MOST of the outrage over the debacle of the Deposit Return Scheme has rightly focused on the millions of pounds wasted on a project that had no chance of ever working from the day it was unveiled.

Less attention has been paid to why it collapsed: primarily that it was designed to capture material that was already being collected by the councils at the kerbside, and Circularity Scotland's business plan was dependent on thousands of deposits not being claimed. And of course all the "new jobs" that DRS forecasted were nothing of the kind: simply replacing permanent "green" jobs that had existed for decades. Despite that, some zealots continue to bleat that "it works well in other countries, why not here?".

There's no doubt that our recycling performances (that have plateaued for years now) need to be kick-started so it's heartening to learn that a few Scottish waste recycling companies are now looking at options to build on our existing kerbside collection services, creating new employment opportunities but without jeopardising existing jobs in the private and public sectors.

The basic concept of a deposit being levied on drinks containers wouldn't change, but instead of people having to take their empties to premises with reverse vending machines, they would use an app to scan the QR codes on the cans and bottles they already put in their kerbside container. When this material goes through the sorting process at the recycling facility, it would then be scanned again and the QR codes would generate a trigger that would automatically return the deposits to the householder. OK, the technology is cutting edge but it would be a lot easier to set up than the DRS devised by Zero Waste Scotland, nor cost the £100-120 million (and counting) blown by the former minister. For a start, it wouldn't disrupt our existing recycling arrangements, as there would no longer be a need to recruit additional haulage contractors. It would also encourage householders to maximise the amount of material they separate out, and ensure the financial viability of the council's existing kerbside collection schemes (that were under threat if the original DRS had ever been implemented).

And there's no reason why the reverse vending machines already installed at the behest of Circularity Scotland couldn't be brought into the system at some point to encourage those people who prefer to do so to bring in their empties. That would make a practical contribution to reducing this litter stream (as Lorna Slater had originally promised). OK, not every home will have a resident who can work the app, nor a facility for handling any deposits refunded but these problems could be addressed over time (and at a fraction of the cost of the Circularity Scotland debacle).

But it begs the question: why is it always left to the front-line people in the waste industry to develop innovation at this level?

John Crawford, Preston.

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Those testing times of yore

NOW that all the excitement and tension of the receipt of exam results has evaporated and normality has been restored after the ecstasy of outstanding results and the licking of the wounds of what have looked like unsatisfactory grades, I thought that it would be a good time to let those uptight teenagers hear what happened in what we geriatrics refer to as the good old and more innocent days when it came to hearing our results.

Those were the days when the dinosaurs roamed the Earth.

In our establishment, the fifth and sixth years were shepherded into what had been two classrooms but became one with the sliding back of the dividing partitions.

There we were seated as the Deputy Head strode to the dais at the front of the extended classroom with his record of all our school results.

Only then did the recitation of results begin alphabetically.

If your name was at the early part of the alphabet, your torture was soon over while those at the latter part of the alphabet had to sweat longer to hear their results.

No TV interviews, no razzamatazz over exemplary results and no tears about below-par performances.

You left that assembly either cheerful or chastened, the former enjoying congratulations from their peers, the latter receiving commiserations for their misfortunes from their friends.

Nowadays the day of reckoning is a big thing, egos protected by getting results by email, text or letter, TV cameras in some areas on hand to glorify those who have swept the board while those who have fallen below what was expected of them are spared any humiliation.

I just wonder whether the snowflake generation would have the nerve to endure the public revelation of their results before their cohort of examinees.

Sadly we live in different times when pressure is brought to bear on teenagers owing to the stresses and strains of the digital age and social media.

Denis Bruce, Bishopbriggs.

Loch KatrineLoch Katrine (Image: Newsquest)

Cool on Katrine

SIR Walter Scott’s poem The Lady of the Lake publicised the magnificence of the views to be witnessed at Loch Katrine. These views have recently been enhanced with the erection of a three-storey scenic tower and lookout ("Birthplace of Scottish tourism marked with tower at viewpoint", The Herald, August 23). However, their magnificence was not one universally shared. Dorothy, sister of William Wordsworth, expressed the opinion that Loch Katrine was "like a barren Ulswater [sic ] - Ulswater dismantled of its grandeur and cropped of its lesser beauties". Clearly she was a follower of the old saying "beauty is in the eye of the beholder".

Ian W Thomson, Lenzie.

Accentuating the positive

I NOTE with pride that the Scottish accent was recently voted as third in the top 50 in the world.

Of course, as with most countries that have distinctive accents there are many variations across Scotland, some of which might not have reached the top 50.

In my own case there were challenges along the way to developing my refined Scottish burr.

I was born and bred in Dundee and so my early verbal communication was made almost completely without the use of consonants, relying entirely on vowels and glottal stops.

Thus, the question “whaur’s meh peh?” (where is my pie?) might have elicited the response “ e’ e’ i’ a'", the literal translation being “I ate it all” (hard to believe I know, but you get the hang of it with a bit of practice).

My mother decided that this would severely limit my career and relationship opportunities or indeed any form of social intercourse, so I was dragged along to elocution lessons where the inestimable Miss Angus gradually upped the use of consonants to produce my current Scottish/ English brogue.

I haven’t looked back but having emigrated to the west coast some 30 years ago I sometimes miss the opportunity to ask for an “ingin” bridie when in the bakers.

Keith Swinley, Ayr.