The UK government has now identified six illegal waste dumps across England for taxpayer-funded clearance — three announced in March (including Wigan's Bickershaw site, Sheffield, and Hyndburn in Lancashire, totalling 48,000 tonnes) and three more this week in Bradford, Runnymede, and the Isle of Sheppey (22,000 tonnes). A seventh site in Kidlington, Oxfordshire, is already being cleared at a cost exceeding £9m for its 20,000 tonnes alone. The bill for all of this goes to the public. Normally, the cost of clearing illegal sites on private land falls on the landowner. The political backdrop is revealing. Andy Burnham won a byelection in Makerfield earlier this year, where voters told the Guardian they would vote for him specifically to get the notorious local dump cleared. That site — a rotting, rat-infested mountain of waste — has remained for more than 20 months. Locals say they have seen little improvement since its March clean-up designation. Burnham is now the minister announcing new sites, making this both policy and personal political capital. The enforcement record tells the real story. The Environment Agency has made 42 site visits, suspended or revoked 17 permits, and launched more than 30 criminal investigations. In February, waste crime ringleader Varun Datta was ordered to pay £1.4m after conviction for organised illegal dumping at 16 sites, including a historic manor house and a nature reserve in Lancashire. A BBC investigation uncovered 11 "supersites" containing more than 20,000 tonnes each. Hundreds of illegal waste sites have been reported across England. The scale dwarfs the enforcement response. The prevention package includes 33 AI-powered drones fitted with LiDAR technology, a fine increase from £300 to £5,000 for illegal dumping, potential imprisonment of up to 51 weeks for operators who ignore shutdown orders, community service of up to 20 hours for fly-tippers, penalty points on driving licences, and public naming-and-shaming of illegal operators. The government is also working with the insurance industry to create policies covering farmers and landowners against the cost of illegally dumped waste on their land. The EA receives an additional £45m over three years for enforcement. The structural problem remains untouched. Waste crime is profitable because disposal is expensive, regulation is porous, and penalties have been trivially low. The £300-to-£5,000 fine increase is a 16× jump that still represents a rounding error against the profits of organised dumping networks operating across dozens of sites. Datta's £1.4m penalty across 16 sites works out to roughly £87,500 per site — against the £9m-plus cost of cleaning just one site in Kidlington. The economics still favour the criminal. Communities not selected for cleanup are already frustrated. Charlie Coats, chairman of Highnam Parish Council, called the EA "singularly unhelpful" after a supersite in Over, Gloucestershire — where 30-50 vehicles per day were dumping at peak — was excluded from the action plan. A fire at the site in June 2025 largely ceased operations, but the site remains open. The selection criteria — scale, community risk, environmental damage, and links to organised crime — create winners and losers among communities living with the same problem. Environment Secretary Emma Reynolds said waste criminals would "face the full consequence" of their actions. EA chief executive Philip Duffy said the response needed to "move up a gear." The gap between that rhetoric and the maths — hundreds of sites, single-digit clearances, fines that remain a fraction of criminal profits — is where the real story lives.