the facility on Bramalea Road were more likely to be racialized, immigrants and low-income, and already at higher risk for health complications. The Peel Regional chair wrote to the Ministry of Environment, Conservation and Parks expressing concern about the expansion, and the ministry agreed to impose conditions around public reporting and using technology to reduce emissions.Ìý

Emerald’s general manager, Joe Lyng, confirmed the company has submitted an unsolicited proposal to º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøabout taking the city’s garbage. He told the Star last month º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøhad acknowledged the proposal but no talks had taken place.Ìý

Lyng said claims that incineration is as dirty as burning coal are “flat-out wrong.” He said that because burning garbage doesn’t require producing emissions like hauling trash to a landfill far from the city, avoids the methane produced by dumps and can be used to generate energy, it is “a low carbon alternative for waste management.” Studies as part of its expansion application process determined emissions from the redeveloped facility “would not result in a significant increase in health risks.”

Coun. Dianne Saxe (Ward 11, University-Rosedale), former environmental commissioner of Ontario, said incineration could be acceptable if the city imposes strict emissions standards to protect local communities from adverse health effects, such as those used in Europe.ÌýShe predicted º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøcould end up pursuing a mix of incineration and landfill, especially if it can’t find a new permanent dump before Green Lane is full.Ìý

Landfills and incineration are “both bad” options, Saxe said, but “there are no easy solutions here. And the problem is real and advancing upon us rapidly.”Ìý

Landfill leaves a bad smell

Chief Cornelius can’t see the Green Lane landfill from the his office, but when the wind blows in the right direction, he can’t avoid the smell. The elected chief of Oneida Nation of the Thames, a community with a population of more than 2,000 roughly three kilometres westÌýof Green Lane, says his community was never properly consulted on Toronto’s decision to locate a landfill in its backyard, and for the past 15 years it’s been living with the consequences.Ìý

That includes the offensive odour from the dump, which Cornelius says is so strong that on some days kids aren’t able to play outside. Locals say it’s particularly bad on hot or humid days, and they worry the landfill is making residents sick, harming local waterways and ruining property values.

Sometimes residents “go straight to the car and out of the territory so we don’t have to smell it,” Cornelius said.Ìý

If incineration has its critics, the experience of Green Lane’s neighbours is proof that landfills are hardly a perfect solution either. Since 2020, the Ontario Ministry of the Environment has recorded an average of approximately 175 complaints about Green Lane each year, the vast majority related to odours attributed to the facility.

The province charged the city under the Environmental Protection Act for allegedly discharging odour at Green Lane in November 2021. The city denied the charge.

In a deal reached with º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøin 2007, the Oneida Nation reportedly splits about $1 million in annual payments with the nearby Chippewas of the Thames as compensation for the effects of the landfill. Neither the nation nor the city confirmed that figure to the Star.

Cornelius said that agreement doesn’t make living next to Green Lane worth it, however, and while Oneida is asking to be consulted on the city’s natural gas project at the landfill that could provide revenue for the community, his constituents would oppose plans to extend the landfill’s life.

“My community is directing me to see if we can shut the landfill down,” he said.

‘Zero waste’ is the city’s dream

Durrani says º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøtakes complaints about Green Lane seriously, and has mitigation strategies in place, including gas collection, regularly covering the site to prevent smells from escaping, and frequent monitoring and consultation.

But for º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøto further reduce the harmful impacts of its waste, officials know the city needs to stop producing so much of it. Charlotte Ueta, acting director of policy, planning and outreach in the city’s solid waste management services, said the municipality has already made progress.

The city’s green bin program is “probably one of the most successful large-scale organics diversion programs in North America,” she said. It keptÌý120,000 tonnes of residential organic waste from landfills in 2024, material processed into compost and natural gas. The city is working to increase the capacity of one of its organics facilities to 140,000 tonnes a year.Ìý

Toronto’s blue bins also diverted more than 90,000 tonnes of residential recyclables last year, and while the province is shifting residential recycling to private producers, the municipality says its “long-standing” efforts have “laid the groundwork” for a sustainable program.

But the city hasn’tÌýmoved the needle much on its residential diversion rate. For the past decade, the portion of waste º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøcollects from residential homes and multi-residential buildings that is diverted from landfills has remained steady at between 52 and 54 per cent. Last year the city managed about 725,000 tonnes of waste those sources, about 375,000 of which was diverted.Ìý(The city also collects a smaller amount from non-residential sources such as schools, small businesses and public spaces.)

Advocates say the city could do more by improving diversion programs for textiles and construction waste, and ensuring more multi-residential buildings take part in organics collection.

Ueta said the city doesn’t have a hard diversion target, but has an “aspirational” goal of zero waste. As part of its updated waste strategy it hopes to find new ways to minimize garbage and encourage residents to “participate wherever they can” in the city’s efforts, she said.