When a system that removes a daily burden works well, people stop seeing it at all, and only notice it when it fails, as with a missed pickup or a strike. Being able to ignore this work is a privilege of modern life. It also means the better the work is done, the less credit it gets.
"Throwing something away" feels like making it vanish, but discarded things always end up somewhere, and getting them there takes constant work. Before organized collection, trash simply went into the street and stayed there. Today a city's waste may have to be shipped beyond its own borders because it has no room left to dispose of it.
A lavishly consuming culture depends on a large, disciplined workforce that hauls away what it discards every day; without it a city becomes unlivable, fast. The more we buy and discard, the more our comfort rests on this hidden labor.
What a society throws away is a record of what it consumed and valued, and of the habits it takes for granted. Cities are literally built on old garbage, so their history lies underfoot, buried where nobody sees it.
Picking up trash is more dangerous than police or fire work, yet it gets little public notice and even less praise. How much respect a job gets depends on how visible and dramatic it seems, not on its risk or on how much the city needs it.