San Clemente residents are on the front edge of a major regional decision that will shape the community for decades to come.

Orange County is undergoing a fundamental shift in how it manages its waste. The County has made a clear policy determination: building new landfills in Orange County is considered “highly unlikely.” As a result, the region must rely almost entirely on its existing landfill system well into the next century.

That system is already shrinking.

The Olinda Alpha Landfill in Brea is nearing capacity and is expected to close as early as the end of 2026. Once it shuts down, Orange County will be left with just two active landfills to serve the entire region: the Frank R. Bowerman Landfill in Irvine and the Prima Deshecha Landfill, located between San Juan Capistrano and San Clemente.

In evaluating how to handle the loss of the Brea facility, the County studied multiple options, including shifting more waste to Irvine. However, in its official environmental review, the County concluded that expanding the Prima Deshecha Landfill is the “environmentally superior” alternative.

That decision has far-reaching implications.

By choosing this path, the County is effectively designating Prima Deshecha as its primary waste disposal solution for the next 70-plus years, with a projected closure date extending to 2102. For residents of San Clemente, Talega, Forster Ranch, and nearby San Juan Capistrano neighborhoods, this represents a permanent shift in the role the landfill will play in the community.

What is now a large but manageable facility is poised to become a high-intensity regional hub.

Today, the landfill processes an average of 2,625 tons of waste per day. Approximately 30 percent of that waste—about 772 tons per day—is already imported from outside Orange County, primarily from Los Angeles County. Over the course of a year, that equates to hundreds of thousands of tons of out-of-county waste being brought into South Orange County.

The landfill is currently permitted to accept up to 4,000 tons per day and can legally import up to 1,840 tons per day under its existing permit.

The proposed expansion would double the permitted daily capacity to 8,000 tons per day, with peak days reaching up to 10,000 tons.

For residents, the practical effect is straightforward: a 100 percent increase in daily operational intensity.

And while that may sound like a planning number on paper, communities across the country have learned what that kind of increase really looks like.

In Los Angeles County, residents living near the Sunshine Canyon and Chiquita Canyon landfills were told that standard odor control measures—daily cover, gas collection, routine mitigation—would be sufficient. But as operations intensified, those systems struggled to keep up. At Chiquita Canyon alone, more than 29,000 odor complaints have been filed since 2023, leading to major fines and emergency orders to stop accepting waste in certain areas.

The lesson is simple: what works at one level of activity does not always work when intensity doubles.

Closer to home, that raises a fundamental question: if this expansion moves forward, should the County be required to implement more advanced, “abatement-level” technologies now—before problems begin—rather than reacting after the fact?

Those concerns are not theoretical. They are human.

At schools near major landfill operations, including Sunshine Canyon, administrators have reported students suffering from persistent coughing, nosebleeds, and ear infections tied to air quality conditions. There have been days when principals kept children indoors—not because of weather, but because of odors.

Here in South Orange County, San Juan Hills High School sits along the primary haul route for thousands of diesel trucks that would serve the expanded landfill.

The County’s analysis concludes that health risks are “less than significant,” but the margin is narrow—7.99 in one million, just below the threshold of 10. For many residents, the question is whether those numbers fully capture what repeated, real-world exposure looks like over time, especially for children.

The City of San Clemente has formally raised these concerns, arguing that the environmental analysis is too broad and does not reflect conditions along Avenida La Pata, where truck traffic will be concentrated. The City is calling for a more refined health risk assessment that accounts for prolonged exposure in nearby neighborhoods, cumulative pollution from other major projects, and weather patterns that can concentrate pollutants in ways that standard modeling may not capture.

In its formal comments, the City put it plainly: the County must evaluate whether this increase in intensity—by itself—could lead to more frequent or severe impacts on surrounding communities.

Air quality and emissions impacts are also expected to increase substantially. The County acknowledges that the project will result in “significant and unavoidable” impacts. Nitrogen oxide emissions are projected to reach levels nearly ten times higher than regional thresholds, while greenhouse gas emissions would exceed established limits by a wide margin.

Residents in nearby communities have already reported dust and black soot settling on their homes—conditions that could worsen as activity increases.

Traffic is another visible change. Nearly 3,000 heavy-duty truck trips per day are expected, traveling along Avenida La Pata, a key corridor for local neighborhoods. Beyond congestion and road wear, there are concerns about how that traffic could affect emergency response and evacuation in a wildfire scenario, especially given that the landfill sits within a Very High Fire Hazard Severity Zone.

Looking beyond California, other communities have also begun asking a different question: is expansion always the only option?

In Minnesota, a proposed landfill expansion was challenged by demonstrating that a large portion of the waste stream—nearly 70 percent—could be diverted through recycling and organic processing instead of being buried. That approach reframed the issue entirely, shifting the focus from expanding capacity to reducing demand.

Here in Orange County, where a significant portion of waste is imported and much of the remaining stream includes recoverable materials, some are asking whether similar alternatives deserve closer evaluation.

At the same time, communities across the country are increasingly turning to the courts when they feel regulatory systems fall short. In New York, residents near a major landfill have argued that even permitted operations can violate a basic right to clean air. In other cases, operators have faced legal settlements over nuisance conditions that were technically “within compliance” but still harmful to nearby residents.

The lesson from these cases is clear: regulatory approval does not always mean real-world impacts are acceptable.

Perhaps the most important takeaway is accountability.

In Ohio, one community created a standardized system to track odor complaints using real-time mapping and clear severity rankings. That level of transparency helped identify patterns and hold operators accountable in a way that traditional complaint systems often do not.

For San Clemente and San Juan Capistrano, these experiences from other communities offer a preview of what can happen—and what can be required—before problems escalate.

Another key question being raised locally is whether the scale of this expansion is truly necessary.

Under California law, the County is only required to demonstrate 15 years of landfill capacity. According to its own data, that requirement is already being met. The proposed increase to 8,000 tons per day is a discretionary decision designed to create a much larger long-term buffer.

Critics argue that this approach effectively trades a long-term regional convenience for a long-term local burden, placing the impacts of a 75-year solution disproportionately on one community: ours.

At the same time, questions remain about imported waste. If Orange County already meets its capacity requirements, residents are asking why large volumes of trash continue to be brought in from outside the county.

We should be calling for the County to eliminate the current import allowance of 1,840 tons per day before approving any expansion, and to explore ways to distribute waste more evenly between the County’s remaining landfills.

This is not a temporary decision.

As the regional system contracts from three landfills to two, San Clemente and San Juan Capistrano are being asked to absorb a disproportionate share of the County’s waste impacts—potentially for the next 70 years.

For residents, the most important point is this: the time to engage is now.

Decisions about landfill operations are made at the County level, which makes it critical for residents to share their concerns with County Supervisor Karina Foley, who currently supports the expansion, as well as with local city officials.

This is a defining moment for the community.

The experiences of other communities make one thing clear: once intensity increases, it is very difficult to reverse course.

The decisions made today will shape the quality of life, health, and safety of San Clemente and San Juan Capistrano for generations to come.

Cameron Cosgrove is a San Clemente resident with experience in land use and public service. He currently serves as Chair of the San Clemente Planning Commission. This article reflects his personal views.

Opinions expressed in community opinion pieces belong to the authors and not Voice of OC.

Voice of OC is interested in hearing different perspectives and voices. If you want to weigh in on this issue or others please email opinions@voiceofoc.org.