Adventures of an armchair activist: Going green-er… gingerly (1)

Going Green-er…

Last week’s UN report on biodiversity and ecosystems, together with the 2018 IPCC report on global warming have dramatically highlighted the damaging effects that we are imposing on our planet. Greta Thunberg and the leaders of Extinction Rebellion are surely right in emphasising that this is the most pressing issue for all of us: politicians, corporate leaders, and individual citizens alike.

So it seemed an appropriate place to start in my deliberations on how to live ethically in an exploitative, unjust, consumerist world.

I am so grateful for the beauty and goodness of our world, and the privilege I have in being able to enjoy that beauty. I long for others too – both now and in the future – to be able to enjoy and appreciate this goodness, and for the destruction and exploitation that has devastated so much of our planet to be rolled back.

And yet, as a wealthy consumer living in one of the wealthiest nations of our world, I have to acknowledge that – in spite of the small steps I have taken to reduce my carbon footprint – I am really more a part of the problem than the solution.

…gingerly

I recently calculated my carbon footprint and my conservative estimate came out at 7.69 tonnes of CO2 per year – higher than the reported UK average of 6.50 tonnes (although I note that other sources put this at closer to 10 tonnes), nearly double the global average of 4 tonnes, and four times the required target of 2 tonnes.

 

So what are we doing about it? What could we be doing? And where is it that we are struggling?

  • The biggest contributor to our carbon footprint is flying. Lois and I both do it: to visit family and friends abroad; for work and conferences; to support others living and working in challenging circumstances. Neither of us enjoy it: the long waits in airport departure lounges and arrivals halls; the uncomfortable seats and tray food; the jet lag; and most of all, the knowledge that with every flight we are contributing to the destruction of our planet. But still we do it. We do what we can to offset our flying by buying carbon credits, but recognise that can never undo the damage we are doing. We try to limit our flying: not using a plane if there is an alternative transport option; limiting our flying to visiting family and friends; cutting down the number of such trips; avoiding international conferences where possible; and taking holidays in this country rather than abroad. And yet, we chose a cross-national marriage, our families are spread across four countries and our friends even wider, and we do want to prioritise our relationships. So we will continue to struggle with this. Is one long-haul flight per year acceptable? Is seeing grandchildren just once a year enough? Should I turn down invitations to international conferences on environmental grounds?

 

  • Other forms of transport make up our next biggest contribution. Here, perhaps we are taking some worthwhile steps (literally) by walking, cycling (me), and taking public transport when we can, rather than driving. Last year, we passed on our diesel estate to Joe and bought a smaller, hybrid car. Perhaps we should have gone fully electric, but the cost, patchy infrastructure, and limited second-hand market all put me off doing so at this stage. So we try not to use the car unless we have to, tend to drive at 60-65 rather than 70-75mph, and avoid heavy acceleration and braking. We are privileged, living where we do, that I can get into town by bike in 20 minutes, or the University in 30; that we have 4+ buses an hour going from outside our door to Coventry or Birmingham; and that we have such a good rail network from Coventry and Birmingham International. But it does frustrate me that rail travel is such an expensive (and time consuming) option. Travelling to Nottingham to see Esther and Rob would take 2 ½ hours and cost around £50 by train, compared to 1 hour and about £5 by car; further or more remote excursions increase dramatically in both time and cost. So, do we go further in our efforts to travel sustainably? Should we aim to ultimately get rid of our car? Do we sacrifice efficiency and cost (both of which we can afford) for the sake of sustainability?

 

  • When we set up Breathing Space a year ago, we deliberately chose a place on the outskirts of Coventry so it would be accessible by public transport. We have the advantage of regular buses to outside our front door combined with a sense of peace in the garden, and countryside walks from our doorstep. We encourage others to travel sustainably to Breathing Space. The reality is, however, that most of our visitors come by car, even those who live in Coventry (and we would probably do the same if it were us visiting somewhere else in the city). We don’t apologize for having no parking available on the property and will install a bike rack once the access ramp is completed, but is there more we could do to promote green-er travel among the users of Breathing Space?

 

  • And we have voted (in both local council and European elections) for the Green Party – a party that clearly has greener transport policies in its manifesto, and has done for years. But could we be doing more to lobby the government to incentivize train travel? to not build more airports but actually close a couple? to fund cycleways within towns?

 

So there we are – struggling to travel sustainably; succeeding in some aspects and failing in others; wrestling with the dilemma of balancing family relationships with green living.

What about you? Are there ways you have managed to cut down on environmentally damaging travel? Do you struggle with the same dilemmas as us? Do you have any suggestions that we could take up? Add your comments to the blog or join in a conversation on Facebook…

 

 

Reflections on retirement 7: Wholeheartedly on my bike

I cycled in to the University today – perhaps for the last time. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the first frost of autumn was shimmering on the grass, a shadowy mist hovered over the duck ponds, and the mothers and children were skipping on their way to school. Actually, the children were grumbling and the mothers getting stressed (this was Tile Hill after all!) but I smiled cheerily at them nevertheless.

 

I had started the morning with a reflection from one of my 21st century gurus, Richard Rohr:

‘Much of a man’s life is spent going to work, running errands, cleaning house, mowing the lawn, waiting in lines, attending meetings, and tending to the necessary but endless minutiae that make up life. We know that we can’t live as if we’re in the middle of an Indiana Jones adventure. We know that much of life is rather dull and repetitive. That’s why it’s so important to be fully present to the ordinary things that keep us going: a movie, a concert, dinner with a friend. Anything you do fully gives you joy. Anything done halfheartedly will bore you. People do not tire from overwork nearly as much as from halfheartedness. Wholeheartedness requires that a person be fully present. And people who are present are most ready to experience the Presence.’ – Richard Rohr, On the threshold of transformation, p186.

 

I reflected that that has been my experience in the amazing 36 years of my career. When I have been fully present, wholeheartedly engaged in the task in hand, I have felt fulfilled, energised, inspired. When I’ve been distracted, halfheartedly engaged, my mind on other things, I’ve ended up bored or frustrated.

I guess I have been blessed by being involved in work which lends itself to fulfilment: clinics; teaching; inspiring research… But it has had its share of routine, repetitive tasks: management meetings, governance reports… Surprisingly, though, even those things which carried the potential to be tedious and uninspiring have turned out to be fulfilling when I was able to engage with them wholeheartedly. One of the most rewarding parts of my job over the past few years has been chairing our local serious cases subcommittee. I have loved this work – partly, I’m sure, because of the great team of people who have formed the committee; but also because I have been able to carve out the time to focus on the work in hand, to see its importance in terms of children’s lives, and to think creatively about how we learn from these cases.

And so, getting in to my office, I was once more privileged to be able to throw myself wholeheartedly into the tasks before me: editing some journal papers; feedback to students; supervising one of my PhD students; supporting another PhD student through her viva (successfully so – well done Jumana! A great bonus for my final week at work); and doing some final clearing out of my office.

‘That was the best defended thesis I have ever examined’ – Julie Taylor, external examiner

 

So I was feeling fulfilled and not at all tired when I closed my office door and walked out to my bike for the long cycle ride home. Only to find that some other dopey (I will give them the benefit of the doubt that it was dopiness rather than malice, or some warped attempt to keep me at the Medical School) cyclist had padlocked my bike to theirs!

Fortunately it was just through the brake cable, so an hour later, when Lois came to rescue me in the car, complete with a set of Allen keys, I was able to free my bike and get home. And the added bonus was that in the intervening time, I had managed to finish clearing my office and say goodbye to room B028 at Warwick Medical School. And while the sun was no longer shining, the sky was nevertheless crisp and clear with golden tints of an autumn evening.