Pfandringe, Flaschensammler Etiquette, and the Berlin Streets Where 'Pfand Gehört Daneben' Began
A Pfandring is a metal ring or small holder fixed to the outside of a public trash bin so an empty deposit bottle sits visibly on top instead of buried in the rubbish, letting a bottle collector (Flaschensammler) take it without digging through garbage. SettledIn's guide to Berlin's Pfand system already covers why the city never built a citywide Pfandring network the way Cologne did, so this guide focuses on something more useful day to day: the actual etiquette of donating a bottle, and the fact that the whole 'Pfand gehört daneben' (deposit belongs next to it) movement now followed across Germany actually started right here. Around 2011, a Friedrichshain resident and advertising art director named Matthias Gomille began hanging halved beverage crates from lampposts near Görlitzer Bahnhof in Kreuzberg, on Sonntagstraße in Friedrichshain, and in Mauerpark in Prenzlauer Berg, explicitly to spare collectors what he called the demeaning work of digging through trash with their arms. The idea drew nearly 18,000 Facebook supporters and public endorsements from Berlin bands including Beatsteaks and Jennifer Rostock before spreading to Hamburg, Munich, and beyond, even as Berlin's own BSR rejected the campaign outright over littering and injury concerns. Practically, doing this well is less about hunting for a ring and more about a few small habits: leave the bottle upright and to the side, keep the cap screwed on rather than loose, don't crush it, and walk on rather than lingering to watch it get collected.
The Official Rule
There isn’t an official rule here so much as an origin story most people never hear, and a set of small habits that matter more than any piece of hardware. A Pfandring is a metal ring or small holder fixed to the outside of a public bin, letting an empty deposit bottle sit visibly on top instead of getting buried in the trash, so a bottle collector, a Flaschensammler, can take it without digging through garbage. SettledIn’s main guide to Berlin’s Pfand system already explains why the city never built a citywide network of these, tracing it back to BSR’s failed 2014-2015 pilot at Hardenbergplatz and Spandau. What that guide doesn’t cover is where the whole idea of donating a bottle in the first place actually began, and it began here, on a handful of Berlin lampposts, well before any city agency got involved.
| Location | Kiez / Bezirk | What happened there |
|---|---|---|
| Görlitzer Bahnhof | Kreuzberg | One of the first "Pfand gehört daneben" lamppost crates, around 2011 |
| Sonntagstraße | Friedrichshain | Early crate installation from the same original campaign |
| Mauerpark | Prenzlauer Berg | Early crate installation from the same original campaign |
| Hardenbergplatz (Zoo) | Charlottenburg | BSR's own 2014 pilot boxes, covered in SettledIn's Berlin Pfand guide |
| Districtwide proposal | Pankow | Left Party-backed bin-container plan, January 2013, stalled |
Where “Pfand Gehört Daneben” Actually Began
Munich’s and Hamburg’s own SettledIn guides both mention Matthias Gomille as the person behind “Pfand gehört daneben,” the sticker-and-crate campaign that eventually reached both cities, but neither says where he actually lived and worked. He was, and as far as the record shows still is, a Berliner: a 30-year-old advertising art director based in Friedrichshain who started the whole thing around 2011, roughly a year before it drew wider press coverage. His method was almost aggressively simple. He and early supporters cut beverage crates in half and cable-tied them to lampposts near Görlitzer Bahnhof in Kreuzberg, on Sonntagstraße in Friedrichshain, and in Mauerpark in Prenzlauer Berg, three Kieze that had nothing in common administratively but everything in common as places where empty bottles piled up fast.
Gomille’s own explanation, reported by Berliner Zeitung, was blunt about why this mattered more than it might sound: collectors were reaching arm-deep into public bins, sometimes past broken glass, to retrieve bottles worth a few cents each, and he called that plainly demeaning. The campaign’s Facebook page drew close to 18,000 supporters, and Berlin bands including Beatsteaks and Jennifer Rostock lent their names to it publicly, alongside original songs written for the cause. Berlin’s own waste authority, BSR, wasn’t on board, rejecting the whole premise on the grounds that loose bottles on the street were a littering and injury risk rather than a courtesy, the same institutional instinct that would later doom its own Hardenbergplatz pilot. The idea spread anyway, reaching Hamburg, Munich, Oberhausen, Cologne, and beyond, all while its actual birthplace stayed a set of ordinary Berlin lampposts rather than any city program.
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels
The Etiquette Nobody Actually Explains
Knowing the history is one thing; doing this well day to day is a different, much smaller set of habits, and it has almost nothing to do with whether a Pfandring happens to be nearby. Keep the cap screwed on rather than loose or removed. A loose cap on a single-use bottle makes it awkward for a collector to carry without spilling, and it can cause a Rückgabeautomat to reject the bottle outright once they try to redeem it, the same logic behind the general German habit, also confirmed in t-online’s consumer reporting, of returning bottles with their caps left on. You don’t need to rinse the bottle thoroughly, just tip out whatever liquid is left so it doesn’t drip on someone’s hands or bag.
Set the bottle upright, not lying on its side, so it can’t roll into traffic or spill what’s left in it, and place it beside or on top of the bin rather than balanced somewhere it might tip and break, especially with glass. Don’t crush single-use plastic bottles either; a crushed bottle can fail the shape scanner at a reverse vending machine even after a collector goes to redeem it, turning a good intention into wasted effort for them. And the detail that matters most, one Gomille’s own framing points straight at: this works best as a small, quiet courtesy rather than a visible act of charity. Set the bottle down cleanly and walk on. Don’t linger to watch it get taken, and don’t insist on handing a bottle directly to someone who hasn’t indicated they want that kind of exchange. Bottle collecting is real work with real, if modest, income behind it, and treating the gesture as basic courtesy toward someone working, rather than a favor extended to someone in need, is the entire difference Gomille was originally trying to create.
Berlin’s Other Small, Mostly Forgotten Attempts
Gomille’s crates weren’t the only informal push Berlin ever made on this, just the one that actually stuck in public memory. In January 2013, Pankow’s district assembly considered its own version of a bin-mounted bottle container, championed by the local Left Party group with the Greens and Pirates on board, running in parallel to a separate, better-known 2012 proposal in Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf. Left Party spokesperson Matthias Zarbock argued the health risks collectors faced digging through bins made action overdue, echoing almost exactly what Gomille had said a year before. Neither the Pankow nor the Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf pushes, nor BSR’s own later Hardenbergplatz pilot, ever scaled into a lasting citywide fixture, a pattern this guide’s companion piece on Berlin’s Pfand system covers in more depth. What’s carried Berlin through the gap instead has always been closer to Gomille’s original idea than to any of these official attempts: a habit, not a piece of hardware.
Step by Step
- Don't go looking for a citywide Pfandring in Berlin. SettledIn's Berlin Pfand guide covers why BSR's own pilot never scaled up; the etiquette here matters more than finding a specific ring.
- Set your bottle upright, beside or on top of the bin, not inside it. This is the entire original idea behind "Pfand gehört daneben," and it works at any bin in the city.
- Leave the cap screwed on and don't crush the bottle. Both make it easier for a collector to carry and later redeem it without a machine rejecting it.
- If you're near Görlitzer Bahnhof, Sonntagstraße, or Mauerpark, know that you're standing where the whole movement began, even if the original crates themselves are long gone by now.
- Be quiet about it. Walk on rather than watching the bottle get collected, and don't insist on a direct hand-off unless a collector clearly welcomes it.
- For a larger batch of bottles, SettledIn's Berlin Pfand guide covers Sozialhelden e.V.'s PFANDGEBEN deposit islands running year-round in ordinary parks, a more reliable option than leaving a large batch beside a single bin.
Compliance Note
This page describes informal donation etiquette and small-scale historical and district-level attempts in Berlin, current as of mid-2026, not a citywide program or legal requirement. The current physical condition of the original Görlitzer Bahnhof, Sonntagstraße, and Mauerpark installations, and the final outcome of Pankow’s 2013 proposal, could not be independently confirmed at the time of writing.
FAQ & Common Pitfalls
Did 'Pfand gehört daneben' actually start in Berlin?
Yes, and it's worth knowing since guides to Munich and Hamburg both reference the movement without saying where it began. Around 2011, Matthias Gomille, a 30-year-old advertising art director living in Friedrichshain, started hanging halved beverage crates from lampposts as makeshift collection points, explicitly so bottle collectors wouldn't have to dig through trash. According to Berliner Zeitung's reporting on the campaign, Gomille put it plainly: bottle collectors rummaging through bins with their arms deep in garbage, sometimes reaching past broken glass, is demeaning, and the entire point of his idea was to remove that indignity with something as simple as where a bottle gets set down. The idea drew nearly 18,000 Facebook supporters and public backing from Berlin bands including Beatsteaks and Jennifer Rostock before it spread to Hamburg, Munich, Cologne, and several other German cities.
Are the original Görlitzer Bahnhof, Sonntagstraße, and Mauerpark bottle crates still there?
Almost certainly not in their original form, and it's honest to say so rather than send anyone looking. These were unofficial, cable-tied installations put up around 2011 by a private individual, not a maintained city program, and even Munich's and Hamburg's SettledIn guides describe the same pattern elsewhere in Germany: unmaintained street installations tend to have a limited shelf life, sometimes just weeks. Well over a decade on, the historical significance of Görlitzer Bahnhof in Kreuzberg, Sonntagstraße in Friedrichshain, and Mauerpark in Prenzlauer Berg is that this is where the whole movement began, not that you should expect to find a working crate there today.
What's the actual etiquette, cap on or off, and does the bottle need rinsing?
Keep the cap screwed on rather than loose or removed. A loose or missing cap makes a single-use bottle harder for a collector to carry without spilling and can cause a Rückgabeautomat to reject it later, the same reasoning behind the general German convention, also covered by t-online's consumer reporting, of returning bottles with their caps on. You don't need to scrub it out, just tip out any leftover liquid so it doesn't drip. Beyond that, set the bottle upright rather than on its side, so it doesn't roll into the street or spill what's left in it, and avoid crushing single-use plastic bottles, since a crushed bottle can fail the shape scan at a reverse vending machine even after a collector redeems it.
Isn't leaving a bottle out for someone to collect a bit patronizing?
The framing that seems to land best, including in Gomille's own account of why he started the campaign, is that this is basic courtesy toward someone doing a job, not charity toward someone in need. Bottle collecting is real, if modest, income, and treating the gesture as a small convenience you're extending, the way you might hold a door, rather than a favor you're granting, tends to keep it from feeling like pity. In practice, that mostly means discretion: set the bottle down cleanly and walk on rather than lingering to watch it get taken, and never insist on handing a bottle directly to someone who hasn't indicated they want that kind of interaction.
Beyond Gomille's original crates, has any part of Berlin tried something more official at a small scale?
Yes, though it's a smaller and less-known story than the BSR pilot at Hardenbergplatz covered in SettledIn's main Berlin Pfand guide. In January 2013, Pankow's district assembly considered a proposal, backed by the Left Party's local group with support from the Greens and Pirates, to fit bin-mounted bottle containers across the district, running in parallel to a separate, better-known push the same year in Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf. Left Party spokesperson Matthias Zarbock framed it in the same terms Gomille had used a year earlier, arguing it was overdue given the health risks collectors already faced digging through bins. Like nearly every other Berlin attempt at physical bottle-holder infrastructure, it never scaled into anything citywide or permanent.
