Business can't afford it. Government can't enforce it. But this month a new law regulating the hazardous wastes of small companies goes into effect anyway.
YOU MAY REMEMBER BACK IN THE 1970s when the Clean Air Act and the Clean Water Act went into effect -- all that confusion and paperwork and angst in corporate boardrooms all across America. Well, you ain't seen nothing yet.
Meet the Resource Conservation and Recovery Act, better known as RCRA (Reck-Rah). What the Clean Air Act did for smog, and the Clean Water Act did for fetid rivers, RCRA is supposed to do for contaminated drinking water.
Passed by Congress in 1976, RCRA was fashioned to crack down on the 15,000 largest generators of hazardous waste in the country, which were required to keep exacting records of their waste materials from the time they were produced to the time they were disposed of at a licensed wastemanagement facility. These newly regulated companies were the source of nearly all of the 250 million metric tons of hazardous waste produced in the country every year. And almost everyone thought the regulations were a good idea.
Soon, however, evidence began to gather that even small amounts of hazardous waste, if improperly disposed of, could cause long-term environmental damage. Public fears of toxic contamination and environmental cancer increased, and pressure mounted to do something more. So in 1984, the federal government broadened its RCRA coverage, to companies putting out as little as 220 pounds of toxic waste a month -- about half of a 55-gallon drum. The new regulations take effect this month.
Mind you, this is not just any federal government -- this is Ronald Reagan's federal government.The President came to Washington saying he never met a regulation he really liked, and promised to get government off industry's back. But now his conservative, probusiness, deregulation-minded Administration finds itself in the awkward position of extending a burdensome new law to as many as 175,000 additional businesses, most of them small. Civil fines can be as high as $25,000 a day for each violation. For willful (criminal) violations, the fines double, and executives can go to jail.
Compliance won't be easy -- or cheap. Nationwide, there are a shrinking number of disposal sites licensed to handle hazardous waste even as demand increases (see box, "Where Will All That Gunk Go?" page 68). That situation is forcing prices up. And it has meant that many companies must ship their waste over long distances, often at astronomical cost. To varying degrees, compliance will also increase business costs for day-to-day operations. And insurance costs and legal fees are likely to ise as well.
Unfortunately, the burden of enforcing the new law comes at a time when federal deficits are squeezing regulatory budgets. The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency says it will be relying on state environmental agencies to monitor compliance. But most state agencies lack the money and the manpower to give the new RCRA regulations any teeth.
All in all, RCRA has all the makings of a political and bureaucratic disaster. "It's going to be a nightmore," predicts Ernie Neal, director of state government affairs at Browning-Ferris Industries Inc., one of the largest international waste-disposal firms.
To get an idea of how the RCRA program might work, or not work, nationwide, we traveled to Louisiana, where the highest cancer death rates in the country make hazardous waste disposal a matter of general concern. Like a handful of other states, Louisiana already regulates small generators of hazardous waste, so its businesses have had a chance to assess the costs and hassles of compliance -- or the risks of ignoring the law. Louisiana officials, as well, have already learned of the difficulties in enforcing a tough environmental law that requires keeping tabs on so many small firms.
The first obvious problem with any new hazardous waste-disposal law is that many businesses don't even know about it, or know whether it affects them. To find out, a manager must wade through a document as thick as a city telephone book and written in language only a lawyer could love. Already, consultants have appeared on the scene to translate the law into plain English and advise businesses on compliance.
As a general rule, a substance is classified as hazardous if it is ignitable, reactive, corrosive, or toxic, or if it's included on the EPA's list of 400 chemical villains. Among the general categories of businesses covered are auto dealerships, service stations, and body shops, which have to be careful in disposing of lead-acid batteries, paint thinners, paint wastes, and spent solvents. Drycleaning plants are another large category. Metal manufacturers, paper mills, pesticide companies, wood refinishers, and even supermarkets all have to account for their leavings (supermarkets because of outdated medicines they throw away). Even high school chemistry labs are suspect.
Until recently, these outfits had gotten rid of their waste rather cheaply. "I think most of them put it straight into their dumpsters, or down the drain like any other liquid" says Robert Axelrad, an EPA hazardous waste official in Washington. Weed control out in back of the plant was another popular use.
Tom Simmons can't remember what he used to do with most of the hazardous wastes generated by his shop. Simmons is the director of parts and services at Coleman Olsdmobile Inc., the largest automobile dealership in Baton Rouge. On an average day, his 24 mechanics service about 120 cars -- doing everything from engine transplants to fixing squeaky doors. But it was only last year, six years after the Louisiana hazardous waste law took effect, that Coleman, through a business associate, learned that it existed and that his shop was in violation.
"State officials are putting out all these rules," he complains, "but they never get with the people affected and tell us what we're supposed to do." As part of the contract with his supplier, Simmons had been paying to have somebody haul away a solvent known as Naptha that his mechanics use in washing the grease from engine parts. As for paint thinner and anything else that may be hazardous -- well, who knows?
After his discovery, Simmons contacted the Louisiana Department of Environmental Quality, got an "EPA generator identification number," and, as he was instructed, began storing his paint thinner waste in 55-gallon drums while searching for a firm that could haul the drums away. A Chevrolet dealer across town with 10 drums recently paid about $4,000 to have them disposed of by Rollins Environmental Services Inc., which runs a big waste-management plant in Baton Rouge. Shocked by the price, Simmons called around until he stumbled upon Hazco International Inc., a Virginia environmental services company specializing in the automotive industry. Hazco offered a flat $650-a-year fee to take care of all Coleman's spent thinner.
