Japan Times Series May 3-7

[John Visher <visherjc@crisscross.com>]

http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/news5-99/news5-3.html

(May 3)

     Dioxin: Flawed report stirred policymakers' interest

          First in a series

          By MICK CORLISS
          Staff writer

          It tops the U.N. Environment Program's most-wanted list. It is
a persistent, poisonous chemical with problems transcending borders.

          Dioxin is the name for a family of chemicals with a similar
basic structure and varying toxicities, the most toxic of which,
2,3,7,8-TCDD, is
          the most powerful poison known to man. It has been shown to
cause cancer, sexual irregularities and impair development in lab
animals
          and is suspected of wreaking the same havoc on humans.

          Dioxin exists and persists in low levels nearly everywhere but
has been found in relatively high levels in the air in Japan --
especially near
          big cities.

          Mostly an unintended byproduct of waste incineration and
certain industrial processes, industrial accidents involving dioxin have
plagued
          many countries, and many have taken steps to stem dioxin
creation and emission.

          Now Japan has taken notice.

          A TV Asahi news report on Feb. 1 alleged that high levels of
dioxin -- .64 to 3.8 picograms -- had been found in "leafy vegetables"
          grown near Tokorozawa, Saitama Prefecture. There was an
implication that spinach was among the leafy vegetables.

          Demand for locally grown agricultural goods dropped
drastically after the show's airing, forcing politicians to react and
the central and
          prefectural governments to conduct emergency surveys of the
Tokorozawa area.

          The news report was later clarified Feb. 9 when the
broadcaster said the levels found in spinach were between .63 and .75.

          But the original broadcast had already set off a chain
reaction. Prime Minister Keizo Obuchi established a council of 13
Cabinet ministers
          on Feb. 24 to shape the nation's dioxin policies. It marked
the first time dioxin had been addressed at such a high level.

          And the collaborative survey of dioxin contamination in and
around Tokorozawa by the Environment Agency and the ministries of Health

          and Welfare and Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries marked the
first time several ministries and agencies jointly took part in an
          area-specific dioxin contamination study.

          The results of the study, which focused on spinach, tea, air,
water and farm soil in and around Tokorozawa, were released March 25 and

          showed levels within the range of prior studies and "not high
enough to impact human health."

          Nonetheless, the episode fanned fears of the chemical,
highlighted the nation's lagging efforts to curb it and sent the
government into
          full-fledged policymaking mode.

          Japan first addressed dioxin in 1996, when the Health Ministry
finally set a tolerable daily intake limit -- the amount that can
ostensibly be
          ingested without harm to one's health -- at 10 picograms per
kilogram of body weight per day. A picogram is a trillionth of a gram.

          "This (timing) was a little later than that in other
countries," said dioxin expert Hideaki Miyata, a professor of
pharmacology at Osaka's
          Setsunan University. "Other nations established TDIs in the
late 1980s or early 1990s."

          Miyata attributes Japan's tardiness to the nation's high
dependence on incinerators and lack of appreciation for the health
threat they pose
          to humans.

          But the government now seems to be looking to make up for lost
time.

          In its third meeting at the end of March, the Cabinet-level
council approved guidelines to steer national dioxin policy. They set an

          ambitious target of reducing dioxin emissions by nearly 90
percent compared with 1997 levels by 2002.

          They also commit the government to including coplanar
polychlorinated biphenyls (coplanar PCBs) -- a chemical closely related
to dioxin
          -- and re-evaluating the TDI figure by the end of June.

          Some sources within the ruling Liberal Democratic Party,
however, say the re-evaluation may come by late this month.

          Both the Health Ministry's TDI of 10 picograms and the
Environment Agency's tolerance level of 5 picograms are to be
synchronized and
          reduced.

          In light of increasing evidence that dioxin is more than a
carcinogen and that it may affect the immune system and hormone
functions of
          people in lower doses and in ways unimaginable until a few
years ago, the World Health Organization last May scaled down its TDI to
a
          range of 1 to 4 picograms -- 1 being the ultimate goal and 4
the acceptable upper limit.

          Domestically, two opposition parties have already drafted
legislation to reduce dioxin and are currently in talks with the LDP,
which has
          been hesitant to embrace some of the wording in the bills.

          The LDP opposes giving citizens the right to request
government dioxin surveys, the setting of dioxin food standards and a
proposed
          compensation system because of what it calls "the
difficulties" involved.

          "TDI is going to be the biggest sticking point" in seeking
agreement with the LDP, predicted Masahiro Tabata, head of New Komeito's

          environmental policy council. Earlier this year, his party
submitted a bill to the Upper House to create a law to regulate dioxin.

          Preceding the most recent Tokorozawa dioxin hullabaloo and the
central and local government's joint study, the Democratic Party of
          Japan, the largest opposition group, submitted its own bill to
the Upper House.

          "Essentially, we feel that dioxin is such a toxic chemical
that the government needs to address it specifically," Tabata said.

          When the government establishes a new TDI it will become the
foundation for setting tolerable levels in the air, water, soil and
sediment.
          The number must be realistic, but at the same time stringent
enough to drive change.

          Until now, the government has addressed dioxin in a fragmented
way by relying on established laws, such as the Air Pollution Control
          Law and Water Pollution Prevention Law, Tabata said. Under the
bills proposed by New Komeito, dioxin would be addressed in one
          law, he said.

          Both The DPJ and New Komeito bills propose dropping the TDI of
dioxin to 1 picogram and setting environmental standards to achieve
          this stringent level.

          Experts estimate that the average person living in urban areas
ingests around 2.5 to 3.72 picograms of dioxin per day, with 70 percent
to
          90 percent of the figure coming from fish, meat, eggs and
dairy products.

          But the LDP nixed the 1 picogram figure, and instead the three
parties are poised to agree on the wording of "4 picograms or less," and

          will leave the setting of a precise figure up to the
Environment Agency and the Health Ministry.

          Differences still remain, and the three parties have continued
to work behind closed doors to iron them out. If all goes well, an
amended
          version of New Komeito's bill may be approved during the
current Diet session.

          However, some LDP officials warn against excessive
expectations. "Passage during this session is possible, but not
probable," said
          Nobuhiko Igarashi, a secretary for Tsuneo Suzuki, director of
the LDP's Policy Research Council's environment division.

          These differences will likely be resolved, but probably not
before June 17, the end of the regular Diet session, he said.

          If passed, the legislation would place Japan near the head of
the class in terms of dioxin regulation among advanced countries. But
          whether the nation can deliver on realizing major dioxin
reductions remains to be seen.
http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/news5-99/news5-4.html

(May 4)

     Dioxin: Proximity to Tokyo dooms Tokorozawa

          Second in a series
          By MICK CORLISS
          Staff writer

          TOKOROZAWA, Saitama Pref. -- Eiko Kotani's backyard is known
the nation over for its garbage. A resident of Tokorozawa's
          Kunugiyama district for nearly two decades, she has spent the
last nine years watching the forest behind her home become a haven for
          waste incinerators.

          Today, the area goes by the colorful moniker "industrial waste
Ginza."

          It was in November 1991 when rancid smoke first assaulted
Kotani and sent her into the forest behind her house to find its source.
She
          was shocked to find a smoldering pile of garbage in an open
space concealed by trees a few hundred meters from her home. This was
          one of the first incinerators in Kunugiyama.

          The area, a scraggly belt of forest at the junction of four
municipalities -- Miyoshi, Sayama, Kawagoe and Tokorozawa -- is simply
called
          Kunugiyama by locals and has gained dubious distinction as one
of, if not the most, concentrated waste incinerator sites in Japan.

          Despite its appearance, Kunugiyama is not a natural forest.
This once naked plain was planted by locals at the request of the
resident
          feudal lord over 300 years ago to prevent topsoil erosion.
Historically, this wall of trees has supplied a wind block as well as a
local
          source of fuel and fertilizer. The forest helped create and
sustain a fertile environment that in turn helps sustain one of the
nation's top
          tea-producing areas.

          "Before 1991, there were only one or two waste incinerators in
the area," said Susumu Yokoyama, a farmer who produces mostly
          organic produce and uses leaves from the forest as fertilizer.

          But that changed at the beginning of this decade. Incinerators
began to pop up in and around the woods in the area, then soon became
          pervasive, he said.

          Until recently, nearly 60 of the prefecture's 277 incinerators
operated in the area of the four municipalities. The smokestacks of
roughly 16
          of these pierce the forest canopy within a 500-meter radius of
Kunugiyama.

          As the number of incinerators billowing black clouds
increased, so did the residents' unease. This was heightened when
results from an
          independent study released in December 1995 found high dioxin
levels in the soil and ash in Kunugiyama and the surrounding area,
          including Koku Koen -- a popular park in central Tokorozawa.

          Concern deepened when half of the 30 air samples taken by the
municipalities in the area found dioxin concentrations exceeding the
          national standard of 0.8 picograms per cubic meter. A picogram
is one-trillionth of a gram. Six of the sites where the samples were
taken
          were schools.

          Further investigation and calculation by citizens using
government statistics have found infant mortality rates higher than the
prefectural
          average in municipalities with higher concentrations of
incinerators.

          But why this concentration of incinerators around Tokorozawa?

          Both citizens and government officials agree that more than
one factor is involved.

          The largest factor at play is probably the area's proximity to
Tokyo.

          Less than the ideal neighbor, the metropolis exports its waste
to surrounding areas to be processed before it is shuttled to the oceans
or
          the mountains for final disposal. Citizens estimate that more
than 80 percent of the garbage sent to Saitama Prefecture for processing

          originates in Tokyo.

          And just one exit from Tokyo on the Kanetsu Expressway, the
Tokorozawa interchange sits on an ideal location for waste disposal
          companies. Kunugiyama has the misfortune to lie a mere 15
minutes by car from this highway exit.

          "We think the reason incinerators sprang up around Kunugiyama
from around 1992 is because that is the period when Chiba Prefecture
          began to cut the amount of industrial waste it allows in from
other prefectures by introducing a prior consultation system," said
Toshihiko
          Maeda, the leader of a local citizens' group.

          It also makes economic sense for waste disposal companies,
because Saitama Prefecture is on the way to final disposal sites,
according to
          Maeda.

          "Tokorozawa and Kunugiyama are only 20 or 30 km from Tokyo,
and from here companies can easily take the garbage to Nagano,
          Gunma, Fukushima and Aomori prefectures or the Hokuriku
region. It is very convenient geographically for (waste disposal)
companies,
          and it allows them to make more money since most of them get
paid per trip."

          In addition to its "prime" location, the Kunugiyama area
straddles four municipalities and does not fall under the jurisdiction
of any one
          administrative entity. This makes it difficult for citizens to
air their complaints and concerns toward any one municipality or
individual.

          To field the citizens' criticism and concerns, like those of
Maeda, the prefectural government set up a unit to handle dioxin policy
in April
          1998.

          "Until 1997, the dioxin issue was addressed mainly from the
position of waste and garbage incineration," said Ikuo Sakurai, a member
of
          the prefecture's dioxin policy team.

          "From 1997, the problem really became more evident, and we
realized that we needed to conduct surveys of the soil, air and (dioxin)

          levels in blood and human ingestion."

          In addition, Saitama Prefecture, one of the prefectures
without a prior consultation system to limit the shipping of garbage
from other
          areas, plans to introduce one this fall, he added.

          After a February news report warning of high levels of dioxin
contamination in local produce that temporarily made spinach produced by

          farmers such as Yokoyama almost worthless, the prefecture
urged incinerator operators to voluntarily shut down on Sundays and
          holidays.

          But this has not visibly reduced the amount of waste being
burned, which reached almost 500 tons per day in 1998, according to
          prefectural statistics obtained by locals.

          While the air may clear on Sundays, this has only forced
incinerators to change their hours of operation, citizens say, citing an
increase in
          the number of facilities that run at night.

          The recent setting and gradual tightening of incinerator
dioxin emissions limits are part of government efforts to reduce the
amount of dioxin
          released nationwide by almost 90 percent of 1997 levels by
2002.

          In December 1997, the Health and Welfare Ministry revised the
Waste Disposal Law, reducing dioxin emission limits for the first time
          ever. These revisions took effect on Dec. 1, 1998.

          Under the revised law, incinerators in operation Dec. 1 are
allowed to release up to 80 nanograms of dioxin per cubic meter of
emissions
          until December 2002, at which point, depending on their size,
they must meet standards of 10 nanograms or less. A nanogram is a
billionth
          of a gram.

          Newer facilities are faced with even stricter standards, of
between 0.1 and 5 nanograms, depending on their capacity.

          But critics contend that this law is merely an indirect
endorsement of the status quo, and that the interim effluent value of 80
nanograms is
          much too high -- 800 times that allowed by Germany or the
Netherlands.

          "There is not a single facility in Kunugiyama that has been
stopped because it is releasing more than 80 nanograms. They have all
cleared
          this level," Maeda said.

          "This (80-nanogram) standard is not at all useful in reducing
the number of incinerators here."

          Of the 59 incinerators currently operating in the Tokorozawa
vicinity, 24 have either been scrapped or are retooling to meet new
          government regulations, according to the prefecture. The
remaining 35 all clear the interim standard, Sakurai said.

          But even if they all meet the standard, it is the sheer number
of facilities that is the problem, say locals, who called on the Health
Ministry
          late last month to adopt policies limiting dioxin emissions in
any one area.

          However, Kotani maintains that the plants that have closed or
are retooling are small and that garbage is simply being transferred to
other
          sites for incineration.

          And a former worker at a local waste processing plant agrees.

          "If we don't take the garbage, what will happen? It will rot
on the streets and people will get angry. Someone has to burn it," said
Fardine
          Ohara, who worked at a Kunugiyama incinerator up until
mid-April.

          When it comes to dioxin, few things are certain in Kunugiyama
and Tokorozawa. Interest is high and change is on the menu, but not fast

          enough to satisfy local residents. For now, the garbage trucks
continue to roll in from Tokyo with their unpopular cargo.

http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/news5-99/news5-6.html

(May 6)



Dioxin: Seveso disaster testament to effects of dioxin

          Third in a series

          By MICK CORLISS
          Staff writer

          MILAN, Italy-- Today, birds chatter in the trees and people
take Sunday strolls along the paths of Bosco delle Querce, or Seveso Oak

          Forest park. One would not suspect that beneath the lush green
carpet and vegetation lurk the poisonous remains of a chemical disaster
          nearly 23 years ago.

          The origin of the park, roughly 15 km north of Milan in
Italy's Lombardy region, can be traced back to the afternoon of July 10,
1976.

          A little after noon that Saturday, a valve broke at the
Industrie Chimiche Meda Societa Azionaria chemical plant in Meda,
releasing a
          cloud of chemicals containing dioxin that wafted an estimated
50 meters into the sky.

          Carried southeast by the wind, the toxic cloud enshrouded the
municipality of Seveso and other communities in the area.

          About 3,000 kg of chemicals were released into the air,
according to some researchers. Among them was 2,4,5 trichlorophenol,
used in
          the manufacture of herbicides, and anywhere from about 100
grams to 20 kg of dioxin, said Dr. Paolo Mocarelli of the Hospital of
Desio.

          The accident was not immediately noticed. No one was at the
plant when it happened and ICMESA -- the company responsible -- failed
          to swiftly address the event.

          The first sign of health problems, burn-like skin lesions,
appeared on children a few hours after the accident. Beginning in
September of
          that year, chloracne, a severe skin disorder usually
associated with dioxin, broke out on some of the people most exposed to
the cloud.

          Authorities began an investigation five days after the
accident, when animals such as rabbits began to die en masse. Nearly two
weeks
          later, a chemist deduced that the cause was dioxin. And within
three weeks, some 736 people living closest to the plant were evacuated.

          About 37,000 people are believed to have been exposed to the
chemicals, according to researchers familiar with the case.

          Approximately 4 percent of local farm animals died, and those
that didn't -- roughly 80,000 animals -- were killed to prevent
          contamination from filtering up the food chain.

          The affected areas were divided and subdivided based on soil
contamination levels. Zone A -- the most contaminated area, covering 110

          hectares -- was completely evacuated and was later turned into
the park it is today, Seveso Oak Forest.

          In Zones B and R, the next-most contaminated areas, farming as
well as consumption of local agricultural goods and meats were strictly
          prohibited.

          Not only did exposure to one of the most toxic chemicals known
to humanity change the lay of the land and the lives of local people, it

          also altered the life of Dr. Mocarelli.

          Mocarelli was put in charge of a laboratory set up two weeks
after the accident to test people for health problems. The first day on
the
          job, he initiated a series of tests that today have surpassed
1 million, he said.

          At the time of the accident, the technical knowhow for testing
dioxin concentrations in people did not exist, so Mocarelli's lab ran
          neurological, obstetric and other tests on those believed to
have been exposed.

          "I got the inspiration to save one sample (of blood from each
person)."

          "(Samples) like this more or less," he says holding his hand
in front of his face and indicating the fingernail of his pinkie to show
an amount
          of roughly 1 milliliter. "Just in case it would be possible to
measure TCDD (dioxin) someday."

          Fortunately, this became possible in 1987, the doctor said.

          Now the nearly 30,000 samples Mocarelli put in the
refrigerator following the accident are paying research dividends as he
works with the
          U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, headquartered
in Atlanta, to unravel the accident and its implications more than two
          decades later.

          The Seveso accident is likely the most systematically studied
dioxin contamination incident in history and, in Mocarelli's words, a
chance
          experiment on human beings.

          The chance experiment has shed light on the threat dioxin
poses. "Probably the strongest effect is on reproduction," Mocarelli
said.

          In the first seven years after the accident, an incredibly
high proportion of females were born to parents who were exposed to the
          chemical cloud: 46 females compared to only 28 males. Usually,
the proportion is roughly equal.

          This was the first time a chemical had been observed to change
the sex ratio, Mocarelli said.

          "There is no other molecule known to induce change in the sex
ratio," he said, adding that this implicates dioxin as a hormone
disrupter.

          Victims of the Seveso accident also reported symptoms of other
afflictions -- immune system and neurological disorders as well as
          spontaneous abortions -- but studies found no link to dioxin.

          Minor increases in some forms of cancer were found in one
exposed group. Studies have suggested a link between dioxin and cancer.

          The lessons of Seveso may offer clues to how dioxin might
signal its presence in Japan.

          Such telltale signs might include a shift in the sex ratio in
areas suspected of contamination, or an appearance of chloracne or skin
          disorders, such as those found in former employees of a waste
incinerator in Nose, Osaka Prefecture.

          The blood-dioxin contamination level of one former Nose worker
was almost twice the average of the most contaminated group surveyed
          in Seveso, although far below the most contaminated.

          In addition, research using the Seveso samples taken over the
last two decades may help determine what dioxin levels are dangerous,
and
          help in making more accurate risk assessments in other
nations.

          Today, Mocarelli and his team are conducting research on the
children of victims of the incident, as well as on dioxin's long-term
          carcinogenic properties. These studies will likely help enrich
debate on the topic around the world as well as in Japan, which is now
in the
          throes of its own reassessment of the chemical's effects.

          Apart from monitoring victims of the accident, another type of
monitoring continues as well.

          Beneath Seveso Oak Forest's grassy undulations are two massive
concrete tanks -- the resting place of the top 40 cm of soil removed
          after the explosion.

          It is also the final resting place of the contaminated animals
that were slaughtered, the factory -- taken apart brick by brick by
workers in
          protective suits -- as well as other buildings coated by the
fallout.

          Water seeps from the two giant tombs that lie just below the
park's surface into another container where the dioxin is treated.

          The facilities, overseen by the park service, are constantly
monitored for leaks. Ironically, today the soil here "has lower dioxin
levels than
          in average areas," according to park administrator Antonio
Mambriani.

          A desolate chunk of land after the accident and until
reclamation was completed in the 1980s, the area is now a place where
families
          gather on Sundays. Animals have returned to the park and
adjacent 13-hectare nature reserve.

          "In 1984, this place was a desert. Now, you see it is covered
with trees," Mambriani said. "If anything good came of dioxin, it was
          probably this park and the green it gave Seveso."

          Another gift of the incident has been the data on the effects
of dioxin. Reconstruction of the event using samples taken over time
have
          helped clarify how long dioxin stays in the human body, as
well as the different effects it has on children and adults.

          After 20 years of work to decipher the lessons of Seveso,
Mocarelli has simple advice to offer.

          "I think this accident teaches us that it is better to take
care of the environment before these things happen. Not after."

http://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/news5-99/news.html#story4

(May 7)

Dioxin: Levels high in incinerator-happy Japan

          Last in a series

          By MICK CORLISS
          Staff writer

          Take a look around you. Those disposable chopsticks that came
with your lunch, the plastic container it came in, the credit card you
used
          to buy it -- what do these all have in common?

          They all likely contain chlorine or chlorine-based chemicals
and will release dioxin when burned.

          These repositories of chlorine will all eventually be thrown
away. Some ultimately will find their way to a landfill in the mountains
or on the
          coast. But chances are good that they will be burned like the
overwhelming majority of Japan's garbage, before being carted off to be
          buried out of sight and mind.

          But even out of sight and out of mind might not be far enough.

          On average, Japan's air contains nearly 10 times the amount of
dioxin found in other industrialized countries. This statistic is
largely
          attributed to the country's penchant for waste incineration --
the alleged source of roughly 90 percent of the estimated 5 kg or more
of the
          toxic chemical released every year.

          "It is hard to understand Japan's dioxin situation today
without looking at the past," said Masatoshi Morita, director of the
National
          Institute for Environmental Studies and a foremost expert on
dioxin analysis.

          First discovered in Germany in 1872, dioxin is not
manufactured and has no use. Dioxin is a catch-all word for a family of
75 chemicals
          that closely resemble each other -- all chlorine-based and
sharing the same basic carbon-oxygen framework.

          Historically, dioxin was not an incinerator-related problem,
Morita said. From the late 1940s until the 1970s, the dioxin problem was

          basically one of chemicals and pesticides.

          However, in 1976, more than a century after it was concocted
in a German lab, the seriousness of dioxin pollution grew when the
          substance was discovered in emissions from a municipal waste
incinerator in the Netherlands.

          Seven years later, Ryo Tachikawa, now president of Kochi
University, detected the same phenomenon in Japan. "From this point,
people
          began to realize that dioxin was not merely an issue of
chemicals, but also a garbage issue," Morita said.

          Incineration is a relatively new addition to Japan's waste
disposal repertoire.

          After opening its borders to the West, Japan was inundated
with more than trains, planes and new technology. It also opened itself
to a
          variety of communicable diseases.

          And the 19th century's conventional method of disposal --
abandoning waste in the most convenient spot at hand -- was begrudgingly

          forsaken.

          With industrialization, workers flocked to the cities. Limited
space and a need for disease prevention prompted the government to
          embrace incineration.

          But although its history is short, its legacy is strong: Japan
has the distinction of being the world's largest burner of garbage. And
not just
          by a nose. Many observers would say Japan is far and away the
most dioxin-polluted of any developed country.

          Experts estimate that Japan is home to nearly 70 percent of
the world's waste incinerators. And nearly three-quarters of the
nation's waste
          is burned in these facilities.

          Over time, the amount and content of Japan's garbage has
changed. Today on average, more than 1 kg of garbage is produced per
citizen
          per day, and experts maintain that Japan probably has the
highest percentage of polyvinyl chloride plastic in its municipal wastes
of all
          industrialized nations.

          In an effort to allay dioxin concerns, the government has
tightened emission standards and devised a subsidy program for the
construction
          of large incinerators that can operate continuously at high
temperatures, which helps reduce dioxin emissions.

          But it is important to grasp the scale of the problem to
reduce dioxin emissions. To this end, the government is in a tizzy
compiling an
          inventory, or calculation of emissions, of the toxin. A report
is scheduled to be released in June in line with government guidelines
          announced in March.

          "The new inventory will be much more accurate and reliable,"
said Yasuo Yanagibashi of the air pollution control division of the
          Environment Agency's Air Quality Bureau. This will in turn
facilitate policymaking by clarifying exactly what steps must be taken,
ensuring
          the gradual reduction of dioxin emissions, he added.

          And while dioxin debacles of recent months have thrust the
incineration industry into the limelight, this attention may shift with
the
          government cracking down on the burning of garbage.

          "If the government succeeds with its plan to cut emissions by
more than 80 percent, I think the focus may shift to other (dioxin)
emitters --
          such as industry," said Kuniaki Makiya of the agency's Office
of Environmental Risk Assessment.

          Up to now, the government has estimated that about 5.3 kg of
dioxin is emitted annually in Japan -- a figure borrowed from a Kyoto
          University professor who calculated it in 1991 by simply
applying emission information from the United States, where incinerators

          generally burn cleaner, to Japan's volume of trash.

          While 5 kg may not sound like much, animal testing has shown
that just 1 gram of the toxin is enough to kill 10,000 people, according
to
          Toshikazu Fujiwara, director of the citizens' group Kanto
Network to Stop Dioxin Pollution.

          Fujiwara challenges the government's figure, arguing that
citizens' groups and professors generally believe it to be ridiculously
conservative.
          They estimate the figure to be closer to 15 or 20 kg per year,
he says.

          Fujiwara and others said they are encouraged to see the
government tackling the dioxin issue in earnest, but added they are
alarmed at the
          way in which it is being carried out.

          Although a regulatory net is gradually being tightened around
dioxin emissions themselves, there are no restrictions on incinerator
ash,
          which is known to contain very high levels of the toxin,
according to Teiichi Aoyama, president of the Tokyo-based Environmental
          Research Institute, a private research firm.

          In addition, the government's plan to consolidate incinerators
into large-scale facilities is also problematic, according to Aoyama.

          These need waste to operate, and this is bound to pose
problems in rural areas where keeping a garbage supply big enough to run
the
          facilities may be difficult. Eventually, the need to collect
enough garbage to keep them running may snowball into a huge financial
burden,
          critics say.

          Ultimately, large-scale incineration is not the solution,
agrees Fujiwara, who preaches the merits of a society that is PVC-free
and where
          municipalities process their own waste.

          Incineration at high temperatures -- over 800 C -- may reduce
dioxin emissions, but comes with a host of other problems, he said, such
as
          increasing output of global-warming gases and heavy metals.
Also, finding municipalities willing to accept such a facility and
process
          neighboring areas' trash will not be easy, he added.

          Fujiwara also challenges the government's attempt to come up
with a more accurate inventory of dioxin emissions data, maintaining
that its
          survey method is fundamentally flawed.

          Nearly half of the dioxin released by incinerators is released
while they are warming up and cooling down, he said. But because
          government surveys are taken during peak operating hours, the
levels recorded may be misleading, he added. "I really question whether
          this (new inventory) will translate into effective policy,"
Fujiwara said, stressing the need to look beyond incinerators for an
effective
          solution.

          Some municipalities, however, have reduced the amount of
dioxin their incinerators release through extensive and aggressive
recycling and
          garbage separation campaigns, he said.

          "I am convinced that the increases in dioxin emissions are due
largely to PVC products," he said, citing industries' production
patterns and
          society's consumption patterns as major obstacles to
effectively whittling down dioxin emissions.

          Clearly the dioxin problem is deeply rooted in our way of
life. But with citizens and the government both clearly concerned, one
          unexpected byproduct of the potential dangers posed by this
toxin may be a novel form of cooperation between the two to resolve this

          environmental dilemma.