In February 2007, John Gormley introduced us to Planet Bertie. "On Planet Bertie there's a strange cult called Fianna Fáil, a type of religion without vision or values," Gormley told his party's convention.

"Planet Bertie is a very strange place. On a green version of Star Trek, they might say, 'It's life, Jim, but not as we Greens know it.'"

Three-and-a-half years down the line, another celestial entity is buzzing around politics. There's life on Planet Gormley, Jim, but not as we thought we knew it.

In the above speech, Gormley went on to contrast the moral standing of his party with Fianna Fáil's.

"The Green Party wants high standards in high places; not because we are particularly virtuous, but because strong ethical standards improve the quality of our democracy."

On Planet Gormley, high standards in high places are fine and dandy when you're in opposition, but don't get weighed down with them in power. On Planet Gormley, there's a strange cult called Nimby, a type of religion without vision or values. Planet Gormley is indeed a very strange place.

Gormley has done everything that he possibly can to undermine the construction of the Poolbeg incinerator since he was appointed minister for the environment. In doing so, he is refusing to pay the price of democratic power. His fellow TDs from the Dublin South East constituency are against the incinerator at Poolbeg, but they have the luxury of throwing Nimby shapes. Gormley is bound by his constitutional duty to act in the interests of the state, but in this case the state's interests conflict with his own. The manner in which he is dealing with the matter makes the scourge of Planet Bertie look like, well, a refugee from Planet Bertie.

In December 2008, after the EPA issued a licence to the facility's operator, Covanta, Gormley said: "My personal position as a local resident and public representative in regard to incineration generally and this facility in particular is well known and has not changed.

"However, as minister I work within a legal framework put in place by the Oireachtas which forbids my intervention."

Instead of direct intervention, he embarked on a campaign to undermine the project at every turn. The cost of his campaign is not yet known, but could include mounting EU fines, a possible legal action from Covanta, and a blow to relations with the US, from which the country attracts the majority of direct foreign investment.

The request by the US ambassador Dan Rooney for a meeting with Gormley about the issue brought it onto a higher plane. In the past, the US has attempted to leverage influence on Irish affairs in areas like the criminal justice system's dealings with drug offences. This is an example of a major power throwing its weight around in an effort to impose its values on a sovereign state.

The concern over the incinerator is from a different planet. Here, the Yanks are making representations on behalf of an American company, which was under the impression it was investing in a liberal democracy, one which had transparent laws and processes. Instead, it finds something more akin to a banana republic, where one powerful individual can undermine the whole apparatus of state.

Sending out that message at any time would be a serious matter. Doing so in the depths of a recession, when mobile capital has the whole world at its feet, beggars belief. On Planet Gormley, the cost to the state in money, reputation or jobs does not appear to register.

To be fair to him, he is in an awkward position. As a Green, he opposes the concept of incineration, unlike others who are making political hay from the Poolbeg facility. Fine Gael, for instance, now officially opposes incineration. The party was formerly a major supporter of the concept, but there is a second seat up for grabs in Dublin South East and cynicism is the dominating characteristic of opposition politics right now. What matters if the country is drowning in waste as long as the Blueshirts manage to get one over on Labour in a single constituency?

The whole opposition to the concept has little scientific basis. Thirty years ago, there were major questions over the safety of burning waste. Science has largely eliminated these concerns, but fears linger and are easily exploited. The Green Party uses scientific research to inform many of its policies. In the case of incineration – and nuclear power – the party is both isolated from its brethren in other European countries, and apparently stuck in a moment 30 years old.

Waste management in general is a hot political potato. Hence, the government handed over to local authorities the power to build waste facilities whatever the views of elected representatives. It was the perfect political move, in which no politician was responsible for anything. Now, when one facility doesn't suit a local TD with real power, heaven and earth are being moved to put the kibosh on it.

There are issues around the size of the proposed facility at Poolbeg. Originally, the incinerator was earmarked for a capacity of 320,000 tonnes per annum, but following a few false starts, Covanta was granted planning permission for a 600,000-tonne capacity. There are questions around whether the four Dublin local authorities will generate enough waste to feed the beast, as per contractual agreements.

Yet, in the final analysis, there is no getting away from Nimby. Would Gormley be undermining the project with the same vigour if the facility was bound for east Clare, or north Donegal, or the proverbial middle of nowhere? On Planet Gormley, the state must pay a high price to ensure the minister's backyard doesn't rise to smother his re-election plans.

That's life, Jim, but not as the Greens used to know it.