Electric composters have been popping up in my ads and feeds for over a year now so we dug deep to see how they compare. These are countertop appliances designed to process food scraps using heat, agitation, and airflow. Their purpose is to reduce the volume, moisture, and smell of kitchen waste and turn it into a dry, fine, soil-like material in a matter of hours rather than weeks or months. Most of these machines produce what is best described as pre-compost rather than finished compost.

It is important to be clear about what these machines are not. They do not create living compost with active microbial life the way a traditional outdoor compost pile does. Because electric composters rely on heat and drying, the output is largely sterile. That does not make it useless. It simply means the material benefits from time in soil, pots, garden beds, or a traditional compost system, where it continues breaking down naturally.

The real value of electric composters is convenience. If you cook regularly, especially if you prepare a lot of fruits and vegetables, these machines keep scraps out of your trash, reduce odors, and turn messy food waste into something clean and easy to handle. They use electricity, but many people find the tradeoff worthwhile because they reduce landfill waste and make it easier to return organic matter to soil over time.

Benefits of electric composters

• They reduce food waste volume dramatically, often close to ninety percent depending on the scraps and the cycle used.
• They reduce odors because food scraps are processed quickly instead of sitting and decomposing.
• They make food waste diversion possible for people without outdoor space.
• The dry output can be scattered on soil, mixed into garden beds, or added to outdoor compost piles where it continues breaking down.
• They simplify daily cleanup for people who cook often and generate steady produce scraps.

Below are some of the common and better rated brands you’ll find. One quick note on pricing: these reflect approximate ranges at the time this article was published. Prices may change due to promotions so they should be considered indicative rather than fixed.

Reencle Prime Electric Composter, 14 liter capacity, about $500 to $550. This is a high-capacity countertop composter designed for households that generate a lot of food waste. With a 14 liter bin, it allows for fewer cycles and less frequent emptying, which makes a noticeable difference if you cook often. Odor control is built in, noise levels are relatively low for its size, and the output is a dry pre compost material that continues breaking down once added to soil. This model is best suited to people who value capacity and convenience more than a low upfront price.

FoodCycler Eco 5, 5 liter capacity, about $400 to $450. At five liters, this sits between standard small countertop units and much larger machines. The extra capacity reduces how often the bin needs to be emptied compared with four liter models. It uses the same heat-based drying and grinding process as most electric composters and produces the same type of pre compost output. This size works well for people who cook frequently but do not want the footprint or price of very large units.

Vego Kitchen Composter, 4 liter capacity, about $300 to $350. Four liters is often the most practical size for everyday kitchen use. This machine reduces food scraps into a fine, dry material and includes odor control through filters. The capacity is large enough for regular cooking without constant emptying, while still fitting comfortably on a countertop. This size category is often the best balance between usability and cost for one to two people who cook regularly.

RESKIU Electric Kitchen Composter, 2.5 liter capacity, about $200 to $250. This is a compact electric composter intended for lighter daily use. With a 2.5 liter capacity, it works best for individuals or couples and for kitchens where space is limited. The technology and output are essentially the same as larger heat-based machines, but the smaller size means you will run cycles more often. The lower price and small footprint make it a sensible entry point into this category.

Many other three to four liter countertop composters fall into the same general category as the models above. Internally, most of them work in nearly identical ways. The meaningful differences tend to be capacity, build quality, noise level, filter availability, and price rather than the core technology itself.

I personally use a three liter electric kitchen composter in the videos just here above. It is not available in the United States but is most comparable to the three to four liter machines listed here. I cook regularly and prepare a lot of fruits and vegetables. Even though it is not traditional compost, I genuinely enjoy what it produces. It creates a fine, dry mulch that I scatter directly on top of my potted plants, where it slowly breaks down and becomes part of the soil. For me, it reduces waste, keeps my garden clean without bins of waste rotting with flies, and makes it easy to turn food scraps into something that goes straight back into my plants. It also makes essentially no noise and fits easily into my daily cooking routine.

Overall recommendations:

If you want a high-capacity option and cook often, the Reencle Prime at 14 liters is the best choice here. It is quite large though. The the bigger bin means fewer cycles, less handling, and a smoother daily experience if you generate a lot of food waste.

If you want the best overall value for most households, a four liter countertop machine like the Vego is the most sensible option. It offers enough capacity for regular cooking, costs significantly less than large units, and performs the same core function as other heat-based composters.

If you cook lightly or want the smallest footprint and lowest cost, compact units around 2.5 to 3 liters do the same job, just with more frequent cycles.

For generations, fishing along Tunisia’s coast has been both livelihood and identity. From the shallow tidal flats of the Gulf of Gabès to the small ports of Sfax, Kerkennah, and Mahdia, the sea once offered a reliable rhythm. Fishermen knew the seasons, the winds, and the species that would arrive and depart each year. That knowledge shaped not only income, but family life, food traditions, and entire coastal cultures.

Today, that rhythm is breaking down. Tunisian fishermen are facing a convergence of pressures that few communities are equipped to absorb. Climate change is altering weather patterns and sea conditions faster than local knowledge can adapt. Fish stocks are declining or shifting their ranges. At the same time, destructive bottom trawling has expanded into coastal waters, undermining both ecosystems and the economic viability of small scale fishing.

Together, these forces are eroding a centuries old relationship between people and sea.

A Coast Shaped by Small Scale Fishing

Tunisia’s fishing history is deeply tied to artisanal practices. With more than 1,300 kilometres of Mediterranean coastline, the country developed one of the largest small scale fishing fleets in the region. The vast majority of Tunisian fishing vessels are small boats operating close to shore, using nets, traps, and fixed gear designed to work with coastal ecosystems rather than against them.

In places like the Kerkennah Islands, fishing traditions such as the charfia system were refined over centuries. Wooden barriers and palm fronds guided fish into enclosures using tides and seasonal movements. These methods depended on healthy seagrass meadows, predictable spawning cycles, and intact coastal habitats. They also reflected a deep understanding of ecological limits.

By the early 2000s, fishing supported tens of thousands of Tunisian families directly and many more through processing, transport, and trade. Fish was both a staple food and an important export, especially to European markets.

That balance is now under strain.

Climate Change Reaches the Docks

The Mediterranean Sea is warming faster than the global ocean average. Rising sea surface temperatures have intensified marine heatwaves, altered currents, and increased the frequency of extreme weather events. For fishermen working in small boats, these changes are not abstract trends. They translate into lost days at sea, damaged equipment, and growing danger.

Fishermen across Tunisia report longer periods of bad weather and storms that arrive with little warning. Conditions that once followed seasonal patterns are now unpredictable. Autumn and winter storms are stronger and more erratic, making it harder to plan fishing trips or ensure safe returns.

Research by international fisheries and climate bodies shows that weather related disruptions already affect fishing activity for a significant portion of the year, particularly in northern and central Tunisia. The risks are highest for artisanal fishermen, whose boats lack the size, shelter, and safety systems of industrial fleets.

In some cases, these risks have been fatal. Storm related sinkings in recent years underscore how climate change is increasing the human cost of fishing in the Mediterranean.

A Sea Rich in Life, and Increasingly Fragile

Beneath Tunisia’s coastal waters lies one of the Mediterranean’s most ecologically important regions. The Gulf of Gabès is unique due to its shallow depth and tidal range, which support vast meadows of Posidonia oceanica seagrass. These underwater forests are among the most productive ecosystems in the sea.

Posidonia meadows act as nurseries for fish, feeding grounds for invertebrates, and carbon sinks that help regulate the climate. Hundreds of marine species depend on them at some stage of their life cycle, including species of commercial importance and others already considered threatened.

Tunisia’s waters also host migratory species, sea turtles, dolphins, and endemic organisms found nowhere else. This biodiversity has long supported artisanal fishing, allowing small scale gear to yield steady catches without exhausting stocks.

However, climate change is weakening this ecological foundation. Warmer waters affect reproduction, oxygen levels, and species distribution. Some fish are migrating north or into deeper waters. Others are declining as habitats degrade.

These changes alone would challenge fishermen. Combined with destructive fishing practices, they become devastating.

The Rise of Bottom Trawling in Coastal Waters

Over the past decade, bottom trawling known locally as kys fishing has expanded dramatically along Tunisia’s coast. Using heavy nets dragged across the seabed, these vessels capture everything in their path. The method is highly efficient in the short term and highly destructive in the long term.

Bottom trawling damages seagrass meadows, disturbs sediments, releases stored carbon, and destroys the complex structures that support marine life. It also tears through the nets and traps used by artisanal fishermen, causing direct economic losses.

Although bottom trawling is regulated under Tunisian law and Mediterranean fisheries agreements, enforcement has struggled to keep pace with its spread. Legal ambiguities, limited monitoring capacity, and misclassification of vessels have allowed trawlers to operate in areas where they are restricted or banned.

In regions such as Sfax and the Gulf of Gabès, the number of kys trawlers has increased sharply since the early 2010s. Many fishermen attribute this rise to declining catches from traditional methods and economic pressure following political and social upheaval after 2011.

The result is a vicious cycle. As trawlers degrade habitats and reduce fish stocks, artisanal fishermen see their catches fall. Some abandon fishing altogether. Others feel compelled to adopt destructive methods themselves, even as they recognise the long term damage.

Economic Stakes Beyond the Shore

Fishing remains economically significant for Tunisia. Annual production reaches well over one hundred thousand tonnes, with a substantial portion exported. European markets are particularly important, making sustainability and traceability critical for trade.

Illegal and indiscriminate fishing practices threaten that relationship. International partners have raised concerns about bottom trawling and enforcement gaps, warning that continued violations could jeopardise exports and reputational standing.

Tunisian authorities have increased inspections, seizures, and surveillance in recent years, and have acknowledged both progress and limitations. With a long coastline and limited resources, oversight remains uneven.

Meanwhile, coastal communities bear the consequences first.

Lives Caught in the Middle

On the docks, the impacts are deeply personal. Fishermen speak of species that once fed families now becoming luxuries. Octopus, once affordable and common, has become scarce and expensive. Younger fishermen hesitate to invest in boats or start families, unsure whether the sea can still provide a future.

Older fishermen recall a time when knowledge of tides, winds, and seasons was enough to make a living. Today, even experience cannot offset degraded ecosystems and unpredictable conditions.

The loss is not only economic. It is cultural. As fishing becomes less viable, traditions tied to food, language, and community risk fading with it.

An Uncertain Horizon

Tunisia’s fishermen are navigating a narrow passage between climate change and industrial pressure. Protecting their future will require more than enforcement alone. It will demand rebuilding marine ecosystems, supporting small scale adaptation, and recognising that artisanal fishing is not a problem to be replaced, but a solution worth preserving.

The sea still holds life. Whether it can continue to sustain those who have depended on it for generations depends on choices made now, before the tide turns further against them.

Sources and References

Arab Reporters for Investigative Journalism. Climate Change Deepens the Struggles of Tunisia’s Fishermen, as “Kys” Trawlers Boats Steal Their Livelihoods. 

Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations. Mediterranean fisheries assessments and Tunisia country profiles.

Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. Sixth Assessment Report. Mediterranean regional impacts.

Environmental Justice Foundation. Reports on bottom trawling and seafloor carbon release in Tunisia.

General Fisheries Commission for the Mediterranean. Technical regulations and Gulf of Gabès management measures.

UNEP Mediterranean Action Plan. Coastal ecosystems and climate vulnerability.

International Union for Conservation of Nature. Mediterranean biodiversity and Posidonia oceanica assessments.

Mongabay. Investigative reporting on illegal trawling and seagrass loss in the Gulf of Gabès.

Giacomo Abrusci, SEVENSEAS Media

By Mark J. Spalding, President, The Ocean Foundation

On January 7, 2026, the United States withdrew from sixty-six international commitments. Among them were two bodies of work I have spent significant portions of my career helping to build: the North American Commission for Environmental Cooperation and UN Oceans. As I absorbed the news, I felt something between grief and vertigo—the sensation of watching structures I helped construct over decades being dismantled with the stroke of a pen.

To me, these are not abstract policy frameworks. They represent thousands of hours of negotiation, relationship-building, and painstaking diplomatic work. They represent friendships forged across borders and the hard-won trust of colleagues in dozens of countries who believed that when America committed, it meant something.

The NAFTA Side Agreements: Building Guardrails on Capitalism

In 1992, I was a young, freshly minted international relations specialist with my JD already in hand, working as an international environmental law intern for the Natural Resources Defense Council. Part of that work was advising the transition team for the Clinton-Gore administration on what became a signature achievement: the side agreements to the North American Free Trade Agreement that would protect environmental and labor standards even as trade barriers fell.

I was not the architect of these agreements, nor their primary author. But I contributed over many years to shaping both the North American Commission for Environmental Cooperation and the North American Development Bank into something meaningful—institutions that provided guardrails on capitalism via free trade, even as that trade was designed to deepen multinational integration, reduce unnecessary competition, strengthen diplomatic relations, and help avoid conflict.

The Commission for Environmental Cooperation was never perfect. What international institution is? But it represented something important: the recognition that economic integration without environmental protection would be a hollow victory. It embodied the principle that prosperity and environmental stewardship could advance together—that we need not sacrifice one for the other.

Now, thirty-four years of institutional development have been abandoned. The message to our neighbors in Mexico and Canada is unmistakable: American commitments are provisional. American partnerships are capricious. American leadership is a thing of the past.

UN Oceans: A System That Is Working

Like so many of us in international ocean conservation, we have been deeply involved in UN Oceans. I have been fortunate to have been engaged with many aspects of UN Sustainable Development Goal 14, the blue economy, the ocean-climate nexus, and ocean science diplomacy. The Ocean Foundation staff have been represented at all three UN Ocean Conferences as panel organizers, speakers, and advocates. As important, so too have been those whose presence we have been able to sponsor—adding key voices to the conversation.

For the UN Decade of Ocean Science for Sustainable Development, I believe I’ve played a positive role in furthering philanthropic cooperation and coordination through the Foundations Dialogue. I served on the U.S. National Committee for the Decade of Ocean Science for Sustainable Development at the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine. The Ocean Foundation’s work on Underwater Cultural Heritage was recognized by the Decade.

Here is what makes this withdrawal particularly painful: the international system is working. The UN Convention on the Law of the Sea—part of UN Oceans—provides the foundational framework for ocean governance. And we are in a time of genuine progress.

For example, the world’s nations reached an agreement on the high seas—the 65% of our ocean that lies beyond the boundaries of any country. On January 17, the Biodiversity Beyond National Jurisdiction (BBNJ) Treaty will enter into force, creating the first international framework for protecting marine biodiversity in areas beyond national jurisdiction. Separately, negotiations are underway for an international treaty on plastics—a critical step towards addressing this problem in our seamless global ocean and in coastal and island nations worldwide. Likewise, we celebrate the elimination of harmful fisheries subsidies, a decades-long effort that will help restore depleted fish stocks worldwide. Finally, most nations are moving toward a moratorium on seabed mining, recognizing the profound risks of industrializing the deep ocean before we understand what we would destroy.

Is the international system without flaws? Of course not. Are the negotiation processes with nearly 200 nations slow and occasionally frustrating? Yes. Are we succeeding in protecting the ocean? Yes, we are making genuine, measurable progress. And we are doing it through precisely the kind of multilateral cooperation that America has now chosen to abandon.

The Cost of Isolation

There is a particular kind of political rhetoric that frames international engagement as weakness—as if cooperation with other nations somehow diminishes American sovereignty. This framing has it exactly backwards. 

When you have a seat at the table, you have a voice. When you abandon that seat, you don’t gain independence; you lose influence. The decisions still get made. The rules still get written. The rules still apply to everyone. You simply no longer have any say in what they contain.

Consider which nations refuse to participate in international cooperation: North Korea, Syria under Assad, and Russia. These are the pariah states, not models of sovereignty. By withdrawing from the community of nations, we are not putting America first. We are self-selecting for isolation before anyone has even asked us to leave. We are voluntarily surrendering the leadership position that generations of American diplomats built and generations of Americans have fought to defend.

And for what? The ocean doesn’t recognize borders. Migratory fish don’t carry passports. Climate change affects every coastline. Plastic pollution circulates through every ocean basin. The challenges we face are inherently international because the ocean is intrinsically shared. Walking away from international cooperation doesn’t make these problems disappear. It simply ensures that we will have no voice in how they are addressed.

The Personal Cost

I have spent nearly four decades building international partnerships for ocean conservation. I have worked in over 130 countries. I have built relationships with scientists, policymakers, and advocates around the world—relationships grounded in the assumption that American engagement could be counted upon, that our word meant something, that when we signed an agreement, we intended to honor it.

Those relationships don’t disappear overnight. But they are now clouded by uncertainty. When I meet with colleagues from other nations, I can see the question in their eyes: Can we still count on you? Can we still count on America? I don’t have a good answer.

What I can say is that The Ocean Foundation’s work continues. The ocean doesn’t care about American electoral cycles. The need for conservation doesn’t pause while we sort out our domestic politics. We will continue to advocate for marine protection, to build capacity in coastal communities worldwide, and to advance the science and policy that healthy oceans require.

But make no mistake: this withdrawal makes our work harder. It undermines American credibility. It signals to the world that American commitments are conditional, our partnerships are unreliable, and our leadership is up for grabs. Other nations will fill the void. They always do.

Refusing to Stop

I find myself thinking about the 1928 Kellogg-Briand Pact—that often-overlooked but pivotal moment that sought to outlaw war for the pursuit of territory and transform international relations. It was imperfect. It did not prevent the catastrophe that followed a decade later. But it changed the conversation. 

The Pact represented something essential: the aspiration toward a world order based on cooperation rather than conflict, on law rather than force. It was a foundation upon which the post-war international system was built—a foundation that increased prosperity, including our own. 

Nearly 250 years ago, the Declaration of Independence laid the groundwork for governance that was more representative, had more checks and balances, and aimed for greater equality than any constitutional monarchy or other governance model at the time. Over the following decades, that document and subsequently the US Constitution were the gold standard for global change from colonialism to more democratic institutions. 

We are in danger of squandering that inheritance. The institutions we are abandoning were built by American leadership, often at American insistence. They reflect American values—or at least, values that America once claimed as its own. The decision to walk away from them is not a return to some imagined golden age of unfettered sovereignty. It is a retreat from responsibility, a surrender of influence, a gift to those who would prefer a world without American leadership.

But those principles remain in force. They can be upheld. January 7th did not mark the end of international engagement. The work of ocean conservation continues, with or without official American participation. The international community will adapt, as it always does. And those of us who believe in the importance of global cooperation will keep building, keep advocating, keep showing up at the table even when our government chooses to stay home.

The ocean has taught us patience. It has taught us that change happens slowly, then suddenly. It has taught us that even the most powerful forces eventually meet their match. The tide will turn again. When it does, we can be ready because we will still be here.

—

Mark J. Spalding is President of The Ocean Foundation, which he has led for twenty-three years. He serves on the U.S. National Committee for the Decade of Ocean Science for Sustainable Development and has worked on international ocean policy for nearly four decades.