Every year, billions of rubber tyres are produced around the globe for
all forms of motorised vehicles and bicycles. Each car sold comes with five
tyres, including the spare, and may use several more. Lorries use far more.
Millions of old, worn-out tyres are discarded annually throughout the world.

Used-tyre ‘mountains’ seem destined to become a feature of landscapes
– especially in industrialised countries where the densities of vehicles
are highest. In the developing world the threat is more serious. Discarded
tyres collect small amounts of water and provide perfect breeding sites
for mosquitoes, particularly Aedes aegypti, the vector of several critical
diseases such as dengue and yellow fever. Populations of A. aegypti are
now at an all-time high in most tropical countries, and the incidence of
dengue and yellow fever is rising.

So what can be done to solve the tyre problem? Burn them, I hear the
sceptics cry – or at least those who did not hear of the fire which broke
out in February in a single dump of 14 million tyres in Canada. The tyres
burnt for two weeks.

The thick acrid, black smoke from burning tyres contains suspended particulate
matter and a potentially lethal cocktail of gases. The high sulphur content
of the tyres results in large amounts of sulphur dioxide being emitted.
And the black, oily liquid produced consists of a potent mixture of toxic
chemicals. A fire in a dump in Scotland which contained 15 000 tonnes of
tyres produced 90 000 litres of oily liquid which seeped into a local river,
killing all fish up to 10 kilometres downstream.

So, burning is out of the question. And presumably there are relatively
few openings for tyre sculptures. What options are left? Tyres are traditionally
used as fenders on pleasure boats, or are recycled to make doormats or aircraft
landing mats. Yet more are pulverised and mixed with asphalt to make rubberised
pavements. In Australia, inventors have proposed floating old tyres on the
surface of reservoirs to stop water evaporating. Other suggested uses are
as lifebuoys and as markers for lobster pots. A fair dinkum effort, but
not likely to make much of a dent in the 12 million tyres dumped each year
in that part of the world.

In the US, where used tyres are scaling new peaks, scientists are turning
their minds to the problem, stimulated by the funds on offer from a variety
of increasingly concerned authorities. Such research has already resulted
in the discovery of a technique to convert old tyres into a polymer composite
that can be used to make hose pipes, gaskets, rollers and, more significantly,
new tyres – at a price lower than that required to make tyres from new rubber.
Other inventors have devised means to grind tyres to a powder, mix it with
plastics and produce cheap plastic piping.

All highly commendable, but unlikely to solve the problem in the US,
spiritual home of the automobile, where 240 million tyres are discarded
every year.

As has been the case with every other environmental problem that becomes
identified as being significant or of crucial global importance, big money
will soon be involved with serious profits to be made. Perhaps those inventors
who are still struggling to invent a better mousetrap should turn their
attention to finding a way to dispose of rubber tyres safely, so that the
world can beat a path to their door without having to climb over massive
used-tyre mountains along the way.

Andy Crump is a science writer based in Germany who does not know what
to do with the worn tyres from his car.

Every match, youngsters accompanied the competing teams onto the pitch,
bearing a bright yellow banner emblazoned with the words ‘Fair play, please’.
Whether the plea was aimed at the players or a more divine being remains,
along with the dubious offside decisions and disallowed goals, a matter
of conjecture. It does, however, represent a request to which there is a
technological solution readily available. Science could be applied to football
so that justice and fair play are seen to be done, instead of being used
to show us that they weren’t?

Consider the facts. The tournament in Italy is worth billions. It will
continue raking in money until the last yellow video and T-shirt is sold.
Even the turf from the stadium in Rome where the final was played is being
dug up and peddled. Football generates vast revenues, and passions. The
feelings of virtually the whole population of Brazil and Argentina ebb and
flow with success or failure of their national sides. The hardship of everyday
life for many people in Cameroon was temporarily forgotten as they basked
in the glory of the unexpected success of their team in Italy.

If the game is so important, and the results mean so much in terms of
money, national pride and social harmony, and given that every major international
match is scrutinised in the minutest detail by all the most up-to-date television
techniques and other electronic wizardry, why is every game controlled by
a single man dressed in black armed only with a whistle and two coloured
pieces of card?

This poor soul has to make all the decisions, without the assistance
of instant television replays – which the audience and commentators use
intensively to analyse critically his every decision. The referee cannot
possibly see all the deliberate trips, kicks, spitting and other intimidatory
actions that television does. He has no recourse to cameras to judge marginal
offside decisions or disallow suspect goals. But why not? The infamous ‘Hand
of God’ goal by Diego Maradona of Argentina against England in the 1986
World Cup is a case in point. If the goal had been disallowed for handball,
as the television indicated it to be, who is to say what the result against
England would have been? Admittedly, Maradona scored a second, legitimate
goal later. But a team plays differently and in a different frame of mind
when it is a goal down or a goal ahead.

In the 1990 tournament, numerous examples to support the use of televisual
replays and more officials to control games cropped up. Again, Maradona
provided an example. In a game against the Soviet Union, he handled a goal-bound
shot which prevented the Soviet side from taking the lead. This was clearly
shown by the television pictures, but missed by the referee who was standing
just a couple of metres away. The Soviets went on to lose the match and
to exit the tournament at an early stage.

The rules of football more or less say that the decision of the referee
is final. But is this fair in general, and on the referees in particular?
The answer is clearly no, especially in the case of referees whose work
is open to ‘trial by television’. Appeals against bookings and sendings
off are now commonplace, and televisual evidence figures heavily in the
case to reverse the referee’s decision.

In the US, American Football is big with the fans, and big business.
Several officials control a game, both on the field of play and in television
control rooms. They have access to instant televisual replays to enable
them to take the correct decisions. Fair play is assured as far as is possible.

As the recording and communications technology is already available,
and the next championship is to be held in the US, can we look forward to
more professional control of every game and fairer play than has been seen
in the past few tournaments? Or will the histrionics of the players, disputed
goals, unjust results and social unrest continue?

Andy Crump is an active sportsman who transferred to the ranks of ‘armchair
athletes’, and now lives in Germany.