The green paradox: Why Denmark throws away 1.5 million tonnes of food annually
Denmark is often perceived as a model of ecological solutions. With wind turbines on the horizon and bicycles on every corner, it certainly seems that way. Yet, even this Scandinavian country faces significant challenges. Every year, Danes produce over 1.2 million tonnes of food waste, making them one of the largest producers of such waste per capita in the European Union.
The latest figures published by Eurostat reveal that in 2023, Denmark generated over 1.5 million tonnes of food waste. That equates to 261 kilograms per inhabitant per year.
It is households that discard the most food within the European Union – accounting for approximately 53% of all food waste. Even in Denmark, the figures regarding household waste are stark. On average, 87 kilograms of food per person ends up in the bin annually, which is more than a quarter above the EU average.
Food waste in Denmark and EU by main economic sector in 2023
Denmark exceeds the EU average in both household waste (87 kg vs. 69 kg) and the manufacturing sector, where it produces five times the EU average - 124 kg vs. 24 kg. (Data are given in kg per inhabitant), Source: Eurostat, 2025
Total food waste per capita (2020–2023): The growing gap between Denmark and the EU
(Data are given in kg per inhabitant), Source: Eurostat, 2025
Too rich to care?
How can a nation with such high environmental awareness struggle to save purchased food from the rubbish bin? According to Jessica Aschemann-Witzel, a professor at Aarhus University and an expert on food value chains, the main cause is likely the high level of affluence.
"Wealthier countries also have higher levels of waste," explains Aschemann-Witzel. "Food in Denmark is relatively cheap compared to incomes. This means that when times get tough and it is difficult to balance various goals in the household, it is often easier to simply throw some food away."
For many Danish families, the convenience of buying fresh food simply outweighs the cost of wasting it. One might expect rising inflation to force households to save every morsel, but Aschemann-Witzel sees it differently. Consumers feel financial pressure elsewhere.
"When people talk about high prices, it isn't necessarily the food that gets thrown away most easily," she explains. "While we keep a close eye on expensive coffee or chocolate – bread, fruit, vegetables, and dairy products still head for the bin – categories that are relatively cheap and whose loss does not hurt our wallets quite as much."
The fight against waste: Civil society steps in
While statistics and expert opinions paint an unflattering picture of a society made complacent by prosperity, the reality is not so black and white. Not all Danes throw food away. On the contrary, there is a growing group of people trying to save it. And not just at home, but also food that supermarkets and other retailers would otherwise discard due to approaching expiry dates or damaged packaging.
In Denmark, for example, shops like WeFood offer these goods at a reduced price, as does the volunteer organisation Stop Spild Lokalt. Here, for a one-off fee of 35 Danish kroner, a customer can take home a full bag of groceries. To find out how such a shop works in practice, I visited one of its branches in Viby, a suburb of Aarhus, last week.
Left to chance
The shop is open three times a week from 3 pm to 4 pm. When I arrive, there are already about fifteen people standing outside in their jackets. The reason they are here so early is simple. This shop has specific rules that turn shopping into something of an adrenaline-fuelled game. Instead of taking a shopping basket, you draw a ticket with a number at the entrance. And that number determines your success.
"If you pull a low number, you’re lucky. You get your turn sooner and have a chance to get meat, for example, which is otherwise gone immediately," describes Karina Jensen, a regular customer, as we wait in the queue. "With a high number, there won't be any meat or other expensive items left for you, but the volunteers will often give you a larger amount of vegetables or bread so that everything gets distributed."
The system is designed to prevent chaos. Only a maximum of three customers are allowed into the small shop space at a time. Each is attended to by a volunteer, with whom they walk around crates full of food. It is not self-service.
"It works like this: they ask you, 'Do you want this? And this?' And you can say yes or no. Depending on what you want and what you are missing at home. They then put it in the bag. And when the bag is full and heavy, they simply say stop. And the next person goes in," says Kristen, who is also standing in the queue.
What is the main motivation?
"I live in Tilst, so we take the car and drive here for about 10 to 15 minutes. My fiancé and I do it mainly to save money in the budget for other things," explains a young woman, Simone Schmidt.
In the same breath, however, she adds that finances are not the only reason: "At the same time, I think that generally, too much food is wasted and often ends up in the bin unnecessarily. It is much better for people to take the food like this instead of it ending up as waste."
Another customer named Lala agrees: "I come here so we don't waste all that food, and also because of the climate. When you consider how much transport is involved – a lot of vegetables are brought here from far away. And then to throw it away? That seems absolutely ridiculous to me."
Most of the customers interviewed answered similarly to sixty-eight-year-old pensioner Kristen: "It’s because of the price and saving food. Both are important to me."
Changing habits
Visits to this community shop also influence how people shop in regular supermarkets. Many admit that thanks to "rescued" food, their visits to classic stores have been kept to a minimum.
"I hardly shop in regular stores anymore. Only for bananas, perhaps, or things that aren't here at the moment," says Kristen, who visits the shop regularly.
She carries this approach home, where she tries to utilise every bite. "I always use everything I have. I make soups, I combine meat and potatoes together. I don't throw anything away at all," others describe the same approach to me.
A boom in food rescue
Interest in this way of shopping is constantly growing. While back in January, when the Viby branch started, between 5 and 10 people came, today the situation is different. "There was a huge boom over the summer. Now it is standard for 30 to 40 people to come," confirms Terese, one of the volunteers.
"Young people, old people, students and pensioners come here. It’s not necessarily just about who is poor, but who wants to get a good deal," explains Lene Mortas, another volunteer.
The organisation Stop Spild Lokalt thus manages to redistribute around 30 tonnes of food daily across Denmark. However, not even here can absolutely everything be saved. Volunteers must carefully check every delivery and discard spoiled items before opening.
What is not sold and will not last until the next day often ends up with animals – for example, a local breeder regularly collects old bread from the Viby branch for her pigs. The food thus finds a use, even if it is not sold.
Night-time treasure hunt
While at Stop Spild Lokalt food rescue takes place in an organised manner and in broad daylight, there is another, much more adventurous path. It often takes place under the cover of darkness, in the backyards of supermarkets. It is called dumpster diving.
I set out with a young couple who practice this method of subsistence regularly, at least two or three times a week. They are not students without money; both are just under thirty and have regular jobs. Nevertheless, in the evenings, equipped with torches and bags, they head to the bins.
What drives them to do it? "For me, it's saving money and the environment," says the young woman, Alberte. Her friend Abel adds: "I feel the same. But there is also that feeling of excitement. Definitely. When you open a bin and find something good, like a pile of fresh vegetables, it's like finding a small treasure."
This description fits precisely the profile outlined by Professor Jessica Aschemann-Witzel. "I assume they are not families, but rather students. And probably more often men, because they have a greater tendency to take risks," she explains. At the same time, she points out the psychological aspect of this activity: "They don't do it just to save money, but also because it's fun. There is the thrill of the hunt."
Rules of dumpster diving
Although dumpster diving is not illegal in Denmark, it has its rules. "If the bin is locked with a padlock, or you have to jump over a fence, then it is illegal. That would be breaking and entering. But if it is open and freely accessible, you can take what you want," the pair explain.
However, there is also an unwritten code of honour that "divers" observe. The place must always be left in the condition in which they found it. "You must never leave food lying on the ground or leave the lid open. That could attract rats and the supermarket might lock the bins," emphasises Alberte.
And what can actually be found?
Everything. "Vegetables, that's a hundred per cent certainty. Bread too. Sometimes you find meat, but we don't trust that much," laughs Abel. His fridge is proof of the success of their hunts – he estimates that 20 to 30 per cent of its contents comes from bins. "At certain times, I basically don't buy any vegetables. I only get meat, milk, and eggs in the shop. I find the rest here."
Occasionally, they manage jackpots that resemble a lottery win rather than rummaging through rubbish. "Once I found five or six boxes of chocolates and expensive energy bars. Each cost 30 kroner, so that was a real treasure," Abel recalls.
"When it's cold, the food in the bins stays fresh much longer and spoils less. It is much safer and there are more good catches than in summer," adds Alberte.
A frequent excuse from her acquaintances as to why they don't join in is a lack of time. Alberte firmly rejects this. "Many of my friends say they don't do it because they don't have time. In reality, it takes almost no time at all. You often cycle past the shop on your way home from work, you just peek inside. It's a matter of five minutes, often faster than a regular shop. However, if I bring them the food, they never refuse. They appreciate what I do," she adds.
Professor Aschemann-Witzel acknowledges that dumpster diving helps raise awareness about waste, but she does not consider it a systemic solution. "It is absurd for a shop to throw food away and for a person to have to climb into a bin for it." Furthermore, she warns of invisible dangers. Divers often do not realise that discarded food may have been withdrawn from sale due to serious health risks.
Trash or dinner? Abel sorts through food during his nightly hunt, selecting items that are still safe to eat. Muted. Video: Viktorie Melicharová
EU targets and the impact of recession
While individuals rescue vegetables from bins, the European Union is preparing systemic changes. It has set an ambitious goal: to reduce food waste in retail and households by 30% by 2030. Is this realistic for Denmark, the current record holder in waste?
"It is realistic if the right steps are taken," thinks Aschemann-Witzel. Paradoxically, a worsening economic situation could "help" Denmark. "When a recession hits and people have less money, they naturally waste less," she adds, noting that relying on poverty should not be a state strategy.
The real solution: The future lies in dynamic pricing
Where, then, does the real solution lie? According to the Aarhus University professor, we must work with human convenience. The ideal scenario is one where food never leaves the shelf. Instead of relying on unsold food being rescued at the last minute by volunteers in community centres or hunters in bins, we should ensure it is sold before it becomes waste.
"Dumpster divers often complain that they find food that wasn't discounted. Staff simply don't have the time to stick discount labels on goods," Aschemann-Witzel explains the barrier faced by overworked shop employees.
She sees the future in automated dynamic pricing. "Imagine technology that automatically lowers the price of food as the expiry date approaches. Not just on the last day, but gradually. The closer to expiration, the lower the price," describes the professor.
For retailers, this would mean the end of the tedious application of yellow stickers. Customers who want to save money would simply reach for the cheaper product directly on the shelf. The food gets eaten instead of ending up in the waste.
But for this to work, a few isolated attempts are not enough. "If this were introduced in all supermarkets across Denmark, it would have a huge impact," concludes Aschemann-Witzel.
What the individual can do: A return to pen and paper
However, before smart technologies become standard in all Danish supermarkets, the responsibility lies with each of us. And you don't necessarily have to go to the bins with a torch to do your part.
When I ask Professor Aschemann-Witzel for the single piece of advice she would give to every household, she doesn't hesitate for a second: "Planning."
"Most research shows that the biggest difference is made by exactly what happens before the shopping trip. Making a list, checking the fridge to see what I already have, and planning meals," she concludes.
Does it sound banal? Perhaps. But in a country where every household throws away 87 kilograms of food a year, a return to the ordinary shopping list might just be the greatest revolution of all.