Article – I’ve spent the past week shadowing Carlos Mendoza, a fixture in Toronto’s Kensington Market neighborhood for over a decade. At 5:30 AM, when most of us hit snooze, Carlos begins his daily ritual of collecting refundable bottles and cans across the city’s west end.
“The new deposit system has changed everything,” Carlos tells me as we navigate dimly lit alleyways behind restaurants and bars. “What used to bring me $40-50 a day now barely hits $25 some days.”
Ontario’s expanded bottle deposit program, implemented last February, initially promised environmental benefits and income opportunities for the city’s informal recycling workforce. The reality has proven more complex for the estimated 800-1,200 bottle collectors operating throughout Toronto.
The program expanded the 10-cent deposit to include wine, spirit bottles and non-alcoholic beverage containers. Environmental advocates celebrated the policy as a win, with the Toronto Environmental Alliance reporting a 23% increase in glass recycling rates since implementation.
But for collectors like Carlos, the mathematics don’t add up favorably. More competition has emerged as new collectors enter the scene, attracted by the expanded deposit values. Meanwhile, the redemption process has become increasingly bureaucratic.
“Before, I knew exactly where to go,” Carlos explains, adjusting his worn blue cart now laden with mixed containers. “Now some places only take certain types, and I spend more time traveling between redemption centers.”
David Chen, owner of Perola Supermarket in Kensington Market, has witnessed this shift firsthand. “Many of these collectors are part of our community fabric,” Chen says, “They’re environmental contributors who don’t get recognized as such.”
The City of Toronto’s Solid Waste Management Services estimates that informal collectors divert approximately 4.5 million containers annually from landfills. This represents nearly $450,000 in deposit value circulating through what experts call the “shadow recycling economy.”
Stephanie Martin, associate professor at York University studying urban informal economies, notes this policy highlights broader issues. “We create environmental policies without considering their social impacts, particularly on vulnerable populations relying on these materials as income sources.”
For Carlos, who immigrated from El Salvador in 2007, bottle collecting supplements his part-time janitorial work. “I’ve put two children through college with these bottles,” he says proudly, showing me photos of his daughter’s nursing school graduation.
The new system has introduced other challenges. Redemption centers now require sorting by material type and manufacturer, creating additional unpaid labor. Some refuse containers with damaged barcodes, leaving collectors without compensation for their efforts.
Toronto Councillor Mike Layton acknowledges these concerns. “We’re evaluating the program’s social equity aspects,” he explained in a phone interview. “Environmental goals and social welfare shouldn’t be opposing forces.”
Some community organizations are stepping in to bridge these gaps. The Kensington Market Community Land Trust recently launched a pilot program providing collectors with better equipment and direct connections to redemption centers, reducing travel time.
“We’re seeing some collectors’ daily earnings drop by nearly 40% because of increased competition and logistical hurdles,” says Dominique Russell, the Trust’s executive director. “These are our neighborhood environmental stewards.”
As dawn breaks over Spadina Avenue, Carlos and I reach a redemption center where a line has already formed. The collectors exchange familiar nods – members of an invisible workforce most Torontonians never notice.
While waiting, Carlos shows me a carefully folded newspaper clipping announcing the expanded deposit program, with promises of environmental benefits and economic opportunities. The headline’s optimism contrasts sharply with the reality I’ve witnessed on Toronto’s streets.
“I’m not against helping the environment,” Carlos emphasizes. “But maybe they could help us help them? A direct collection program that pays us fairly would make sense for everyone.”
The experience leaves me wondering: As Toronto pursues laudable environmental goals, are we creating unintended consequences for those who have long been informal partners in our sustainability efforts? The answer, like Carlos’ daily route through our city, remains complicated and unfinished.
