Punishment for litterbugs should "hurt" a bit more

OK, not all of you. Just more than one would expect.

The most recent reminder came a couple weeks ago. Driving on the freeway in Bellingham, I spotted a guy in a minivan, without a single sign of hesitation or shame, open his window, chuck a drink cup out onto the off-ramp, and continue on his clueless way.

You don't see that as much as you used to. At least not in that brazen fashion. Outraged, I did what any normal hothead would do: blared my horn — a gesture that prompted what should have been a predictable response: the flipping of the bird in my general direction.

Nice.

Some of you, no doubt, have been similarly infuriated. At the instant of that bird flipping, be it literal or implied, you're looking for any form of retribution — short of an actual confrontation, which, with your luck, likely would leave you shot dead after chasing down a fully armed, short-fused wingnut who just happened to be a litterbug.

Fortunately, in this state, you can at least do something. Under the state anti-litter program, known by its is-this-really-the-best-they-could-come-up-with slogan, "Litter and It Will Hurt," citizens can rat out their porcine-inclined fellow travelers by reporting litter incidents by phone to 1-866-LITTER1, online at www.litter.wa.gov/c_hotline.html or by e-mailing litter1@ecy.wa.gov.

What happens then?

Not a ticket, of course. The state looks up the license number and sends the offender a terse letter saying he/she has been spotted trashing our state, and reminding the bonehead in question of the fines attached thereto. Just to recap, they're significant:

Getting caught tossing a food or beverage container, like the aforementioned loser, will cost you $103. Driving around with an unsecured load brings a minimum fine of $216. And tossing a lit cigarette — raise your hand if you haven't seen this happen in the past few months — carries a fine of $1,025.

The goal behind the 7-year-old "hurt" campaign is twofold, the Department of Ecology says. First, it's to show that the estimated 18 million pounds of trash discarded on roadways and other public places every year hurts society in a very real sense, through fire, pollution, property damage and, in the case of unsecured loads, even fatal injury. Second, and more important, it's to impress upon the average brain-dead litterbug that serious consequences exist.

Does it help?

It's hard to measure, although the state tries. A majority of people who've received the tsk-tsk letters claim it made them think twice about future behavior. And most citizen complainers appreciate at least having an outlet.

Still, when's the last time you saw a cop in Washington, a state that supposedly takes enormous pride in its green image, issue a ticket for littering?

They insist it does happen.

State troopers last year issued 3,916 tickets or warnings to litterbugs, although more than half of those were for uncovered or unsecured loads. The number has been fairly consistent over the past decade.

But one of the litter campaign's great successes, state officials say, is reminding people that, by necessity, curbing litter is everyone's job, as illustrated in this public-service ad available on YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIpu8rYRURg).

Alas, that message is about to fade from public consciousness. Because of Washington's ongoing budget crisis, the litter campaign is taking a $4.5 million hit. That wipes out pretty much all of the media budget, and will reduce numbers of paid Ecology Youth Corps litter pickers by about one-third.

Bottom line: It's up to the rest of us, more so than ever.

In spite of the cutbacks, the litter hotline, which has received nearly 104,000 calls since its 2002 inception, will remain. So by all means, keep ratting out those scofflaws.

But trust me: Turning some loser in doesn't pack nearly enough "hurt" to feel like vengeance has been achieved. How about doubling that basic $103 fine and adding a day's mandatory hard labor picking up trash?

If you want to make a guy really hurt, you should start by making him bend.