I was reading about the Productivity Commission’s most recently commissioned inquiry into the circular economy, ordered by Jimbo, our esteemed Treasurer.  What the hell is the circular economy, I wondered?

Like all fine scholars, I went directly to Wikipedia and found this out. ‘Circular economy is an economic system that targets zero waste and pollution throughout materials lifecycles, from environment extraction to industrial transformation, and final consumers, applying to all involved ecosystems. Upon its lifetime end, materials return to either an industrial process or, in the case of a treated organic residual, safely back to the environment as in a natural regenerating cycle.’

It went on a bit longer, bringing in the terms: micro, meso, macro and something called a ‘sustainability nested concept’. I wasn’t really any the wiser apart from getting the drift that the circular economy is about being frugal and recycling stuff as much as possible.

My Nan and Pa knew a thing or two about the circular economy, although they wouldn’t have called it that. Having left school early and worked in a variety of jobs, they ended up as publicans on the Bellarine Peninsula in Victoria. Running a hotel was seen as a safe bet in life.

It was a demanding job, nonetheless.  The six-o’clock swill meant that the front bar closed relatively early, but there was still the Ladies Lounge and the dining room to attend to. Providing accommodation was also part of the deal.

My grandparents eventually retired to a seaside town and went about their circular economy lifestyle. They had a big veggie patch, fruit trees and chooks. Nan collected buttons, wrapping and brown paper and string for reuse. She always had a collection of socks in the darning basket to be mended. Lights would be turned off on leaving a room.

They would collect wood from the adjoining fields, and during mushroom season, they would be out gathering as many fungi as they could find. Pa had a fishing net and would encourage locals and visitors to drag it out from the shore in a semi-circle, often capturing a weird assortment of seafood. Nan was a dab hand at scaling, gutting and filleting the fish.

They would do a big shop once a fortnight in Geelong. There were 44-gallon drums in the kitchen containing flour, sugar and rolled oats. Nan was a very economic cook; Pa was an expert at washing up – no dishwasher for them. They were really living the sustainability nested concept but didn’t realise it. In fact, they just thought they were saving money or not spending money unnecessarily.

Somehow, I don’t think that’s what Jimbo has in mind. For him, the circular economy is about more government regulation, bossing people around – telling them what they can and can’t do. Initiatives taken to promote the circular economy will inevitably impose more costs on producers who then pass them onto consumers. We will hear new terms such as ‘stewardship’ and building a ‘regenerative and restorative economy’. Above all, we will need to eliminate the current linear system because linear systems are bad.

I’m sorry to be the bearer of sad news here, but the business called Circonomy has been placed in liquidation, notwithstanding that Officeworks had been a foundation investor. This company emerged from an outfit called the World’s Biggest Garage Sale. It turns out you can’t really make money from other people’s trash notwithstanding the virtues of the circular economy.

Presumably, it was a mere drop in the (financial) ocean for Officeworks. And the spokesperson waxed lyrically when talking of the demise of Circonomy. Evidently, Officeworks remains ‘committed to continuing to play an important role in the circular economy, finding opportunities to transform what may be seen as waste into valuable resources.

One Queensland politician also chimed in, declaring the CEO of Circonomy has ‘shown us all how to be part of the circular economy where nothing is wasted and where we can all lead more sustainable lives. The impact she has made could not be measured’.  Well, yes and no. The red ink in the financial statements rather measures the dollar impact.

I also recently enjoyed – OK, a strong word – a radio interview of some professor from RMIT in Melbourne, moaning on about the mountains of unusable and/or unwanted used clothing. According to this genius, we need a national solution to this problem, and we need to have national means of collecting this stuff and making further use of it.  Of course, there would be a need for government funding and regulation – the typical solutions of the left’s compassionistas.

I am obviously missing something here: I thought that’s what decentralised opportunity shops do – receiving and reselling used clothing (and other goods) – and, in doing so, make money for the causes they represent. How would the good woman professor’s national scheme cut across what looks like a perfectly functional arrangement?

Of course, the rubbish recycling scam is a well-established part of the circular economy. We must all have a separate recycling bin; in some places in the country, residents are required to have more than one recycling bin. Most people dutifully sort their rubbish ignorant of the fact that, apart from aluminium cans, there is basically no market for recycled items.

It would make more sense to have one bin and for all the rubbish to be dumped in well-managed landfills. One thing we are not short of is available land. These days, these landfills with their membrane linings also generate electricity through the release of methane that can be fed back to the grid.  That really does sound circular to me. Alternatively, we could burn the rubbish in giant incinerators like the Nordic countries do and generate electricity as well.

Don’t get me on to the ridiculous container deposit schemes. Consumers are hit with 10 cents per bottle/can, or whatever, on purchases but can drive the car with a collection of used bottles and cans in the boot to receive the cash back from government depots. The machinery does have an unfortunate habit of breaking down, but the lure of receiving that $2.20 is enough for some punters.

The Productivity Commission has evaluated these schemes and given them the firm thumbs down. They basically work to substitute recycling for receiving the deposit back. No net effect on littering or recycling is the impact, although the container deposit schemes are costly to run. Not that politically motivated state governments could care – it’s all about the political vibe and being seen to be doing something to promote the circular economy.