Time and time again, after returning from Hong Kong, Tokyo, Copenhagen, New York or Tallinn, I am appalled by the dirt and waste one is confronted with across the entire lowlands. While in the cities I departed from, you could walk a kilometre and not see even a cigarette bud or a candy wrapper on the ground or where you could literally eat from the floor because its so clean, in Amsterdam, Rotterdam or any other city, the Dutch welcome you with waste lined platforms, overflowing bins, disgustingly dirty trains with seats sticky with spilled soda and city centres where pigeons peck at fries while paper napkins flutter through the air like confetti from a careless celebration. Dutch cities remind me of counterparts in developing countries where there simply is not money for waste management and cleaning, but not of places in one of the richest countries on the planet.

Two Worlds: Dutch vs. Clean Cities

Compare Dutch cities with places in Asia:

Tokyo, where public bins are rare, but the streets are immaculate, maintained not just by cleaners but by a shared civic ethic.

Hong Kong, where government-contracted cleaning crews sweep even residential back alleys multiple times a day and littering carries social shame and legal fines.

Shenzhen, a city that rose fast but cleans faster—armed with a near-military fleet of cleaners and AI-managed waste systems.

Singapore, where chewing gum is controlled and littering can land you a hefty fine, and still the citizens take care not to drop even a tissue.

Even Scandinavian cities like Copenhagen and Stockholm or cities in Eastern Europe like Warsaw or Tallinn —less rigid than their Asian counterparts—offer clean, orderly streets, with public spaces that are clearly respected. You might find the odd wrapper, but rarely the piles of rubbish that now seem typical in Dutch urban centres.

Ways out of the Urban Rubbish Dump

The Netherlands, for all its strengths in design and infrastructure, has developed a blind spot when it comes to the everyday management of urban cleanliness. The problem is not a lack of rubbish bins or street cleaners—though both could be improved—but rather a cultural complacency that has crept into public life. There is an unspoken assumption that someone else will take care of the mess, and when no one does, the debris simply piles up.

Littering is widely seen as a minor offence, if it’s regarded as an offence at all. People leave coffee cups on benches, drop fast food wrappers by tram stops, or toss cigarette butts into the gutter without much thought. While the laws technically prohibit this, enforcement is weak and consequences are rare. This lax approach fosters a feedback loop where public spaces feel neglected, and in turn, people treat them with even less care.

Part of the issue lies in inconsistent waste collection and the inadequate frequency of street cleaning. While municipal workers do their rounds, they’re often overburdened, particularly in high-traffic zones like city centres and transportation hubs. Overflowing bins are a common sight, and their contents frequently become the prey of seagulls and end up scattered across pavements by wind or those rummaging for deposit-return bottles. The design of the waste system itself contributes to the problem; public waste bins often lack the capacity needed, and while bottle recycling schemes are meant to promote sustainability, they inadvertently encourage behaviour that makes public spaces messier.

Compare this to cities like Hong Kong, where cleaning teams are ever-present and waste is removed before it becomes a problem, or Tokyo, where social expectations ensure that even in the absence of bins, people carry their rubbish home. In Singapore, strict penalties are matched by civic campaigns and immaculate infrastructure. These cities combine policy, design, and culture into a unified system of urban discipline. The Netherlands could take a page from their book.

A meaningful solution would require more than just hiring additional cleaning staff. It would mean reshaping public attitudes through education, increasing the visibility of fines and enforcement for littering, and redesigning urban waste systems to reduce the chance of spillage and scavenging. Most importantly, it would require a national conversation about civic pride—not the kind rooted in bike lanes and beautiful buildings, but in treating public space with the dignity it deserves. Clean streets aren’t just the responsibility of municipalities—they are a shared reflection of how much a society cares for itself.

Dutch cities have everything they need to be clean—money, infrastructure, and intelligence. What’s missing is a shift in mindset. Until we begin to treat public space with the same respect as a private living room, no clean-up crew in the world will be enough.

Cover image: Moose (Bailey and Muppet) via Flickr: Waste in Rotterdam – a prey for the seagulls