China’s Waste Incineration Plants Are Running Out of Trash
Henan Province, July 2025 — In a warehouse on the outskirts of town, heaps of cardboard, rubber scraps, and discarded fabric rise like miniature hills. A forklift loads the waste into trucks bound for local incineration plants. “We’ll take anything that burns—10,000 tons a month!” declares Yuan Weichao, a veteran waste trader, filming the scene for social media.
Yuan says demand from incinerators has surged. What used to be neglected industrial refuse is now a hot commodity. “Every month, four or five plants contact me, asking for 2,000 tons of waste.” The prices are climbing. In Shandong, incinerators now pay up to ¥100 per ton for high-quality burnable waste. “It’s a scramble,” says one supervisor. “If it goes any higher, we’re losing money.”
From Waste Siege to Waste Shortage
Not long ago, China’s waste-to-energy boom was a response to the problem of “waste siege” in cities. Incinerators were built across the country to reduce landfill use and generate electricity. But now, some plants face an ironic dilemma: not enough trash to burn.
Operators report running at 60–70% of capacity. Restarting furnaces is costly, and financial models depend on high utilization. To fill the gap, some plants have sent out dedicated teams to source industrial or agricultural waste, often from other regions.
This imbalance is not due to a drop in overall waste generation. According to Xu Haiyun, an environmental policy expert, the problem lies in uneven distribution of capacity. Some plants operate at full load, while others sit idle. He estimates that about 10% of China’s incinerators are underfed to the point of impacting operations.
Planning Blind Spots
China’s waste incinerators are often developed under long-term concession agreements, giving private firms exclusive operating rights for 25–30 years. In return, governments guarantee a minimum volume of waste and provide subsidies or processing fees.
This model attracted investment, but many projects were planned using inflated waste estimates. In rural counties, urban benchmarks (1 kg of waste per person per day) were applied, even though local generation was far lower (0.3–0.5 kg). When populations declined or plateaued, the mismatch became clear.
To fulfill guaranteed volumes, some local governments dug up old landfills. But only 30% of landfill material is suitable for incineration, and much of it has already degraded. Operators had to sort and mix it with other fuels, increasing costs. Eventually, even the landfills ran dry.
An Unsustainable System of Dependence
For many plants, financial viability depends on government support. In past years, incinerators earned up to ¥0.80/kWh from national and local electricity subsidies, in addition to per-ton processing fees. Some plants made tens of millions of yuan annually, with little focus on operational efficiency.
But since 2020, central authorities have begun phasing out subsidies. Support is now limited to the first 10 years of a concession. Local subsidies have become irregular. “Sometimes it’s a million a year, sometimes two—never consistent,” says one operator.
Governments, too, are locked in. Once a concession is signed, they must guarantee waste volumes—even if it means paying premium fees (e.g., ¥170/ton) to private incinerators, while public ones cost only a fraction.
Residents may soon share the burden. In cities like Beijing, household waste fees are modest (¥3/month), often hidden in utility bills. But these payments barely cover front-end services like collection and sanitation. Expanding “pay-as-you-throw” models faces obstacles such as income disparity and high implementation costs.
Seeking Balance: Integration and Innovation
The July 2025 Central Urban Work Conference called for a new phase in urban development: from rapid expansion to optimization of existing resources. For the incineration sector, this means shifting away from scale and subsidy, and toward efficiency, integration, and sustainability.
Some localities are responding. In Beijing, waste heat from incineration provides district heating to 3 million square meters of homes. In Suzhou, excess energy supports eco-agriculture greenhouses. Bottom ash is recycled into construction materials.
Meanwhile, co-processing of general industrial waste—which is non-hazardous—is gaining traction. Regions like Zhejiang and Wuhan have issued guidelines to allow limited volumes into household incinerators. In Taiwan and Europe, industrial waste already makes up 40–50% of incinerated volume.
Xu Haiyun emphasizes the need for cross-agency coordination. Currently, municipal waste is managed by housing authorities, while industrial waste falls under environmental regulators. A unified system with clear pricing and access rules would allow industrial generators and incinerators to collaborate more effectively.
International Models and Emerging Signals
Europe offers instructive lessons. After overbuilding incineration capacity, the EU Waste Directive now mandates member states to raise recycling rates to 65% by 2035. In Spain’s Catalonia region, taxes on incineration fund subsidies for upstream recycling.
In China, local experiments are emerging:
Xiamen provides ¥125/ton subsidies for low-value recyclables.
Shanghai has integrated neighborhood-based recycling hubs to support informal collectors and improve data transparency.
“But these efforts are still too invisible,” says Mao. “If people don’t know where sorted waste goes, they’ll lose trust in the system.”
What’s needed now—for residents, investors, and regulators—is a stable, long-term signal that prioritizes resource circulation over disposal.