Showing posts with label George Monbiot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label George Monbiot. Show all posts

Thursday, March 28, 2024

The Joy of Six 1216

Sian Norris meets the Polish activists supporting Ukrainian women fleeing war horrors.

"We are in the midst of a major shift in the way we think about mental distress, away from unproven theories about 'chemical imbalances' or genetic flaws and towards a closer look at the circumstances of people’s lives." Lucy Johnstone on changing understandings of mental distress.

"The justification for early boarding is based on a massive but common misconception. Because physical hardship in childhood makes you physically tough, the founders of the system believed that emotional hardship must make you emotionally tough. It does the opposite. It causes psychological damage that only years of love and therapy can later repair." George Monbiot makes the case against sending young children to boarding school.

Owen Hatherley argues that it's possible to provide social housing at scale without making the design mistakes of the past.

"Many venues have their time in the sun as the place to see new bands on the up, but then their roles roles change - covers and pub rock bands might not be my cup of tea, but they perform an important function for everyone involved." Luke Turner says we must value music venues for what they are, not as stops on the road to fame.  

Kevin Sturton marks the 40th anniversary of Robin of Sherwood with a post on The King’s Fool, the final episode in series 1. It subverts the traditional telling of the encounter between Robin Hood and Richard the Lionheart in Sherwood Forest.

Monday, July 10, 2023

Dartmoor: Doubling Wistman's Wood in size is not remotely enough

They found themselves speaking in whispers as they came to the wood. There was no mistaking it for neither of the girls had seen anything like it before. The stunted oaks were not only growing out of the clitter of loose rocks but their branches sprawled out across the boulders, and rocks and trees alike were covered with a thick, grey moss.

"What's it like, Peter?" Jenny whispered. "It reminds me of something."

"Sleeping Beauty, Jen. Before the Prince kissed the Princess. I hate these trees with their clutching fingers. It's like the wood that poor little Snow White ran through in that film."

That's from Where's My Girl, the 19th and penultimate of Malcolm Saville's Lone Pine Club stories. It's fair to say the series was showing its age by then, as Peter and Jenny don't sound much like teenagers from 1972.

Still 'clitter' is a nice word. I had to look it up, and it means (though not on Urban Dictionary) 'a mass of loose stones'.

Saville was describing Wistman's Wood on Dartmoor, which has been in the news recently.

Last week the Guardian reported that:

Prince William plans to double the size of a tiny fragment of rainforest on his Dartmoor estate, the Duchy of Cornwall has announced.

Wistman’s Wood is one of Britain’s remaining ancient 'temperate rainforests', brought into the public eye after environmental campaigner Guy Shrubsole’s bestselling book on the subject.

But, as the report goes on to say, Wistman's Wood - 'described as "haunting" and "magical" by visitors' - is only three hectares.

George Monbiot posted a Twitter thread on last Friday, which included a photo to show just how tiny that is.

He also described visiting the wood:

It is currently completely unprotected. Peering into it*, you can see that there has been no recruitment (ie growth of new trees) for decades.

*We didn’t go in, as that would cause further damage

Why not? Because the wood has not been exclosed: in other words, sheep, cattle and ponies have not been fenced out. This famous wood is dying on its feet. 

Everyone quoted in the Guardian article was enthusiastic about William's plans, but it will take much more than this to solve Dartmoor's problems.

As on so many other moorlands, overgrazing has prevented the growth of the trees and plants that would once have been found there.

Add the influence of sporting interests, and the combination produces the bleak landscapes we see today.