simplicity


This sunday is the inaugural ‘Slow Sunday‘ from Resurgence. Each issue of Resurgence magazine will name a sunday to be slow sunday, with a recommended activity (or with any luck, inactivity) for the day. This one kicks off with the suggestion to bake your own bread.

The idea of a slow sunday isn’t new of course. It’s in the law of Moses in the Old Testament, and it’s a day of rest, more than it is a day for religious observance. It’s a day for keeping a blank diary, for planning downtime, one day in the week that’s not for sale.

Resurgence, another trust inspired by E F Schumacher, are putting a bit of a twist on this, reinventing the sabbath as “keeping one day a week for the earth”. That’s an interesting idea, except that one day to atone for environmental sins committed on the other six is no route to sustainability, and the invitation to “bake bread to save the planet” is overstating the case a little. Nonetheless, a sabbath day is a good idea with or without the religious motivations. It’s a break in the cycle, bringing a rhythm of work and rest to our lives. If we took Resurgence’s ideas and did something ’slow’, it may remind us of what our priorities ought to be, and inspire us to slow down the rest of the week too.

Ways to take a ’sabbath’ could include getting outside for the day, if you work indoors. If you’re online a lot, have an internet free day. Spend time with your kids. Turn off the TV for the day, or leave the stereo off and allow yourself some head space. Do some gardening. Have some friends over for lunch. Whatever you do, make it different, and purposefully slower.

Since reading the crazy statistic that 61% of Britons don’t think they earn enough to meet their basic needs, I’ve been curious to know exactly what a real figure would be. A base rate, an ‘enough’ for living in the UK. I’ve come across a couple, and this week the Joseph Rowntree foundation have announced a new one - £13,400.

Working on solving poverty in the UK, the foundation wanted to ascertain the costs of a decent standard of living, so they could compare it to current welfare allowances. The sum they have come back with amounts to £210 per week for a single person, £626 for a couple with two children. See the table below for the breakdown of where that goes.

What do you think? Realistic? What do you think is enough?

Minimum income standards

Those on state benefits receive about two thirds of what they need, the report concludes. The basic state pension gives you about three quarters.

The two other figures I’ve picked up for ‘enough‘ are higher, at £355 a week and £300, but of course everyone is going to have their own benchmark. Despite the ‘how long is a piece of string’ nature of the question, I think it’s something we all need to think about, for a variety of reasons. The great lie of the consumer culture is that you need more, more stuff, more experiences, and to pay for those you need to earn more. It’s very easy to get sucked into a lifestyle where you’re working flat out to keep up with the ‘needs’ you’ve created for yourself. Or, like the report I mentioned at the beginning, you may even convince yourself that you don’t earn enough. Since that is actually highly unlikely, that’s an ungrateful way to live. It’s that kind of attitude that makes it so difficult to encourage people to scale back their consumption, or to buy ethically, to resist the cheap exploitative deals - if we think we’re missing out, that the world is somehow short changing us, we won’t ever make sacrifices for anyone else.

Finding your ‘enough’, and sticking to it, is actually a very liberating thing. It stops that endless worry that we’re not quite at the level we should be at. It gets us off the treadmill of up-scaling wants. It allows us to be generous with the remainder.

Read the full report here.

http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2007/04_03/gmsoyaDM0305_468x346.jpg They’re at it again. The government is seeking a re-opening of the case for GM crops to be planted in the UK. It’s not a surprise. They’ve obviously long regretted the decision not to press ahead with genetically modified crops made in the 90s, and with good reason in some ways. It was a decision made in the middle of a nation-wide scare about them, with tabloid talk of ‘frankenstein foods’, so to have allowed them would have been political suicide.

Years later, nobody talks about ‘frankenstein foods’ any more, and it would be much easier to sneak through relaxed legislation that would allow the planting of GM crops. What bothers me about GM is not the science however, but the economics and the politics, and the way they are justified by claiming they are to benefit the developing world. Here’s environment minister Phil Woolas, speaking last week:

“There is a growing question of whether GM crops can help the developing world out of the current food-price crisis. It is a question that we as a nation need to ask ourselves”

Granted, it is a question we need to ask ourselves, and the answer is yes, they might, but there are 101 things that would help solve the current food crisis faster, more fairly, and more safely, than GM crops. The first thing we should look at is subsidies, and the fact that our over-production in the EU and the US harms agriculture elsewhere by destroying local markets with cheaper produce.

Beyond that, we can look at irrigation, using water more fairly and more efficiently. The GM industry talks about special seed that needs less water, so that dry areas can be pressed into use that wouldn’t have been productive before. Sounds great, but you could achieve the same thing by spreading methods like Mediterranean-style underground water silos, or the drip-feed irrigation techniques widely adopted in India, using hosepipes with strategically placed pinholes.

Besides irrigation, there are higher yield normal seeds that are being well used to improve harvests all round the world. These urgently need to be made available in Africa. Then there is the most basic knowledge of things like crop rotation, leaving fields fallow to replenish nutrients, nitrogen fixing plants. Teach these before you bring in corporately controlled GM seed.

Then there are fertilizers and pesticides, which are heavily used in most places in the world, but aren’t yet affordable to farmers in the poorest parts of the world. These aren’t strictly necessary on small farms, provided people understand the nitrogen fixing and rotation mentioned above, and organic agriculture could feed the world. But again, we have much simpler solutions than GM.

The whole GM solution reminds me of the urban legend of NASA’s ’space pen’, a hugely sophisticated pen that could write in zero gravity, while the Russians used a pencil.

http://images.jupiterimages.com/common/detail/87/05/23210587.jpg Some Republicans like to claim that fighting climate change will damage the developing world, because measures to reduce emissions would harm emerging economies. It makes a handy excuse to dismiss climate change. Claiming that GM crops would solve the world food crisis is exactly the same. It uses the poor as a moral argument for expanding the reach of globalized agricultural corporations. That’s what GM crops are ultimately about. Despite the propaganda, they are not being developed with the poor in mind. They’re there to protect Monsanto patented seeds, to respond better to Monsanto pesticides (and only to Monsanto pesticides). They are to make more money for rich American companies. I don’t deny that there could be some interesting developments in GM technology in pharmaceuticals or in nutrition, their primary purpose at present is control. And the last thing the world should do in the face of a food crisis, is hand more control to big corporations. On the contrary, it’s time to encourage self-sufficiency, local solutions, seasonal produce.

Simpler solutions are available to us. We don’t need GM crops any more than we need a zero gravity pen.

As a precursor to this month’s seasonal eating missive, there was an interesting piece in the paper the other day about the oversimplification of food miles.

For example, apples keep well in storage, which means that local English apples can be harvested in September and October, and enjoyed all year round. However, by the summer these apples have been in refrigerated conditions for so long that apples shipped from New Zealand would actually have lower carbon emissions.

It’s a similar story with lettuce. Lettuces are grown all year round in the UK, but the heating required for greenhouse-grown winter lettuce outweighs any benefit in short shipping distances. You’re better off with a lettuce from Spain.

In other words, local food is not a hard and fast guarantee of lower carbon emissions. For food to be truly sustainable, it has to be both local and seasonal.

To whit, April’s seasonal pickings:

To start off with a meat for a change, it’s lambing season. For many people lamb epitomises the evils of meat eating, but if you’re going to eat meat, lamb’s a good option in animal welfare terms. Because most lambs are raised outside and spend most of their short lives with their mothers, they have happier lives than most cows or chickens. Sheep can also graze on steep or marginal land that would otherwise be uncultivated, so it’s good in land usage terms too.

Over in the vegetable arena, April sees the arrival of some tasty spring salads in the form of radishes, watercress, spring onions and rocket. Good leafy green food. Spinach is back, and so are carrots. Cauliflower is still around, and you may happen upon some early asparagus. Purple sprouting broccoli is around too, and if that’s as foreign to you as it is to me, here are some recipes.

For dessert, get yourself some rhubarb, and look forward to some early strawberries by the end of the month.

For more, see Real Epicurean’s series on seasonal eating, or the BBC.

The average cost of a wedding has risen to £18,500, according to research by ING Direct, meaning thousands of couples are delaying their weddings, with 15% not expecting to ever actually get married at all.

Part of the problem is the expectations of the couple. 23% of engaged couples say they are aiming for the perfect day regardless of the cost. The horse-drawn carriages, fireworks and deluxe venues that are now often seen as necessities push 41% of couples to overspend their budgets, with an average overspend of £3,700. Much of this is driven by media coverage of celebrity weddings. A quarter of couples say the media is an influence on their overspending.

This willingness to spend lavishly on weddings means that the costs have risen at five times the rate of inflation.

Researcher Tom Richards commented in the Observer recently: “The spectacle involved in modern marriage is in inverse proportion to its meaning. The more devoid of content the institution becomes, the more a grotesquely postmodern, style-over-substance principle applies. The entire event becomes a swaggering parody of some bygone society wedding.”

The article Richards is quoted in is a cynical and paranoid one, but Hannah Betts does make some good points. “Couples have come to regard marriage as the pinnacle not the premise of their relationship” she writes, and marriage has come to be associated with the wedding, a special day rather than a lifetime promise. However, I reject Bett’s conclusion that “marriage will retain its power only among its abstainers”. On the contrary. I believe marriage can be reclaimed, but it may have to be reclaimed from those who want a wedding, if you see what I mean. The institution is being overshadowed by the event.

As an engaged man, I obviously agree with the idea of marriage. As a Christian, I believe it is the premise of a relationship, and not the pinnacle. Where consumer aspirations have hyped weddings up into empty charades, Christians have an opportunity to subvert the wedding dream with the principle of marriage. We can do that by keeping the focus right - it’s about people, and promises, about community, family, and lifelong commitment. It is most definitely not about fairytales.

In the light of all this, I think there’s a strong case for simpler weddings. The ‘traditional wedding’ as sold to us today is not traditional. At least, not for us. We have come to believe we should all be enjoying the luxuries of a royal wedding. A real wedding is a set of promises, and a celebration of those promises with friends and family. If you have the money for something fancy then that’s great, but it could just as easily be in a church hall or a pub, a community centre or a school, in a park or a barn. It’s what earlier generations understood a wedding to be. Somewhere in the last 20 years we have been sold a myth that has simultaneously hyped and debased the whole idea of getting engaged.

We need to keep our priorities right. Keep it about the people and the promise, not the dress and the car. We can also lower our expectations - no day can be planned to perfection, and to assume that it can is to set oneself up for disappointment. We should resist the urge to compare weddings, or compete. The promises being made are far too important to let them be over shadowed by conspicuous consumption. And we need to be generous, not self-indulgent.

Personally, I think it’s a tragedy that people aren’t getting married because they can’t afford it. That is surely to have missed the whole point of marriage in the first place.

The image “http://files.list.co.uk/images/2007/09/06/NEIL-BOORMAN.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.A while back I mentioned Neil Boorman and his great bonfire of the brands, when he burned all his branded possessions and lived for a year without using any branded goods. The book about his experiences came out last year, and it went on my long list of things to read at some point. That point was last week, and I have to say I found it an engaging read.

Bonfire of the Brands: how I learnt to live without labels‘ is Boorman’s account of how he came to understand the role that brands played in his life, and how he broke their power over him. It centres around his symbolic gesture of freedom,  when he set fire to £20,000 worth of branded goods in a London square. The book, which was originally a blog, is structured something like a diary, mixing the planning of the fire, the history of brands, autobiographical details, and sessions with Boorman’s therapist.

As a fashion and lifestyle writer and promoter, and self-confessed ‘brand addict’, Boorman is well qualified to write such a flaming attack on brands and branding. He’s understood it from the inside. I grew up in Madagascar, where you were what you were and the process of self-defining through brands was almost an alien concept. (Though not quite - any imported goods had a certain cachet in the rather isolated Madagascar of the late 80s.) I’ve stood on the outside of branding, and wondered what on earth all the fuss is about. In that sense, I found Bonfire of the Brands quite intriguing, and rather insightful.

Basically, Neil realises that as he’s grown up, he has used brands to create an identity for himself. As an adult, he ses that “brands have become a tool by which I reinforce my identity and articulate aspirations of the future me. I have grown to depend on these brands to reassure every aspect of my self esteem.”

The problem of course, is that brands are not a substitute for a real sense of self, for confidence, self-respect, or even of style for that matter. They are empty promises that offer us the illusion that we can be different, better people, that we can be fitter, sexier, more enviable than we currently are. The adverts and lifestyle magazines constantly challenge us on our status - that watch would do wonders for our social standing. The bank windows and insurance companies question our security - our future would be safer if we switched our mortgage provider. The fashion houses make us believe that we could be prettier and more desirable - we’d all be having more fun, making more friends and getting more sex if we wore better jeans.

Of course, nobody thinks quite that simplistically about branding when you ask them, but the messages of advertising are so pervasive that their transparent lies have become normal to us. We don’t challenge the outrageous insinuations of advertising, and so we end up living and consuming as if they are the truth.  “The industry relies on a trick learnt by the pioneers of wartime propaganda” writes Boorman. “If you repeat a lie often enough, people eventually accept it as the truth.” Instead, we need to “expect less from the act of consumption; mobiles are there to make calls, not to impress our friends; bars of soap are there to cleanse our skin, not to turn us into movie stars.”

So, having burned his possessions and lived for a year without brands, where does Neil Boorman end up? Satisfyingly, he ends up right on message for make wealth history:

“The exercising of consumer freedom is not the choice between BMW or Mercedes. Consumer rebellion is not the boycotting of Esso in favour of BP. Sustainable consumption is not trading in the Range Rover for a Prius. It is choosing to consume only when necessary, The solution, I believe, is a lifestyle based on voluntary simplicity.”

Amen brother.

Visit Brand-Aid for more.

The news this morning might be all about the Oscars, but I wouldn’t want you to miss out on February’s other big awards ceremony - the Landfill Prize.

The Landfill Prize is “a monument to perverse imagination and needless consumption”, and it’s awarded to the most pointless and wasteful consumer product of the year. It’s the brainchild of John Naish, author of ‘Enough‘, and a reaction against Britain’s chronic throwaway culture, especially since we’re now running out of landfill space.

“Our culture is easily capable of producing myriad consumer items that are durable, reliable and useful enough to give years of great service,” he writes. Unfortunately, that’s not what happens. Instead, “we’ve got fixated on producing and consuming stuff that has no future. It’s only there to take our money on its brief trip from factory to landfill.”

http://www.edentalshop.com/images/philips%20sonicare%20flexcare%209600%20standard.jpgHence the Landfill Prize, there to “celebrate the stupendous creativity of the people tasked with inventing constantly inflated new wants for us to want.”

This year’s winner is this gloriously over-complicated piece of tat, the Philips Sonicare Flexcare toothbrush. The ‘ultimate in advanced technology’, it features ultra-violet sanitising and multiple brushing modes, ‘giving you the flexibilty to personalise your individual brushing needs’. It retails for £179, but according to Which, it cleans no better than a normal toothbrush used properly.

Click here for the rest of the top ten.

“As consumers, we would all benefit from a return to eating seasonal, local food. It would cut back on the extravagant amounts of greenhouse gases emitted through air freight. It would help struggling local farmers. But above all, it would reintroduce us to more nutritional, tastier food as well as helping us to reconnect with the people that produce our food.”
Leo Hickman, A Good Life

February is of course the month for sprouts, which is a prospect that fills you all with deep joy, I’m sure. But, leeks are about, and cabbages. The winter classics of swede and parsnip are too, and potatoes. And why not try your hand at preparing some jerusalem artichokes?

Beyond vegetables, halibut and mussels are good right now, and so is guinea fowl, if you want to try something a bit different. It’s a good time to eat cod too, but look out for the Pacific variety rather than Atlantic, which is vanishing.

Check out the BBC’s food pages for some seasonal cooking inspiration, and remember - you don’t need to be a martyr to seasonal food. You can still treat yourself. There’s nothing wrong with a few luxuries. The important thing is that we begin to recognise the true cost of our food, and that we appreciate which foods are the luxuries, and which ones are the staples.

The other day I was rooting through an old copy of the Idler in search of a Tom Hodgkinson quote I was after, which I didn’t find. I did find this though, in the editorial to Idler 36, written in 2005:

“The injection of money and capital into societies inevitably causes more problems than it solves. Which is why today’s money-worshippers such as Geldof, Curtis and Bono are barking up the wrong tree when they say they want to make poverty history. It is not poverty that is the problem; peasant cultures have lower levels of stress and higher levels of freedomand fun than hard-work, rich cultures. No, wealth is is the problem and the only effective campaign would be Make Wealth History.”

So there you go. We kind of knew we weren’t the only ones to think of it, and that’s now at least four people who got their first.

How to Free Yourself from Anxiety, Fear, Mortgages, Money, Guilt, Debt, Government, Boredom, Supermarkets, Bills, MelaTom Hodgkinson, by the way, though prone to slightly rose-tinted views of peasant culture, has two fine books out that are actually far more important than their ‘humour section’ classification might suggest - How to be Idle and How to be Free.

American readers should also note that How to be Free has just been launched in a US edition called The Freedom Manifesto.

‘How much is enough?’ is a question usually posed with a sigh and a shrug. It belongs in the same category as ‘how long is a piece of string?’ - it’s an abstraction, best dealt with in general terms. And it’s mobile. Everyone has their own idea of how much money or stuff they need, but then their wages go up and lo and behold, so does their concept of enough.

But, I’m writing about the question today because two books I’ve been reading recently have both managed to put a pretty precise figure on it. According to John Naish in his book ‘Enough‘, you will be content if you stay “on or slightly above the median-earning level of your country and avoid competing socially in materialistic terms.” That makes ‘enough’ around £355 a week.

So now you know.

Meanwhile in ‘The Selfish Capitalist‘, Oliver James declares that to meet all your basic living requirements in the UK would “require an annual income of only £15,000″.

I can concur. Not so long ago I lived perfectly happily on these sorts of numbers. So is that really enough? That depends on what you value most, and whether you actually want enough. If you like time more than money, for example, that’s enough. If you like cars and holidays, then clearly no, it isn’t. But it can be, and that’s the important thing. It’s there for those that want it, and some people take it.

Ronald Sider wanted to give more away, and so developed a formula to work out what him and his family would keep from what he earned. Starting with the American official poverty line for a family of four, which was some $18,000 at the time, he gives away an increasing percentage for every thousand dollars he earns over that figure.

John Wesley worked out that he could live on £28 a year. (This was the 1720s mind you)  At the time he earned £30, so he gave the remaining two. By the end of his life he was earning £1,400 a year as a successful author, but he still lived on £28.

The management guru Charles Handy sits down with his wife at the beginning of the year and they work out how much they need, add 20% for luck, and take just enough speaking engagements to match that amount.

Tom Hodgkinson of the Idler is a big advocate of enough. He argues that all work should be divided into ten three and a half hour shifts each week, and we could choose to work as many of those as we needed. At some points in our life we would work all ten, at other times five or six.

Of course the point in all this is that enough is where you choose to find it. It has certain parameters - a floor, and no ceiling - you probably do have enough, but whether you recognise it or not depends whether you look up or down.

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