Costing not less than everything

As so often before, I've left a long time between posts. But being greenish has been looming large in my awareness lately, and a good deal of the reason has been this year's Swarthmore Lecture.

The Swarthmore is an annual lecture given at the time of the Quaker Yearly Meeting, the annual nationwide get-together for decision making and inspiration, and 'to see each other's faces'. This year it was residential at the University of Kent at Canterbury, with some 1500 Quakers and their families, including the Junior Yearly Meeting for 16-18 year olds: my lovely granddaughter was one of the Clerks (chair people). The Swarthmore was given by Pam Lunn, with the title at the head of this entry - it comes from T S Eliot's well known 'Four Quartets'.

The lecture was both information and a challenge: it showed that for the human race to survive we need to act now in radical ways, and set out a path for saving the planet with us still on it. My response, as the lecture called for, was both personal - what I will do myself - and corporate, thinking of what Quakers collectively might do.

One thing I've been aware of for some time is how fortunate I am to have the immense luxury of a whole house to myself. Yes, it's only a little two bed mid terrace house in the North East of England, not everyone's idea of a des res, but in global terms it's unashamed luxury, not that far removed from the Queen living in Buckingham Palace (which she doesn't have to herself anyway). So I've suggested that several single people might live communally, having their own living space within a largish house but sharing things you don't need to have exclusive use of, like a washing machine and a lawnmower, and even a car. My own little yellow treasure, Buttercup, stays in my back yard more days than not: someone else could be using her if they needed a car rather than buying one themselves. She's very low emissions (and hence costs only £30 a year to tax) and economical to run. I put this suggestion in our local Quaker newsletter, and so far have had one positive response.

Corporately, it occurred to me that the world-wide Quaker body is running a gathering next year in Kenya, and inviting a thousand Quakers to it from all over the world. Most will fly, and for most it will mean a long haul flight, if not two. The carbon footprint will be huge. So I've written to 'The Friend', the national Quaker weekly periodical, calling for it to be cancelled as a way of matching our actions to our words. If they publish it, it will undoubtedly stir up some controversy. But I'm serious: 'Quakers cancel international conference to avoid carbon footprint' would make a good headline, and show that we are serious in calling for radical action to halt global warming and help sustain the planet. The conferences, normally every three years, do bring Quakers together on a global level, and are (I'm told, I've never been to one) enjoyable and inspiring occasions. But I don't think any major outcome has resulted from any of the previous ones, and to make a very public act of reducing our contribution to greenhouse gases might well have a bigger and more beneficial result for the planet as a whole. So my call is a serious one. I'll try to keep up on here with the consequences, if indeed the letter is published in the first place.

I'm uncomfortably aware, of course, that last year I flew some thirty thousand miles to Australia and Aetearoa New Zealand and back, travelling amongst Quakers in the former and holidaying with my sister in the latter. I've wanted to go back to Australia ever since: but I'm beginning to sense that my own contribution to this movement will be not to do so. I can't even really justify the one long haul flight I'm likely to make before I settle to being an old lady, to India to see the Taj Mahal: it will be simply self indulgence, and maybe when the time comes I'll eschew that one too. And going back to Los Gigantes in Tenerife: that may take some soul-searching. But you don't have to be perfect to suggest good deeds to others: if you did then none of us would make any such suggestions, and the world would be a poorer place. It does remind me of an old prayer, 'Lord, make me chaste, but not yet....'. Apart from the Australia trip, I'd done only six long haul return flights in my life, plus twice to Tenerife and back: more than some, less than others. But maybe nobody is 'entitled' to a share of air travel: on a planetary level, we should all be campaigning for its abolition, however unlikely that may seem.

Maybe I'll go by boat.....