A peep into the heaving compost heap of the PC countryside
PAUL tiNSON
ow are things down on your farm, Giles?' Not too bad, Arthur. Of course, we don't do cattle, sheep or arable since we were declared an Environmentally Sensitive Area. We've gone Innovative.'
'Putting up expensive new buildings?'
'Not really. The big barn is now our Butterfly Support Centre. It holds the office of the Management Recovery Team. As a matter of fact. I am myself— surprise, surprise! — the team captain. and I'm also Transect Count Officer pending the appointment of a professional from the Butterfly Conservation staff of the National Parks Department. But now it's a Freestanding Authority with Brussels Access, it shouldn't take long.' You ought to concentrate on the Heath Fritillary."Oh, we do, never fear. We started with just four individuals and now the computer registers 40. But we also do High Browns and Ballerina Waxcaps, All three are registered as National Priorities under the Regional Biodiversity Action Plan.'
'Trouble is, I've noticed the land near your farm has not been environmentally managed. The main larval food plant of those species has been shaded out by competing vegetation and bracken litter on unclermanaged sites.' Too true. We've got to prioritise the most suitable post-burning management regime, especially as we're regenerating the cowwheat too with sustainable habitat management. I admit I'm having difficulty with lingwort lichens and blanket bog, both on Sites of Special Scientific Interest, so we can't manage them without a Statutory Referral. Bats, too, in the barn. It's a gender problem as Mrs Tendril, our Team Computer-Count Manager, doesn't like them flying into her hair. I say to her, "That's not very Pet-Friendly, dear." Anyway, they're a National Biodiversity Priority too, so we can't do anything about them?
'Frankly, I wouldn't get too deeply involved in butterflies. I'm looking at the wider picture on my farm. My Management Plan prioritises Greening Measures, defined under the Environment Act (1995 as amended). So I'm busy recycling and composting all waste and powering buildings with function-planned wind generators and photo-electric tiles. I'm seeding sessile oaks and netting beech masts to expand genetic diversity, and with any luck I'll get my farm project-declared, which is the first stage to having it designated a Centre of Excellence. Can't tell you what a difference that makes in subsidies — beg your pardon, support funds — local, regional, national and EU.'
'Well, I know all that, Arthur. You should see my alpacas. I started out with a couple and now I've got a well-managed team of Animal Fibre Workers, constituting a sustainable British source in what is clearly an environmentally friendly textile industry. It's quite a makeover from sheep, I can tell you. Properly managed, there are spin-off benefits too. They have their own enclosure next to the free-range hens, and if a fox gets in, three or four of these big buggers surround it instantly and kick it to death before you can say Planning Inspector. Now that hunting is no longer a resource, I call such hen-protection planning truly innovative. And talking Innovations, I've got the local inspector to identify, under the Act, a Local Affordable Need by way of housing, so I'm getting permission to put up two dozen Affordable Dwellings on my old ten-acre turnip field. Got turned down before, but now he's issued an Identification Certificate I'm in the money. Only trouble is, it means creating an Easy Access route, which is also Pet-Friendly, through my main biodiversity fields. That could be a setback to my management recovery programme for the Fritillaries. And I may even fall foul of the Badger Inspector.
'No problem, Giles, if you're locally cultureconscious. It's important to get Artlife on your side. I rather think that's a Freestanding Authority too. The great thing, especially if you're aiming at Centre of Excellence status, is to have a Local Need, in this case for culture, legally identified and declared sustainable. Then you can hold a Celebration of Public Art, and the easy access route will be paid for from Central Government funds. Get some of your more enterprising locals to go in for artwork, and rent them your smaller barns for studios. That's what I've done. I put them on to creating driftwood sculptures and enigmatic objects. Oh yes, and Traditional Rural Installations — that always goes down well with the Department. And shell art, good for a ticket of Unequalled Excellence, as they call it now. You provide the venues and a free Art Bus, which can be registered as part of the Sustainable Transport Scheme and paid for by the Rural Transport Partnership Authority. Get your people making large banners. Big, decorated things, you know, which can be carried in processions and at demos. That's now regarded as the top form of Public Art and essential if you're to have a Celebration of Culture. Banners are prioritised in my Art Business Plan.'
'Good advice, Arthur. But none of this has much to do with farming as I used to know it.'
'Farming, Giles? Grow up and get yourself a life. This is the 21st century and the age of Green Authority. Farming doesn't come into it.'
To be honest, most farmers do not talk like this. On the contrary, they are angered and depressed by the swarms of self-righteous officials, from a dozen or more authorities, free-standing or otherwise, who have settled in the countryside like a plague of poisonous insects and tell everyone who works there what to do and what not to do. What has happened in the last quarter-century is a fascinating case of readjustment by the lower-middle-class intelligentsia. Until the total collapse of Soviet communism in 1989, and the subsequent disappearance both of the Marxist dream and the far-Left parties which sought to bring it to pass, members of this class went into politics or promoted socialism from their positions within the central and local government and educational systems. That is now no more. But the spirit of bossiness that dwells in these people, which persuades them they have all the answers to the problems of the universe and a positive duty to compel others to follow and obey them, is still as strong as ever and seeking fresh outlets. In the cities, it takes the form chiefly of race politics, a rapidly expanding sphere now embracing not only multiracialism and multiculturalism but religion too, as the conflict between Islam and Judaeo-Christianity spreads and intensifies. Legislation is being enacted in Britain and elsewhere which not only creates new crimes and penalties but plenty of jobs too for the bossy. In the countryside, however, where race is not an issue (yet), Protection of the Environment and Endangered Species — and all the wonderful opportunities for bossiness and busybodying which go with it — provides not only a moral and emotional outlet for those with no faith or patriotism, but a rapidly growing number of jobs. These positions may not have high salaries but what they lack in cash they more than make up for with the chance to fine and jail. It is a new and ugly world, lacking only an Orwell to depict its horrors.
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