Sludge Watch ==> Fighting Our Flush Fixation
maureen.reilly at sympatico.ca
maureen.reilly at sympatico.ca
Sat Jun 3 11:36:00 EDT 2006
Sludgewatch Admin
We could start with public parks...already many wilderness parks host a
Clivus Multrum or other brand of composting toilet. Next...City parks.
Cottages. Country homes. Coastal and island homes.
Homes on rock. Mobile Homes. Trailor parks. Green subdivisions.
Lets get off the 'one big pipe' concept of waste disposal. After all we have
only been on that kick since about 1860....with theTous a L'Egout
(everything into the sewer) campaign. Before that it was only stormwater in
the Paris sewers
Lets get Flush-Free
........................................................
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/06/02/AR2006060201831_pf.html
Fighting Our Flush Fixation
Environmentalists Preach Another Kind of Toilet Training
By Elizabeth Williamson
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, June 3, 2006; B01
As worries about resource conservation and global warming spur growth in
environmentally sensitive construction, builders find that one room
separates the greens from the traditionalists.
The restroom.
Once the most generic of features in commercial buildings, toilets loom as
the earth-friendly builder's final frontier. Eco-friendly toilets --
low-flush, dual-flush or no-flush compost -- conserve water and cut
pollution, a double benefit that few other green features can claim.
But try to find one of these toilets. As more builders earn plaudits and
save money with geothermal heating and bicycle parking, they remain more
likely to plant roof gardens than to install green toilets.
Plumbers say waterless urinals, which use a replaceable cartridge, are
unsanitary because they don't wash waste away. Municipalities resist making
the changes to plumbing systems that compost toilets require. (In a compost
toilet, the high-tech version of an outhouse, accumulated waste decomposes
into liquid fertilizer and organic matter.) Users complain that
high-efficiency toilets, which use less water than traditional models,
require two flushes to do the job.
Behind such objections stands this truth: America remains a flush-oriented
society, and the more powerful the flush, the better.
"It was a morale issue," Anja S. Caldwell, green building chief for the
Montgomery County public school system, said of initial resistance to the 50
waterless urinals introduced over the past year. "People thought that by
taking the flush away, you're taking an entitlement."
Six years after the U.S. Green Building Council established standards
governing construction with low environmental impact, buildings certified by
the builders' group total 6 percent of construction. The trend is growing.
Fifteen states and 49 cities -- including Maryland, Virginia and the
District -- have some green building legislation or incentives.
About a dozen large commercial buildings in the metro area comply with green
standards, and "hundreds" more are being built, said Taryn Holowka,
spokeswoman for the Washington-based council. The National Geographic
Society headquarters in the District, several Maryland office towers and
schools, and three Pentagon buildings in Northern Virginia meet the
council's standards. The new Nationals baseball stadium is intended to be a
green project.
However, most of these buildings retain traditional plumbing. "We're getting
more questions about these [green] toilets and seeing more interest in
them," Holowka said. But for now, "they're a little bit different."
The Montgomery County public school system had its first encounter with
flushlessness last year, installing 18 waterless urinals at Martin Luther
King Middle School in Germantown.
Caldwell, an architect who grew up with low-flush plumbing in her native
Germany, surveyed users. "Two to one, they liked the flushless," she said.
Those who didn't "were uncomfortable, and understandably so, with not
flushing," she said. "For years we've been telling our kids to flush, and
now we're telling them not to."
The flush toilet has long been a symbol of modern society. But water
shortages and sewage-related pollution have caused many societies to rethink
that symbolism. In Europe, water-saving toilets have been standard for
decades. But not until 1994 did U.S. federal law require 1.6-gallon toilets,
cutting the water used each flush by more than half.
In a nation where flush sizes have dwindled from a World War II-era high of
seven gallons, the law fueled a backlash. Reports soon surfaced of an
underground trade in big-flush commodes from across the Mexican and Canadian
borders. U.S. Rep. Joe Knollenberg (R-Mich.), backed by Americans who wanted
government to stay out of their bathrooms, sponsored a failed effort a few
years later to repeal the 1994 law.
The Tower Cos. of Bethesda started building green a decade ago, partner
Jeffrey Abramson said, because workers in such buildings are "healthier,
happier, more successful."
When the company's latest office tower, 2000 Tower Oaks Blvd. in Rockville,
opens in 2008, it will boast full daylight views and triple-filtered air.
Doors will be made of chopped, pressed straw. The landscaping conserves
water.
Such innovations sailed into the plans. Then came a debate over restroom
fixtures that culminated in what Abramson calls the "toilet summit."
In a wood-paneled conference room, 30 executives, architects and engineers
gathered around a model of the Caroma Caravelle 305 High Performance Dual
Flush. (Dual flush units let users choose what size flush they need.)
As they watched, the Caroma salesman tossed four tennis balls into the
imported Australian toilet and flushed them all down, using less than a
gallon of water. He was battling "the perception that you've got to flush
these toilets twice to get a good flush," senior project manager David
Borchardt said.
The flushes succeeded, but the toilet did not. Developers chose waterless
urinals and low-flow faucets but no Caroma, which could have saved thousands
of gallons of water a year. Abramson said the model failed because it lacked
a hygienic, hands-free sensor.
Borchardt had another theory: "Americans just aren't used to these yet."
Chuck Foster stood in the basement of the Chesapeake Bay Foundation's
headquarters in Annapolis, next to a playhouse-size metal tank. Flipping
open its lid, the foundation's chief of staff revealed nearly finished
compost.
When the foundation built its headquarters five years ago, it installed 12
Swedish compost toilets that cost $30,000 more to install than conventional
toilets but save $2,100 a year on water and sewage. The compost enriches the
building's natural landscaping.
"These are becoming more accepted," Foster said, "But this was a rough one
even for us to pull off."
The toilets are white and sleek. The compost pile lies about 10 feet beneath
a plastic chute. Near each toilet stands a pail of wood chips, with a sign
inviting people to toss in a handful after each use.
That's not really necessary, Foster said. It's for people, he said, "who
want to flush."
"They want some kind of closure."
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