For most of us, freedom means the ability to voice our opinions, to marry whomever we choose and to make our own purchasing decisions.
For me, it also means the freedom to put my trash can wherever I want on my property.
Allow me to set the scene. You return to your home off-campus after a long day of class, study sessions, meetings, et cetera, et cetera.
Your garbage has been collected — good. But wait, the government actually left some “garbage” of its own behind! There’s a citation hanging on your door from the Chapel Hill Public Works Solid Waste Services Division with a penalty of $25 — not good.
What did you do? Put innocent drivers in danger by throwing your trash all over the street? Pile flammable goods in your trash and then set them aflame? No. You left your bin at the curb, on your property, off the street, after 7 p.m. on pickup day.
It could happen to any of us; it happened to me. A fee of $25 is nothing to scoff at. That’s 4 hours of work for someone on minimum wage (after taxes, of course). While reading through the town code (we violated section 8-5), I remembered how much power comes with controlling the language of laws. The language is so vague that the town can enforce the law however it chooses.
What does it mean to be “at the curb,” as opposed to “removed” from the curb? Is 1 foot far enough away? 10 feet? 100 feet? 6 miles?
The town compounds this vagueness by enforcing the law inconsistently. We received a $25 citation, but we know friends who, on other occasions, received friendly warnings with no fine.
My favorite kinds of laws are the ones where different people receive different punishments.
I should note there is an appeals process, but even if you were able to somehow get the town to waive your fine, you’d have spent valuable time and effort just to prove your innocence.
