Go on, be brave

Maurice, who lives in the other half of our house, claims we are the highest plateau dwellers in England. I doubt he’s right but he’s of such venerable age and has lived here so long, I allow that he might once have been.

Certainly we dress for a different climate. Clad in three layers more clothing than other shoppers, we are unmistakable hillbillies in town. But we do have vistas. Four miles west across the Stonehouse valley lies the River Severn, with the low wooded hills of the Forest of Dean beyond and the Black Mountains our clear day horizon. A few points south on the opposite ridge is the wind turbine.

Much of the UK eco-debate lies in this view. The Severn, a placid snake now, is a winter’s nightmare for riverside folk as more and more upstream development spills storm water into it – water destined to flood their kitchens and living rooms. The developers are as immune to their action as our forefathers who tipped their chamber pots into the street.

And what of our turbine? Well, it actually fits our landscape and our odd green psyches, and perhaps two or three more would look as well. But a full-scale wind farm along the whole ridge would be ruinous. And here lies the rub. To make a difference to UK emissions with land-based wind generation we’d have to go for the big wind farm – as would hundreds of other places. But country folk are not ready to industrialise their landscapes, destroying the very thing that defines rural Britain.

The developers are as immune to their actions as our forebears who tipped their chamber pots into the street

Most of the members of our government are townies who probably find wind turbines beautiful. But thankfully, they are part of a democratic tradition that shies from the kind of progressive diktat that would result in hundreds of wind farms sprouting across our hillsides. After all, we were still arguing the route of our high speed rail link to the Channel Tunnel when the French had theirs finished. The time is not conducive to big decisions, but as we vacillate, doing only small things that can be stampeded past minor lobbies, we inevitably advance an energy future based on another generation of nuclear power stations.

This really seems to be the last moment to do something big, imaginative and above all, inspirational with renewables. There was once talk of a Severn Barrage downstream that would harness one of the world’s highest tidal ranges to generate more than 10 nuclear plants. Certainly it would be “big” and ambitious (second only to “courageous” in Sir Humphrey Appleby’s lexicon of political recklessness in Yes Minister). It would also be imaginative, giving us new views and recreational amenities while sheltering precious low lands from rising sea levels. Of course it would change some prized eco-systems – and create new ones. But couldn’t it be a good thing, because nothing we do now to harness renewables is without impacts? Wouldn’t it be a political inspiration that might predispose my community and others like us to accept some more wind turbines and perhaps even enable acquiescence to a new nuclear plant here and there?

It would give Margaret Beckett, secretary of state for environment, food and rural affairs, a serious plan to deal with our greenhouse gases. I feel for her, having to carry the can for the fact that the government is failing to meet its manifesto promises and to fulfil the country’s Kyoto obligations, while prime minister Tony Blair simultaneously waxes lyrical about the importance of tackling the climate change. Now would be the time to be courageous (shut up Sir Humphrey) and do something monumental and inspirational. Once set on course, other things may become less difficult.