Mayor Richard Daley's environmental legacy will be a complicated one. For at least a decade, he has waged a well-publicized campaign to turn Chicago into the nation's "greenest" city. He's championed green spaces, oversaw the construction of rooftop gardens spanning 2 million square feet, retrofitted municipal buildings and schools, and even unveiled an ambitious Climate Action Plan to cut the city's carbon emissions by 25 percent over 10 years.

When he leaves office next year, this work could be overshadowed by his administration's failure to address sufficiently two major environmental hazards: poor air quality and excess waste. Having chosen not to crack down on some of the region's dirtiest polluters, including several coal-fired power plants, city residents (particularly those in low-income communities) now face more exposure to dangerous toxic pollutants than nearly anyone in the country. Perhaps more maddening, given the relative simplicity of the task, is that only 8 percent of the waste from the 600,000 homes with city garbage service is being recycled, according to data from the city's Department of Environment. Two-thirds of Chicago households don't even have basic access to curbside recycling services.

Mick Dumke's treatise on the topic, published in the Reader earlier this year, provides a great window into Chicago's byzantine and underfunded recycling system. Currently, city trucks pick up blue recycling bins at about 241,000 homes and small multi-unit buildings that receive city garbage service. The program, small in size, was not expanded as expected this year because of budget concerns. (Indeed, thousands of carts are sitting in a warehouse waiting to be distributed.) And Daley spent 15 years promoting his "blue bag" pick-up program, which cost millions per year and didn't even keep recyclable waste out of landfills. Chicago now operates 36 recycling drop-off sites that, while helpful, are routinely overrun because recycling demand is so high.

At larger residential buildings and condos, offices, and other businesses (which produce the bulk of Chicago's waste), owners must sign up for private recycling programs. Most ignore the rule entirely ... perhaps because it is rarely enforced by city regulators. "Uninspired," "unorganized," and "lackluster" were just a few of the adjectives Mike Nowak, president of the Chicago Recycling Coalition, used to describe Daley's recycling stewardship.

Facing a daunting budget deficit, Daley needs to find revenue quickly. This summer, he admitted that his administration is attempting to privatize curbside recycling collection. The Department of Streets and Sanitation has already put out a request for proposals, seeking "to find a recycling hauler who might be able to provide this service at a lower cost." The extra revenue, Daley says, will be used to expand blue cart service to new areas. (If the private bids are too high, the city would ostensibly abort the plan.)

Curbside pickup is about the only leg of the city's recycling system that isn't yet outsourced. And it's conceivable that selling off the service could save the city some needed cash. But Daley's record on privatization is questionable, to say the least. City officials have already started leasing recycling centers to politically-connected pals. If the new revenue was used immediately to plug general revenue gaps (as opposed to expand services), it could turn out to be as short-sighted as the parking meter lease, which is now politically-toxic. "The devil is in the details," says Nowak.

Laborers Union Local 1001, which represents the city's garbage crew, has an idea of its own. Last week, the Sun-Times reported that the union wants to impose a $10 monthly fee for recycling pickups. The charge would bring in roughly $72 million, which could be used to expand curbside pickup services citywide and save hundreds of union jobs.

Of course, asking residents to pay another city fee during a deep economic recession isn't the easiest thing for politicians to do. Those who have been taking their recyclables to one of the city's drop-off bins, at their own expense, might also feel like they're being double-taxed. (We've requested comment from Local 1001 and will update the post with any information if we receive it.)

What makes Chicago's recycling conundrum especially frustrating is that environmental experts basically know what the city needs to do to get its ship in order. In the spring, the Daley administration released the results of a recycling study conducted by a consulting and engineering firm called CDM. As Dumke describes it, the paper (PDF) "offered city officials some straightforward recommendations:"

Offer blue carts citywide, provide more opportunities for residents to recycle clothing and compost organic waste, launch education and outreach programs, and start enforcing recycling laws already on the books.

In other words, the city's recycling woes could be allayed if elected officials actually prioritized the issue.

With Daley leaving next year, Nowak says it presents an opportunity for new mayoral candidates to put forward a comprehensive approach, one that understands recycling lowers emissions, brings in city revenue ($36 per ton sold), and reduces the expensive cost of landfilling. The City Council, which has long griped about recycling access but not produced a coherent expansion plan itself, shouldn't sit on its hands, either.

"Candidates are coming into the race knowing it's a problem," Nowak says. "We want the details. CRC is going to hold them accountable."