On our need to create an inspiring narrative

Last week I talked about the need to start writing (and speaking about) a new ‘grand-narrative’, a new story that gives structure, meaning and purpose to human life on this planet. One significant dimension to this new grand-narrative is obviously the future. Here Grace Blakeley, writing in this week’s New Statesman, is spot on when she calls for a “new narrative, one that can translate ideas about political economy into uplifting visions of a securer, more equal future”. This is particularly relevant when responding to our current climate crisis. It’s all well and good talking about our imminent climate and ecological breakdown, as I often do, but does this actually help create such a future? I know the idea is to scare people into action, but scaring people often causes them to freeze and / or look for more pleasant distractions. Should we start talking instead about the alternative, positive and altogether more attractive future we could create if we took this crisis as a wake up call?

The future has been particularly on my mind this week. Not necessarily my future, but the future of my daughters, and particularly my grandchildren, who I have been visiting. What sort of world are we creating for them? My usual response would be to note that the two degree rise in global temperatures that we well on course for will cause unimaginable problems for my grandchildren when they are in the prime of their lives in fifty years time. All the indications are that, in addition to it obviously being much warmer, many parts of the world will become uninhabitable due to the heat, and sea levels will rise by anything up to a metre above current levels due to the melting of glaciers. The result will be less habitable land for humans to live on, less land capable of supplying food, mass migration in search of both, together with a massive increase in global conflict as people try to protect what little they have and obtain what they need to survive.

But what’s your response to such a scenario? How do you react to being cast as a character in some science fiction future, being asked to imagine a world that is totally alien to everything you currently experience? Most of us I suggest would rather not think about it in too much detail. Science fiction films are good entertainment, and can make us think, but we can leave the cinema and return to our ‘normal’ world anytime we like. Many of us accept that such a future is likely, and will try and ‘do our bit’ to prevent it happening, and a few of us (and I’m particularly thinking here of Extinction Rebellion) will actively try and prevent the story unfolding, but I suspect that most of us would rather avoid the reality altogether. We seek pleasure not pain. Why think about such a depressing narrative when we can immerse ourselves in the ‘reality’ of Love Island or Premiership football?

So how different would it be if we started to tell a different story? A story where after thousands of years of evolutionary self-obsession, humanity suddenly woke up to the fact that they are actually part of nature? That they are are just one living system amongst many? And that many, if not most of our problems start diminishing if we can live with nature not against it? How having evolved out of Africa, after having spread across the Earth and settled into relative isolation, global humanity came together again to form a single community? How learning to co-operate with each other, non-human animals and our Earth systems, rather than seeking power, status and domination, humanity discovered that they could actually flourish and be happy? That equality and respect were more effective than inequality and domination in achieving human needs?

But this new story will also need to be about the past. The future we create for our children and grandchildren will be understood and interpreted by them, in part at least, by their memories – in short by what they hear and experience as they grow up. What we say to them, how we behave as they grow up, whether we direct these actions at them or not, will be absorbed by them and will influence how they interpret the world they inherit from us. And my growing fear is that if they grow up surrounded by fear and negative talk, rather than optimism and positive talk, they too will absorb these characteristics. That they will grow into fearful and negative people.

If humanity is to survive and flourish (and that’s a big ‘if’) we will need to become creative and positive – we will need to develop an uplifting narrative to act as our guide to the future. This narrative will need to inspire future generations, and it will need to show how previous generations (us) woke up the reality of their place in nature and started to care about the world they were leaving as their inheritance.

Our existential paradox and our need for a new grand-narrative

I tweeted yesterday about what I considered to be, against a lot of competition, the most depressing news story of the week. An article in The Guardian was reporting that “astrology is having a cultural moment” with a “surge in enthusiasm for astrology apps”. This disturbing loss of rationality and good sense was summed up by the comments of one of the interviewees: “I think anything that feels real is real in a way. And if I find the answers to questions I want through astrology and horoscopes, that makes it real.” My concern, however, is of a more fundamental nature than my rather glib tweet implied. What this person seems to be seeking is some narrative structure that helps make sense of, provide structure to, life’s events – a structure that seems to falling away before our eyes at the moment.

For me, one of the defining features of being human is what I term the existential paradox. We humans have an existential need for meaning and purpose in our life, both individually and collectively. But when examined, when critically challenged, any such meaning and purpose is exposed as being a myth of our own creation, is shown to be devoid of any solid ground. This problem was most famously brought to our attention by Jean-Paul Sartre. To explain what he meant by ‘existentialism’ he coined the phrase that for humans ‘existence precedes essence’. What he meant is best understood by first of all considering any item made by humans – say, for example, this laptop I’m writing on. This, like any other artefact that we have produced, was first thought about, considered or designed, and then actually produced or brought about. Its essence (it’s meaning and purpose) preceded its existence. But for at least one being (the human being) it’s the other way around. Sartre was an atheist, and in the absence of a designer / creator he argued that humans first of all exist, and then create meaning and purpose to their lives.

This meaning and purpose may only be of our own creation, but it has provided us with a profound survival advantage. Creating myths that explain both the origins of a tribe or hunter-gatherer community and its destiny, that provides a reason why it exists and what its purpose is, allows that tribe or community to work together as a community. Working co-operatively on a large scale allows that community to achieve far, far more than could be achieved by the sum of its parts, by individual members working as individuals. It has allowed communities to come together to create powerful nations, and has allowed us to develop technology of devastating power. In short, our myths and grand-narratives (to use Jean-François Lyotard’s phrase) have brought us to planetary domination. But in so doing they have been shown to be the charlatans they always were. Like some huge erotic tease, they have brought us to the brink…and then deserted us.

Such is the paradox of human existence. Our survival has been assured through the creation of myths, stories, grand-narratives that provide meaning and purpose to our existence, that, through encouraging us to work co-operatively, have allowed us (so far) to overcome all obstacles. But none of these narratives have, in any profound sense, been true. They have all been of our own creation, and, being fictions, are destined to come up against reality and be shown to be impotent. This is happening now – on a big scale. Capitalism, and particularly its latest incarnation, neoliberalism, has not only reached the limits of what it can ‘achieve’, but is now creating a negative response from those whose personal stories are grossly at odds with what its grand-narrative has led them to expect. But of even greater concern is the myth of omnipotence, the one that makes us feel special and all powerful, the one that makes us believe we have the right to dominance over all life on our planet, the right to extract as much of its resources as we are able, and the right to dump as much of our waste wherever we want to dump it. That one is now starting to bite us back big-time.

So what is the solution to this paradox? Well, in a sense, it’s to do what those people who are turning to astrology are doing. Except of course, that astrology is just an attempt to bury our heads in the sand – to pull the covers over our heads and return to dreamland. No, we do need a new grand-narrative, one that fully acknowledges both the fast approaching existential crisis and the existential paradox expressed by grand-narratives. Who wants to help me write it?

Some thoughts ‘going forward’!

So, what speech habits annoy you the most? Well, starting a statement, especially an answer to a question, with “so”, obviously. But the one that is really getting to me at the moment is “going forward”. For example, a government minister who was on the radio yesterday morning said, in relation to some issue that had been raised, that “that will need to be part of our thinking going forward”. What does that phrase add to his meaning? What does the addition of those two words add to the meaning of “that will need to be part of our thinking”? But apart from being superfluous to the meaning of what is said, the most annoying thing about the phrase is the ubiquity of its use amongst politicians and local government officers. Nearly all the presentations that I’ve sat through recently have included this phrase. Often. Very often.

Perhaps it’s meant as some kind of assurance that we are not going backwards, that we are not returning to some vague period in the past when things were even worse than they are now. Perhaps it’s meant to imply progress. But progress towards what? Some inevitable (predetermined) future? Towards some undefined situation where ‘things’ are better than they are now? But what ‘things’? And in what way ‘better’? I think its this implied, yet vague and unspecified sense of a positive future that I find so annoying. At the mundane level the phrase is just superfluous. Time only moves in one direction. There is only one direction of travel. But at another level it tries to deceive us that things are getting better, but without stating how.

It would help, I think, if we all had a generally agreed sense of what we are trying to achieve. Aristotle famously pointed out that everything we do we do in order to achieve some end, some good. We go to work, for example, partly (or solely) to earn money, but perhaps (ideally) because we believe that our work is doing some good. But even if we only work for the money, that is a good for us in as much as it allows us to pay the rent and put food on the table. Aristotle went on to argue that these ends were, in their turn, means to some further end or good, and that this chain of reasoning could continue until you reach a final end, the greatest good. Aristotle thought this greatest good to be eudaimonia, an ancient Greek word often translated as happiness, but more accurately translated as flourishing. Human flourishing, in both its personal and social contexts.

My point is not that we should all become students of Aristotle. My point is that what is missing from our collective life together is some sense of where we are heading, what we are trying to achieve, some vision of our greatest good. I don’t expect us all to agree, and I certainly don’t want to be presented with some corporate long term plan complete with ‘smart’ targets or key performance indicators. But some open public discussion and debate about the type of future we are trying to create for our children and grandchildren would be a good start. Perhaps then the phrase “going forward” will start to mean something.

The season to be silly? Or start preparing for a general election?

We have entered that period of the political season that is often referred to as the silly season. Silly because in the absence of hard political news from Westminster the papers often resort to other news to fill their pages, news that is often less than serious – and occasionally outright daft. Yes, after all the excitement of the installation of a new Head Boy the school term has ended and all the boys and girls have returned to their constituencies to pack their bags and go on their holidays. Or are they? As several political commentators have pointed out, the antics of our new Head Boy appear to be very much like those you would expect to see at the start of a general election campaign. So, despite the denials, should we expect one in the Autumn?

I ask this because, as the Green Party prospective parliamentary candidate for West Dorset, this will affect me directly. I will, for example, become very busy for several weeks, and will need to have answers prepared on a whole range of policy issues – some of which are impossible to answer without greatly offending someone. I have caught myself starting to construct considered responses to questions being asked of other politicians in the media. Psychologically, I think I’m starting to prepare myself.

I also expect some heated debate about the possibility of our local ‘progressive parties’ working together to defeat the Tory candidate (whoever that may be) and oppose our leaving the EU. In 2017, there was pressure on me to stand aside in favour of the Lib Dem candidate. Most of it, it must be said, from that candidate himself. In principle I’m against this, and for a number of reasons. Green Party supporters deserve to have a candidate of their own to vote for. We have been working hard locally to build our profile and support base. Not standing gives the impression that we are not serious, whilst standing gives us a great opportunity to further extend our message. Additionally, not standing, particularly if repeated in a number of constituencies, distorts the measurement of our national level of support, measurement that is then used against us.

However, I would be prepared to stand down provided this was formally agreed at the national level. This would require any party entering into such an agreement to commit, if in power, to a second referendum (and campaigning to remain) and to introducing some form of proportional representation. It would also require each party to agree in which constituencies they would stand down to provide a clear path for a ‘progressive candidate’ with a good chance of winning. I would expect this agreement to take a balanced approach; that if, for example, it was agreed that a number of Green Party candidates stood down in favour of Lib Dem candidates, that reciprocal arrangements were agreed elsewhere.

I have also suggested the idea of an ‘open primary’ for West Dorset. This would allow each of the ‘progressive parties’ to put forward their own candidate well in advance of an election. These candidates would then appear at a number of public debates across the constituency followed by a local election to select the one that would stand as the opposition candidate. Voters who want to take part in this process could register in advance and pay a small fee that would cover the administration costs of the primary. I accept that there are many fine details that need to be worked through to make this work, but I do think it worth some serious consideration.

So, just as my diary starts to ease of Dorset Council meetings and training sessions, just as I finally have time to do some reading (and perhaps even go away for a few days), I find myself starting to mentally prepare for a general election. Or should I just allow the silly season to wash over me?

Some reflections on political strategy, anarchism and responsibility

Dorset Council have started to create a number of Executive Advisory Panels focusing on specific areas of strategic development. These cross-party groups of about eight to ten elected members will listen to reports and assess the evidence from relevant council officers and other experts, and then advise the Cabinet on ways forward. Even accepting that these panels are only advisory, i.e. that the Cabinet is free to ignore their advice, I think that they are positive development – in principle at least. However, in some areas, and the Council’s response to the climate emergency in particular, I am fearful that this process will be overly cautious and too respectful of received opinion. Rather than research and consider what is possible on existing evidence, we need to commit to the necessary radical action and then work out how to bring these commitments about. Our response to the impending climate and environmental breakdown needs to be bold and brave, not considered and measured!

I am sitting on three of these panels. Apart from the one considering the climate emergency, I am also sitting on one looking at economic development – and this poses its own dilemma. It’s probably fair to say that my own understanding of the economy and the strategy we should be developing is somewhat at odds with other members of the panel. I would, for example, fully endorse Paul Mason’s comment in this week’s New Statesman that “Few people are yet prepared to accept that, to save the planet, we have to end capitalism – and on a timescale that even an ardent Leninist might find optimistic.” Which leaves me with a problem. If I simply express such an opinion I am more than likely to be simply side-lined by other panel members, regarded as some radical pest who’s intent on disrupting the process, and not even given a chance to explain my reasoning. However, if the need for change is as urgent as I believe it to be how can I simply sit back patiently waiting for the tide to turn? Any advice on this would be gratefully received.

Talking of the climate crisis (as I inevitably am), Richard Walton, of Policy Exchange, was interviewed on Radio 4’s Today programme earlier in the week, claiming that Extinction Rebellion were planning an anarchist revolution. In case you are not familiarwith Policy Exchange, it’s a right-wing think-tank that supports free-market solutions to political issues. I suppose that I should thank him. Apart from giving me a good laugh, he made me aware of a potential paradox regarding anarchism. Anarchists are usually regarded as being somewhat left of centre in the political spectrum, and whilst its proponents vary quite widely in what they actually believe they generally affirm the importance of individual freedom as a basic principle, view the state as being inconsistent with individual freedom, and propose various ways of building a better society without the state (description lifted from The Oxford Companion to Philosophy). Now, if I removed the reference to anarchists and being left of centre, to what extent would that description apply to neo-liberalism?

And talking of neo-liberalism (you have to admire the sequencing here, don’t you?), a comment by Will Storr, in his book Selfie, has sent my thinking about ‘responsibility’ (the discussion topic of this week’s Bridport Philosophy in Pubs group) into a state of confusion. I have generally approached this topic from the direction of Sartre’s ‘atheistic existentialism’ which declares “that if God does not exist there is at least one being whose existence comes before its essence”. The upshot of this is that humanity is first thrown into the world, and only attempts to define itself afterwards; that there is no human nature; that “Man [sic] is nothing else but that which he makes of himself.” As there is no predetermined right action there is a great responsibility on individual human beings to consider what to do in any given situation – the responsibility for acting is theirs and theirs alone. To be honest, I have never given a huge amount of time to thinking through ‘responsibility’ in this context, but I have long since regarded myself as an ‘existentialist’. However, as Storr points out in relation to neo-liberalism, the ‘gig economy’ and ‘zero-hour contracts are “arrangements in which the responsibility of the employer is minimised, and that of the individual maximised”, and that there is a general sense in which workers are taking on personal responsibility for becoming better employees and better persons. I suspect that Sartre would not have approved of such an analysis, but I wonder how he would have responded?

The self, complexity, and coming to terms with being a councillor

I am currently reading, and greatly enjoying, Will Storr’s Selfie, his account of our obsession with the self and self-interest. One of the key ideas to emerge from this very well written and engaging book is that many neuro-scientists are now dismissing the idea of a core self, some intrinsic principle which is the true and authentic us, and instead talking about the multiple self. This ‘I’ is not one, but many; a number of different versions of who we are collected and formed from different social environments. I say all this not to get into a discussion about the ‘self’, but simply to point out that when armed with a fresh ‘interpretive framework’ our personal experiences can be brought into a much sharper focus.

For example, one of the long running narratives of my life has been not just an interest in philosophy, but to ask quite fundamental questions about my experiences. This has led me to explore various philosophical approaches, and formulate a certain understanding of the ‘human condition’. This ‘personal project’ forms a key narrative of who I am, but it is by no means the only one. Another key narrative of my life, one that is new and quite dominant at the moment, is that of local politician. Being newly elected to Dorset Council I find myself engaged in the process of establishing a role within what at times feels like an environment that everyone seems to understand except me. Absorbing and internalising the subtleties of a new social environment can be exhausting at the best of times, but when political game playing is added to the mix it can be quite overwhelming.

However, whilst participating in a councillor event this week, one focussing on the development of a Dorset industrial strategy, my philosophical narrative, or at least an element of it, managed to overcome the defences of my political narrative and offer some much needed assistance. We were being asked to rank certain elements of a possible industrial strategy in priority order when, out of the blue, work I had done years ago related to systems theory and complexity science, came charging to my assistance.

Social systems, which includes economic systems, can be (in fact should be) understood through the science of complex systems. This approach sees all the elements that come together to form the socio-economic system as a highly connected network, a network in which no element can be understood in isolation of any other element, and a network in which the flows of energy or information are highly non-linear. This means that our basic understanding of cause and effect does not apply; that because of various features such as feedback loops, very small inputs can have massive and unpredictable outputs and effects on other parts of the system. The only way to manage such systems is to try and grasp their dynamic complexity.

Which leads me to wonder whether its possible to so grasp perhaps the most dynamic and complex system of all – the human mind? Yes, I agree with the emerging evidence cited by Storr that there is no authentic self, and that we have a multiplicity of selves, but I’m wondering whether it’s possible to view ourselves not as a single unit, but as a single dynamic system, albeit one that is connected to other such systems in highly complex ways? I suppose I’m simply suggesting that it would be beneficial for all of us to develop an understanding of complexity; that developing our ‘interpretive frameworks’ to incorporate complexity may help us come to terms with ourselves and our place in the world.

The sun is shining, but Brazil sends a dark cloud

This last week has been one of the busiest, yet most stimulating weeks I have had for some time. Yesterday was Demand Democracy Day, a national campaign day calling for proportion representation, organised by Make Votes Matter. And here in Bridport, in glorious June weather, on one of those market days when the town centre is bustling with residents and holiday makers, we had a stall – talking to people about our unfair voting system and urging them to sign the MVM petition. As one person pointed out to me, this is probably the only issue on which I would agree with the Brexit Party.

In this week’s YouGov opinion poll, the Green Party was shown as having about 9% support. However, if a General Election were to be called (and I would not rule one out at any time following the crowning of the new Conservative Party leader) we would probably return just one MP. This is grossly unfair to this 9% of the electorate. No matter how good Caroline Lucas is (and she is good), her solitary voice in Parliament cannot do justice, cannot give a voice, to that degree of support. Fifty eight MPs, however…now that’s a different matter entirely! We could have some real influence with that number.

This week also saw the first meetings of Dorset Council’s cross party Climate Emergency Advisory Panel, and a small group set up by Bridport Town Council to produce a Climate Emergency Action Plan for the town. I sit on both of these. And I have to admit that I left both feeling far more positive that I had expected to. Regarding our Town Council, I suppose this should not have been a surprise, after all we have an excellent team of officers who are truly committed to rising to the challenge of our climate and ecological breakdown, and Bridport, particularly through the local Transition Town group, has long been active in this area. But even so, the energy and the ideas being generated is impressive, and I feel confident that we will have a comprehensive Action Plan to present to Council in October.

The Dorset Council panel however, being Tory dominated, was a bit more of a surprise, and for two reasons. First, because a list of thirty three actions that a council like Dorset can take to address this emergency, compiled by Friends of the Earth, is being taken seriously and was totally incorporated into our initial presentation. And second, because Extinction Rebellion, whose campaign has really impressed me, are also being taken seriously – so seriously that I think they are being invited to give a presentation to our next meeting in September. This, I really hope, bodes well, even though I was a little frustrated that, despite this being an emergency, we have to wait two months for our next meeting.

A day devoted to planning issues supplied some balance to my rising optimism. This was partly because I’m such a novice to this area of local government, and am therefore going through a very steep learning curve. But also because of the need to be far more prescriptive with regards to planning issues and our climate and ecological emergency than we are currently being. As a planning authority we need to work to a local development plan that has been approved by government and reflects their policies. Dorset, following the merger of several small planning authorities, is just starting the process of developing its own joint development plan. Until then we have to work with, and interpret, the old local plans the best we can

The production of this new development plan is a golden opportunity to ensure that all planning decisions reflect this emergency, but one that may also require a change of government policy. For example, the development of any greenfield site should be the exception, and should only be permitted when there is clear evidence that no brownfield site is available – even if this means relaxing certain areas of building control in towns. And, being a little more radical, permission to make extensions to already excessively large single-family domestic houses, or build such property in the first place, should be refused as a matter of principle. Not only are such projects a complete waste of valuable resources, resources with a carbon footprint, but are unethical when so many families are desperate for a home of their own.

But the story that really sobered me up was that reported by the BBC over several nights regarding the Brazilian rain-forest. This forest is being destroyed for purely commercial reasons, to create grazing space for cattle to produce beef. This action is simply beyond belief. These rain-forests are the lungs of the Earth. They supply 20% of our oxygen, and are the single biggest absorbers of carbon. And humans are destroying them…on purpose…for profit. And what is the UN doing? What is our government doing? National governments need to organise and say no to Brazil. They need to ban all imports of Brazilian goods until this practice is not only stopped, but reversed by a programme of re-forestation.

Thank you Philosophy.

One of my monthly highlights is the meeting of Bridport’s Philosophy in Pubs group. We met last Wednesday to discuss the notion of identity – our personal identity and its relationship to our sense of self. I shall say nothing further about this particular discussion now (though, if interested, please feel free to track down the August of edition of Bridport Times and read my regular column), but instead comment on why I find these meetings so stimulating. Bertrand Russell expressed my love of philosophy well when he said that “Philosophy is to be studied, not for the sake of any definite answers to its questions, since no definite answers can, as a rule, be known to be true, but rather for the sake of the questions themselves” (The Problems of Philosophy, ch. 14). Philosophy for me is about asking good questions, questions that open up problems and disturb certainty, questions that unsettle received opinion. It’s a creative and invigorating process.

But in many ways this challenging of certainty and the ‘common sense’ view sits on the opposite side of the table to the political aspect of my weekly activities. Whilst political theory can quite easily be studied and debated at an abstract level, without ever having to get your hands dirty, in reality politics is about finding solutions to problems that affect the lives of actual people, people who are not particularly interested in abstract arguments, people who just want to get on with their lives. And in many ways they are right. Decisions need to be taken, plans need to made and implemented, actions need to be taken. The problem is, however, that people crave certainty. Uncertainty unsettles us, and is usually portrayed as a sign of weakness. And this dilemma is perfectly illustrated by the issue that is dominating my political life at the moment – how should both Dorset Council and Bridport Town Council respond to their recently declared Climate Emergencies?

Life is inherently uncertain. Science, and particularly any science involving complex and dynamic systems like climate science, is inherently uncertain. This is just a fact. But as soon as you stand up and say this it’s immediately used as evidence that the science is therefore wrong and should be ignored, that the changes you are arguing for are unnecessary, and that we should take a far more relaxed approach to the impending crisis. The problem is, I think, that we are just not very good at making sense of probability. This is perfectly illustrated by the number of people who take part in lotteries and buy scratch cards. In terms of climate breakdown, a 90% certainty (for example) of something bad happening is serious – very serious. A politician who fails to respond to a 90% chance of something bad happening is guilty of gross negligence.

I have two important meetings this coming week concerning the Councils responses to the Climate Emergency. In one in particular I am anticipating a large degree of resistance to the action I consider necessary. And this is when I’m helped by philosophy. My approach has to be to start unravelling certain common sense, taken for granted perspectives – attitudes, for example, that prioritise the need continuous economic growth over all other factors. Following Russell, I will need to focus on raising good, well thought through questions, and point out that there are no definitive answers to either these questions or the emergency we face. Thank you philosophy. In a strange way it’s you that keeps me grounded in the political arena, not the other way round.

On a week that saw my optimism rise & fall

Please don’t be alarmed, but I’m starting to feel optimistic. I’m starting to believe that it may actually be possible to change things for the better and, in the face of an imminent climate and ecological breakdown, to turn things around and secure the wellbeing of future generations. And if I’m correct, this will be largely down Extinction Rebellion – the global grass roots movement and their programme of non-violent direct action. I say this after reading on the BBC News site that climate protesters have stormed a coal mine in Germany, breaking through police lines during a weekend of protests against fossil fuel use. Whether this was organised by XR or not I don’t know. But if not it was surely inspired by their strategy, as was Greenpeace’s protest at the Chancellor’s Mansion House speech. These protests are both inspiring and effective.

This dawning optimism was given a boost earlier in the week when I attended a ‘Climate Change Adaptation Framework for Dorset’ event, jointly organised by Dorset Local Nature Partnership and the Dorset Local Enterprise Partnership. I have to admit that I was initially sceptical regarding the LEP’s involvement. I say this because I assume that their economic approach is mainstream and conservative. For example, whilst their Dorset Horizon 2038 talks of their ambition “to build a more productive, innovative, inclusive and sustainable economy” (at face value, no problem with that), it’s subtitle is ‘A Vision for Growth’. If we are serious about responding to climate breakdown we need to end our obsession with the pursuit of economic growth. Rather than this being the over-arching measure of economic success we need to adopt that of human and ecological wellbeing; we need, in the words of economist Kate Raworth, to become agnostic towards economic growth.

But whilst the LEP’s current economic model may well place economic growth centre stage, presentations at this event did not. In fact, I don’t recall ‘economic growth’ being mentioned at all. Moreover, one of the main presenters talked about the need to transform our economic system, of moving towards a circular economy. This is most encouraging. Clive Lewis MP, in XR’s recent publication This is not a Drill, argues that a shift to a circular economy will involve cuts in consumption, increased recycling, drastic improvements to our re-use efficiency, and (most importantly) the abandonment of our fetish for growth. Instead, our goals must be a decarbonised economy of full employment built upon renewables, recycling technologies, biodiversity and sustainable agriculture. To slightly amend a comment made by Clive Lewis: There will be no jobs or wealth on a dead planet.

So you can see how my optimism was soaring. It was soaring even as I started writing this. But then I heard the ex-Labour MP David Miliband on the Andrew Marr show talk about a possible armed conflict between the USA and Iran. And as they described how quickly such a conflict could escalate I could feel my optimism draining away. Very quickly my imagination was constructing all kinds of disastrous scenarios, many involving nuclear weapons. And that, despite the efforts of CND, is an issue that we haven’t resolved, despite years of campaigning. So, if we really are serious about avoiding the extinction of humanity perhaps we need to bring the issue of nuclear weapons back to the centre of grass roots campaigning as well.

My imagination has calmed down now, and my optimism is returning. But it would be a far more resilient optimism if could get rid of nuclear weapons!

A change of direction

Six weeks ago I was elected onto the new Dorset Council. One of the few downsides to this is that since then, in fact since the start of the election campaign several weeks prior to this, I’ve been struggling to find the time for many of my other projects – projects that are important to me personally, projects that keep my philosophical flame burning. This is requiring me to rethink how I handle these projects. The Philosophy in Pubs group I run is fairly straight forward, does not require a significant amount of time, so is at no risk whatsoever. The research that I have been doing into a narrative approach to ethics is important to me, not least because I think it important politically, but the book that was planned as an outcome will need to be put on hold. But on a positive note, I’m pleased to say that last Friday was a landmark day, in as much as I actually found the time to pick up the reading I was doing before local politics drowned all other activity.

Which brings me to this blog. My plan so far has been to write and post an essay of between 800 and a 1000 words every two weeks, an essay offering a philosophical reflection on some event or news item. But the reflection requires time, or at least some mental space where connections between disparate ideas can can tried, re-worked and finally sculptured into a coherent argument. Once this has happened, for me at least, the writing is fairly straight-forward. No, this approach requires some uncluttered thinking time – time I just haven’t got at the moment. However, I really do not want to stop writing. I enjoy writing. So I’m going to try a different approach. Instead of a reasonably substantial piece on a single subject every two weeks, I going to try a short piece (500 words at the most) every week simply reflecting on the week that has just past. A philosophical diary if you like. Hopefully I can do this by simply sitting down for a couple of hours at the weekend and writing what comes into my head. We’ll see.

For example, the topic that has dominated my thinking this last couple of weeks has been the drafting of a climate emergency motion for submission to the full Dorset Council. At the first meeting of this Council last month, due to pressure from members of Extinction Rebellion in the public area, a climate emergency was declared – but the motion passed was so bland that it makes no commitment to action at all. This needs to change. The Council at least needs to commit to developing certain strategies and policies. But in doing so many elected members will be fearful of either the consequences of certain lines of action, or will be hesitant because of having no idea how certain strategies will, or could be implemented. This must not stop us stating clearly what needs to happen. If we wait until we know the how of our response to the climate and ecological breakdown we face we will never act. We must let the necessity to act become the mother of invention. And if certain actions have outcomes we would prefer not to happen, then so be it. That is often the consequence of an emergency.