THE idea had been simmering for some time, so we probably should have seen it coming. But last weekend, ironically in the same edition of the JEP which contained a reader’s letter expressing surprise at the unexpected enormity of the energy-from-waste plant rising at La Collette, up bubbles the suggestion that Guernsey should keep its own face clean by shipping its waste here.

Exporting unpleasant material you can’t deal with is, of course, not a new concept in our sister island’s waste management strategy, as the campaigning surfers of Bellegreve Bay will attest and, surprise, surprise, the new initiative comes from the company involved in building the Jersey incinerator.  So no spin-off commercial opportunity there.

To add insult to injury, the company’s chief executive seeks to convince Guernsey folk of the merits of his proposal by affirming that if the island were to go ahead with its own plant, it would be environmentally unfriendly as a process, result in a huge ugly building partly destroying their [north-eastern] coastline, and be far too expensive.  Now, doesn’t that touch a sensitive nerve.

In answer to the JEP correspondent, the plant at La Collette was always going to be huge – and you haven’t yet seen the external pipe-work needed to join up the new sarcophagus with the existing JEC chimney.  Gone is any pretence of harmonising the structure with the environment, the promised woodland screening, even the original curved roof reminiscent of the award-winning design of London’s Charing Cross Station by architects Terry Farrell – though, perversely, that initial computer generated image still occasionally appears as a backdrop to TV reports.

No, the colossus designed by the ubiquitous Hopkins stable appears to have followed the well-trodden local developers’ path of going for the biggest, with the expectation that it will be knocked back by the planners.  Trouble is, in this case, Planning and Environment cohabits with Transport and Technical Services, so the outcome was never in doubt.

The final structure is also likely to disappoint the two middle-aged tourists I observed strolling along the La Collette promenade last week, gazing at the exceptionally high tide breaking against the retaining wall of the site.  ‘It looks like they’re building a new hotel there – it’ll have some really stunning views!’

I have to admit that back in May last year, my heart missed an envious beat when I first clapped eyes on the artist’s impression of the proposed solution to Guernsey’s long-running waste controversy.   What was presented then was a relatively low-rise, potentially eco-friendly, EfW plant with a large recycling capacity which, while occupying a prominent sea-side location, merged into the landscape.

Admittedly, it was one of these romanticised consultant’s drawings, surrounded by grass and mature trees magically transplanted into the existing reclaimed wasteland at Longue Hougue near St Sampson’s harbour. From first reading, at least, it seemed it would be run with local interests and environment in mind.

The architects were even taken on boat trips to examine the profile and setting of the coastline, with the catch line to make the plant an icon, not an eyesore.    Well, it must have convinced someone because despite the price tag of £93 million, work soon got under way progressing the scheme.

Of course, because we broke ground first, our neighbours are now presented with a convenient working example of what to copy and what to avoid. Well, not surprisingly, after 15 years’ deliberation, the sceptics have once again now peered over the parapet.

The arguments against  constructing a large EfW plant to munch and burn through the results of our hoover-like appetite for consumption have been remarkably similar on both sides of the Muratti pitch. ‘It’s too big and expensive  – we’re all be recycling far more.  It’s too small – we’ll still run out of space and have to burn and bury the rubbish it can’t handle’. Ring any bells?  The scheme has become a hot political potato and is due back for more discussion in their States, with an implied threat from the island’s Public Services Minister that he will resign if it is rejected. Hence the revival of the ‘cunning plan’ to forget all about organising their own solution and export the stuff here.

Practically, of course, there would indeed be room for it – for a time at least. Cynics might even allege that it was always part of a secret money-making agenda. Why else build something which is fifteen years ahead of its capacity? It might even herald a new era of inter-island solidarity and collaborative spirit, though the prospect of Guernsey’s incinerated emissions drifting over St Helier, is hardly fair exchange for a couple of bits of discarded Second World War ordnance littering the base of a local cliff.

In the longer term, when Guernsey does eventually bite the bullet and, capitalising on our experience, builds a super-improved plant of its own, this renewed spirit of exchange could extend much further.

When, like Bellozanne before it, our fiery furnace goes on the blink, quid-pro-quo, we could send our waste over to them.

But wait a minute.  We can recognise value when we see it.  Jersey waste is superior stuff. All those mountains of posh nosh and designer nappies we chuck out, it’s not rubbish, you know.

Instead of just sending it up in smoke, why not make a bob or two on all that extra electricity they’ll be generating for themselves over there? So maybe emptying their black hole in the ground to fill the one in our Treasury isn’t such a bad idea after all.  And since our chaps are getting really smart with all this euro money, we’re bound to make a profit – aren’t we?