green

  • How’s your eco-guilt?

    planet earth globe in dark background
    (Photo by Simone Busatto)

    Are you doing your bit? Did you put the right plastic in the recycling bin? Was anyone watching? 

    This isn’t an eco post

    You’ll find plenty of eco-outrage on Facebook. This post isn’t about that. It’s about the effects of this reality on us. It’s about stress – that other elephant in the room. Just how much have we stored up – collectively – since industrialisation?

    Enough for a planet-sized shrink

    Some depressing words for you: deforestation, pollution, extinction, contamination. Don’t stop reading! What do they bring to your mind? 

    Feeling stressed yet?

    Not all of us are tree huggers or Attenborough wannabes. Some of us are lazy. Some of us just don’t care. Some even dismiss things like climate change as nonsense. But we all kinda know human life is degrading life on Planet Earth. 

    A spot of baggage? A Santa’s sack of baggage! No one became vegan in a vacuum. So many little acts these days are connected to the big fat – nearly extinct – elephant in the room. 

    When do you qualify for eco guilt?

    We all know about Greta Thunberg and her stolen future. OK, so the kids aren’t to blame. But when do you start being to blame? On your 18th birthday? Or do you have to be baby boomer or older?

    My parents are baby boomers, and they spent my entire childhood at CND and Greenpeace events. Does that give them a pardon? The irony is, Greta Thunberg’s stolen future idea causes ex-hippies far more guilt-ridden anguish than it does the likes of Donald Trump.

    The best starting point I can see is to begin by acknowledging to yourself that you don’t need to assume the burden of humankind’s environmental impact. You can care, but it’s not your fault. 

    That way, you’re far more likely to make a positive difference.

    While we’re on tricky eco topics, If We Go Local Do We End Up Divided?


  • Imagine your vote counted

    Person voting at a ballot box
    They all count (Photo by Element5 Digital)

    I voted last week. Local elections. Just local people with local issues. Nothing exciting for the outside world. But something unexpected and previously unknown happened… The candidate I voted for won. 

    Guess what, my vote counts

    My candidate didn’t just win – she won by a landslide. In that moment, it dawned on me. All my life, I had walked into polling stations with reverence. I knew how lucky I was to be able to vote. But I never actually thought my vote counted. 

    I have always voted in rural England, a place where politics barely exists. I realised in that moment that to vote in rural England is a bit like voting in Egypt. Yes, you can have a vote. Choose whomever you like. It makes no difference. 

    The Tory will always win

    Because the Tory will always win, I realised that even at the age of 40, I still hold that slightly disgruntled, apathetically accepting peasant’s attitude that someone else will always serve.

    I can get all the education I like. I can be as well-informed about the world as possible. But I will never enact decisions. The Tories do that for me. Them, and occasionally Labour. I’m merely a passenger. 

    What will you do with your power? 

    When the candidate I chose – The Green Party’s Diana Toynbee – won with 531 votes, taking 52.9% of the vote, I had a new sensation. I felt like the Muslim Brotherhood in post-revolution Egypt. Wow. We won? Now what do we do? 

    The act of responsibility, of actually being given the opportunity to make decisions, is a heady one, even by the proxy of representative democracy. When it happened, I realised how much potential is wasted when people like me spend most of their lives assuming they are voiceless. 

    Democracy is a great idea

    I could paraphrase Gandhi here. In England, democracy would be a great idea. If we could move on from the notion that the Tories simply run things – outside a few urban Labour areas – we might stop grumbling about them. 

    More importantly, we might learn the lesson the Muslim Brothers briefly learnt in Egypt. That running things is hard. Much harder than living in eternal, angry, impotent opposition to power. 

    Talking of votes, fancy another one on Brexit?