The way It Could Be
Part 8 of 12
As they walked back to the house carrying the baskets
Jan said, “Mike, we’ve been
studying you
closely, and we think we have come to the conclusion that you could do it.”
“Do what?”
“Cope with a visit to the doctor, to Dr. Bernie
Finlay. You will probably have
difficulty with
it, but we think you should go?”
“Visit the doctor. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“There will be.”
“What?
What kind of doctor leaves you worse off after the visit.”
“Doctor of Divinity actually. She doctors to souls mostly.”
“Wrecks souls mostly,” said Jan. “I’ve seen unrepairable damage
inflicted in
microseconds.”
“OK you’re being mysterious again, but I’m game. Where is this DD of yours.”
“”That’s the spirit son! But prepare yourself for a shock. Don’t say we didn’t warn you.
Coming
Jan?”
“No fear.
You’re on your own. Just
dump him outside and run Pete.”
Ten minutes later they were
back on the bikes. Mike marvelled
at how each time they left the house they seemed to take a different path
through the jungle, with more new and diverse things to look at. When he mentioned this Pete
said, “I’d say that within fifteen minutes bike ride from our house there would
be more than a hundred interesting little nooks or caves or pagodas or castles
where you can have afternoon tea or the kids can explore. It’s a very leisure-rich landscape.”
As they were free wheeling
down a slope Pete said, almost to himself, “Ha, she’s done it again.”
“Done what?”
“Oh, old Gaia. Look, see that pothole in the wheel
track there. Would you believe
that’s been there on and off for as long as I’ve been in this region. We filled it again recently, but it’s
back. It’s the hydrology, the
ground water must be flowing this way.
For year’s working bees have filled it, even heaped soil up there, but
Gaia always slowly digs it out again.
So we more or less accept her decision on it now, we mostly just move
over and run our wheels along the side a bit. That way Gaia does what she wants and we get by. Best to let her do what she wants if you can, and figure out
how you can get what you want while accommodating to her ways.”
“We’d bring in a bulldozer
and a truck load of tar. Wouldn’t
let a mere pot hole beat us,” Mike joked.
“Yes, that’s the industrial
way. Force nature to do what she
doesn’t want to do, like grow one crop from horizon to horizon, keeping out all
the weeds with tractors and chemicals.
Very unwise to mess with Gaia.
She’s very patient, and always has the last say.”
“
After about fifteen minutes they entered thick forest. The path was only wide enough for single file. They soon came out into a clearing, containing what looked like a little farm. There was a vegetable garden, an orchard, a small dam and ducks and chickens roaming on the banks. In the center was a tiny shack made from mud bricks and roofed with bark like the old settlers’ huts. At one end of the hut was a stone fire place. Around the door was an odd collection of tools, boxes, fire wood and buckets, and a pumpkin vine had grown up over the two sheets of corrugated iron that served as a veranda above the front door. Some metres away were a few small sheds, with water tanks attached. Beside the front door was a neat little flower garden, making the scene fit or a travel brochure, but Mike wondered what kind of person would live here?
Pete led to the door, having to stoop to get under
the sapling supporting the veranda roof.
Close behind him Mike looked through the open door
into the single room. Bookshelves
lined the opposite wall, a table was covered in
papers. Above the fire place hung
iron
pans and pots.
Closer to the door was a bunk and beside it plain wooden shelves stacked
with folded clothes. It seemed somewhere between a peasant’s hovel and a cattleman’s
bush hut, but quite neat and tidy.
“Must be out the back”, said Pete and called
out. A reply came from somewhere
so they
walked around the hut and towards the sheds. Before
they got there a figure emerged
from one, head bent to get out under the low
eaves. When it straightened
up Mike halted in his tracks. It was a rather attractive middle aged
woman. She was
clad in old overalls, carrying an axe, and smiling.
“Mike, meet Dr. Bernie Finlay.”
“Pleased to meet you Mike. But call me Bernie. I’m sure Pete and Jan will have given
you a
totally wrong impression of me.
Would you like something to drink after your ride.
Sorry
its mostly up hill to here from Pete’s place. I don’t have the problem because I go
to town on Francis, my donkey. “
“No thanks.
Not long had morning tea. I
must admit you are not quite what I
expected…actually not remotely what I expected, to be quite
honest.”
“Let me show you around my
little fairyland. Pete did I tell
you the chicks have hatched out.
Come and see.” She strode off, heading for another low shed. On the way Pete pointed to a small wire
netting pen. “Chicken tractor.”
“Now Pete, city slicker I
might be, but those are not chickens.
I can tell.”
“She’s got the guinea pigs
in there now, but the idea is that you move the pen when the animals have mowed
that patch of grass, or fertilized and scratched up a vege garden bed. I like the pen made in a cylinder using
two bicycle rims, so the lil’ critters roll it to new grass all on their own.
Fully automated self-regulating system.”
After the chickens Bernie
showed Mike other Permaculture features she had made. The poultry were rotated around four vegetable gardens and
the orchard. Waste water from the
house ran down to ponds and then to a drip system around fruit trees. In two of the sheds shelves were
stocked with bottled fruit, dried corn, strings of onions and bins with apples
and potatoes. A tiny shed contained
bee keeping equipment and harness for
Francis. The workshop had a
drill, a grindstone and wood turning lathe operated by pedals, made from an old
bike. A small windmill with canvas
sails operated water pumps and a single solar panel powered lights, radio and
computer. However most of the
lighting came from candles, made from the bees wax. Bernie explained that a candle throws a lot of light but it
usually goes all over the place.
She had a reading light made from a single candle placed at the focal
point in a parabolic paper mache dish lined with bits of broken mirror. “I often use the 12 volt electric lights, but if I’m going
to sit and write or read for some time I prefer this one.”
“”What a fabulous spot,”
said Mike. “But what led you to
live like this?”
“”Time to reveal all Mike, “said Pete. “Can we sit in your chook house Bernie?”
“Yes, this way.
Mind the geese. They’re on
eggs and the males can get a bit
aggressive. ”
She took them around one of the sheds to a low lean-to, completely
covered
with vines except on the open side which overlooked reed beds and willows on
the edge
of the dam.
”I don’t keep the chickens in here any more Pete, but
I still call it the chook house,
although it is mostly used for having a cuppa with
friends or visitors.”
“Reveal what?” said Mike.
Pete said, “As you might expect people in The Glen
have different ideas about
The world. I’d say everyone
accepts that consumer society is unsustainable and there has to be radical
change. But I think we differ most
in what we think is an appropriate
response to the
situation. Jan and I believe it’s
important to live very frugally, but Bernie
goes much further than we do and we thought you might
find her thinking interesting.” He
looked across to Bernie, handing the stage to her.
“I’m sure you are asking yourself why would this
middle aged lady with three degrees
and a middle class English accent be living in a
place like this. Well, basically
its
because, … I suppose its just because I’m kind of
selfish. It gets me closer to
peace of mind
than any other way could. It eases the torment somewhat.” She paused, as if
working out how to proceed, then said casually, “Have
you ever had to sell any of
children Mike?”
“What?
No.” Where was this
leading?
“Me either. But many people do you know, to get the
money in an emergency to buy food
for the others. I’ve seen it. My order worked in North Africa. Several hundred million people live in conditions that do things
like that to them, chronically hungry, and something like 30,000 children will
die today, basically because they don’t get enough food or clean water. You can sterilize dangerously
contaminated water if you have fuel to boil it, but they can’t get any because it is all sold to rich people to
put into their cars and
speedboats.
The poverty and misery and the death rates are a consequence of the
distribution of world resources. If you have a sports car then others
can’t have the
resources and the fuel you have in that car. The rich countries are taking most of
the
world’s resources and about three billion people
don’t get enough for tolerable lives.
I’m
sure you know all this. I can go down to the co-op and buy coffee or a shirt. The coffee
was probably grown in Colombia on land that should
have been growing beans for
hungry peasants. The people who make the shirt would have been paid 15c an
hour.
Obviously they’d be far better off if they could
spend their time in their own little firms and
farms, producing to meet their needs, but that would
be a disaster for me wouldn’t it.
I
might get no coffee, and I’d certainly have to pay a
lot more for it. My rich world
living
standards are a function of their deprivation and
poverty; it’s a zero sum game. If
the
limited resources come to me they can’t go to
them. I get more than my fair
share of the
available resources don’t I, and the global economy
devotes much of their labour to
producing cheap goods for
me.” She paused. “Do I have this
right or do you think I’m making a mistake somewhere?”
Mike said nothing.
“Well…it just all gets to me. I find it very disturbing to think that
I’m consuming what
others
don’t get and desperately need.
I’m consuming the products of their labour at
miniscule benefit to them. As I see it the core problem, the basic cause of the global
mess, is simply affluence. A few insist on living far more resource-expensively than is
possible for all, although the rest want to do the
same, and that directly generates all the
big problems, the
deprivation, the conflicts over resources, the destruction of ecosystems.”
Mike didn’t feel pressured to respond. Bernie was clearly just explaining her
outlook
rather than engaging in an
argument.
“So you see I find it distressing to be a part of it,
and living here the way I do reduces the
extent to which I’m a
cause. Mind you there’s no sense
of deprivation or hardship for me
in it. I love this place
and the way I live. I wouldn’t
change even if there were no global
problems, but given that there are, living very
frugally here gives me more peace of mind
than I would otherwise have, not that it’s a
lot. If affluent living standards
are the basic
cause of the big problems then I’m going to have as
little to do with them as I possibly
can. I
just find wealth, consumption, and luxury profoundly disturbing, repulsive in
fact.”
“Don’t you get lonely?”
“No. My order was a contemplative one. I’m used to living with my own thoughts
a lot. I can go into town now and
then. Anyway I’ve always got my
friend Francis to talk to, and the geese and the chickens and the frogs.”
It suddenly occurred to him
to bring Pete in. ”How do you see it all, Pete. You don’t live like
Bernie. Do you see it
differently?”
Pete thought for some time,
chin in hand. “No. I don’t think so, as far as
understanding how the world works.
But Jan and I do live differently of course, so you might say we respond
to the situation differently. It’s
complicated I think. It would be a
better world if we all lived more like Bernie, but I believe that what Jan and
I do is sufficient, that is, that all people could live sustainably if they
moved to the ways we have adopted in The Glen. Now it is extremely difficult to
get people in the mainstream to consider that big a transition. It would be even more difficult to get
them to consider changing to Bernie’s lifestyle.”
Bernie said, “I must say I
agree with Pete. The Glen is
sufficient. That’s a way all the
world’s people could live well, in a sustainable and just world. It’s just that I want to be even less
complicit in the global economy.”
Pete said, “See Jan and I do
buy some things through the co-op that come from transnational corporations
operating in the Third World, and Bernie tries harder not to do that. Our general view however is that that’s
one of the many compromises we feel we have to make to have the time and energy
to focus on our main goal, which is developing The Glen as an educational
venture and helping to run the visit program. I’m not disagreeing with Bernie’s analysis or response. In
fact I wouldn’t mind going to her level of frugality and self sufficiency. Jan and I are more culpable than she
is, more a part of the problem, because we consume more than she does, and
that’s disturbing, but we live with it.
We avoid really evil things, like travel.”
“Air travel is such a
worry,” Bernie said almost to herself.
“Evil? How’s that?” said
Mike, with a slight note of indignation.
Bernie gazed into the
distance for a few seconds, then she looked at him with a faint smile and said,
“I guess its because I don’t like killing people, especially children.”
Mike was surprised at
himself becoming angry. What kind
of cute smart-ass retort was that, and how’s she going to construe travel as
murder. Yet he knew he should be
polite. Remaining silent would be
an acceptable strategy, but this had better be good.
“If I flew to London for
that conference the aircraft would burn 250 tonnes of jet fuel, and as much
coming back. I’ve never worked it
out but I would think you could sterilise a lot of contaminated water with that
much fuel. At least 10,000
children die every day in poor countries because their families have to use
dangerously dirty water. And they
know it’s deadly. So I couldn’t
feel content with using up fuel to get me to the other side of the world and
back when I know that a direct consequence is that that fuel is not available
to sterilize that much drinking water.
It’s a zero sum game. If I
use the fuel they can’t. It’s the
same with a sports car or a stereo. Those things take resources to produce and
if you have them someone else in greater need doesn’t.”
“But that’s not the
choice. If you didn’t go the plane
would still fly there.”
“Yes, but it shouldn’t be
flying there, half full of tourists and half full of executives from
corporations producing things we don’t need, while there are much more urgent
uses for the fuel. At least, far
fewer people should be flying, and I wouldn’t be content to be one of
them. Do you think I am mistaken?
“ she asked quietly, almost as if seeking assistance in working it out.
Mike didn’t know what to say, being aware that he could find
himself discussing his own travel record, and that wouldn’t compare favourably
with Bernie’s. And thank God he
had come to The Glen by train and hadn’t driven. No need to reveal any of that. He was rapidly developing skill in looking at the floor,
remaining silent and giving the impression that he was considering the point
carefully and sympathetically…which he was.
After a pause Bernie said,
“It’s wider than travel of course.
Wealth is evil – and ugly and stupid. I despise wealth.”
What surprised Mike was the
feeling that had come into her manner, previously so mild and unemotional. Now there was a distinct note of
bitterness. He said nothing, but
both knew she needed to elaborate.
“Look, if you have wealth
then you have more than you need and so you have things others can’t have,
because there’s not enough for all to be wealthy. If you have wealth you have more than your fair share and
others must therefore be deprived of a fair share. If you have a car you have quantities of aluminium and steel
and copper that are therefore not available to others are they? The lives of billions of people could
be greatly improved if they could get a better share of those things. So the wealth, the affluent lifestyles
of a few of the world’s people, actually kills many others. So how else should
we regard wealth and those who seek it as other than ugly, stupid and evil?”
Pete said, “You know, tribal societies seem to
understand this. They somehow know
that
it endangers cohesion if some
individuals begin to get wealthy and therefore independent, and they have
mechanisms to prevent too much inequality from developing. Our society here in The Glenn can’t be
strong unless there’s a high degree of solidarity, feeling of togetherness,
comradeship, mutuality, readiness to help each other, and all that would
be jeopardized by inequality. If a few get much richer than the rest,
and cause the impoverishment of some by taking over their business, then you
aren’t going to have as much cohesion are you, as much willingness to work
together on the working bees for the public good. So wealth is a problem. It’s best for society if you are all somewhat poor in material
terms. I don’t mean deprived. I mean living with frugal sufficiency,
because that makes you realise your dependence on others, and therefore you
focus on developing good relations and good social systems and good public
facilities as your main sources of necessities, enjoyment and security. Wealth is not good for the spirit,
especially for community spirit.”
“I agree,” said Bernie, “But I would go further. Wealth is not just a problem for
equity, or
for social cohesion. Wealth is repulsive stuff.”
Mike
said with a smile, “The quest for wealth is the core driver of Western civilization. Eleanor might agree it can be
dangerous, like I believe many lottery winners get into difficulties, but she
couldn‘t doubt that it was very attractive and desirable stuff. Everyone wants it. Are you sure you want to use the word
repulsive?”
“Yes. I have great difficulty associating
with people who want wealth. I am
upset, disgusted if I have to go to a specialist doctor and deal with a person
who wants and take so much and has a big house and expensive car and holidays
abroad. A mind that wants those
things is warped, at best genuinely pathetic, an object of pity. It reveals to me a disappointing
vulgarity, a retardedness…to think that this person would value such things, as
if your fifteen year old still got a kick out of stepping on ants. To me it reveals a tragic gullibility –
the poor fellow has missed the point of life. He’s fallen for the seductions of consumer culture. I might admire his professional skill,
but he’s not an admirable person.”
“What
annoys me most,” said Pete, “is not the crass, squandering of the very rich,
it’s the mindless obsession of the middle class with their property and their
wine racks and their mansions and their fine furniture. These are the people who have the
capacity to understand and act, but they‘d rather think about getting a new
car, renovating and improving their share portfolios. Our real wealth, living in The Glen, isn’t private. It’s all the things and the people and
the institutions and the festivals and the security and the workshop and the landscape
that we have access to, and these are public property. That’s why I’m happy to pay tax. Look at all the things it provides for
me.”
Bernie said, “People in The
Glen aren’t interested in wealth anyway.
It just isn’t
important around here.”
“If I won the lottery how could that improve my
quality of life here?” Pete asked.
“My quality of life comes from my garden, my friends,
Gran’s cooking, the pottery group,
the wood fire on a winter evening. Secondly, we take steps to prevent
differences in
wealth becoming significant, for example by not
buying all our bread from one baker and
making sure Murray has income by buying from him even
if he was not as good at baking
as Sam.”
At last Mike said, “Well, I
have thought about things like this from time to time. It’s a matter of how you come to terms
with the situation. I mean we all
know things are crook in many parts of the world, but, quite frankly, what the
hell can I do about it. Worrying
about it won’t do much good. I
actually give to charity, not much, but I do, now and then. If I knew something that would make a
significant difference I’d probably do it.” Then, after a pause, “Look, quite frankly, what difference
do you make by refusing to travel?”
Pete said, “You weren’t to
know but Bernie writes a lot, on global justice issues.”
Mike came back a little too
quickly, “That’s not really the point. That might make a difference, but living
here so frugally, what does that do?
Should I do that?”
“Oh I’m definitely not
saying that,” said Bernie. “As I
said, I live the way I do essentially for selfish reasons. If I lived the consumer way I would
have much less peace of mind. I
see the affluent consumer way as the direct cause of the problems, so the less
I have to do with it the less troubled I am at contributing to the
problems. That’s all.”
Mike again remained silent.
“Bernie’s not telling you
how to live, or to quit travelling. But that’s a problem you have Mike, isn’t
it?”
“Not if I ignore it.”
Pete said, “Which is what
most people do of course…so the mass of global problems remain festering
on. Your problem young Michael is
that it is probably going to be a notch more difficult for you to ignore all
that after coming here.”
Mike nodded. “Where then do
you find peace of mind?”
“Well I don’t think you
can,” said Pete. “Terrible things
are happening and rich world greed is responsible for most of them and you and
I are locked into that and can’t avoid involvement. There’s no way you can feel OK in such a situation. As I see it the best you can do is make
some contribution towards the radical changes that will eliminate the problems
some day in the distant future.
That reduces the unease, but there’s no way to avoid the moral dilemmas
set by being part of the cause.”
Bernie said, “I recall
Germain Greer was once asked if she was happy. She snapped back, ‘I’m not feeble minded!’ If you understand
and care about the global situation then you have a problem and it can be hard
to come to an accommodation that enables you to enjoy life, and do important
things without being crippled, but without becoming indifferent. It’s a fine line I don’t walk too
effectively I’m afraid.”
“And on the topic of peace
of mind,” said Pete,” here’s one of the main torments we suffer. Have you ever had that dream where you
have discovered the cure for arthritis, or an anti-gravity device or a
perpetual motion machine. So
important, so valuable, but no one will take any notice of you! Mike we could be wrong of course, but
we firmly believe we have the solution to the global mess. Maybe 40,000 deaths
each day from avoidable hunger and illness, an average of 5,000 war deaths a
day right throughout the last century, three billion poor people, ecosystems
being destroyed. Why? In a word, the fundamental causal
factor is simply greed.
People want living standards they can’t have without using more than
their fair share and more than the planet can provide, and therefore without
generating vicious deprivation and conflicts. The answer therefore can only be The Simpler Way. If you all accepted it, bingo! More or less all of those terrible
problems would cease to exist. And
what’s more, its extremely easy to do!
No sacrifice. In fact you
leap ahead in quality of life. But
no one will listen! How do you
think it feels to believe you have the answer but they won’t listen and you
have to watch them all just go marching past you to their doom. It’s like pleading with someone to get
off the railway track because the train’s coming, and they won’t take any
notice. Peace of mind!”
“Your tea alright Michael?”,
Bernie asked.
Mike wondered what that had
to do with the topic. “Yes,
unusual but a nice taste.”
“Yes. I enjoyed mine.”
“Look at y our cup.”
Mike looked at his empty cup
but before he could say anything Bernie said, “It’s about fifteen years
old. I made it. It’s cracked and has chips out of the
rim now. But that did that make
your tea any different? It’s a
good-enough cup isn’t it? Old,
repaired things are usually quite good-enough. In fact I think they are morally and aesthetically
superior. I don’t like new
things. That’s one reason I don’t
go to the city, all that glittering, polished surface and varnished wood and
stainless steel. Mostly
unnecessary and wasteful. New
things are more resources that have been used up. We should minimise that. I like using old things and I see them admirable, noble,
battered but still plodding along.
Look at Pete’s boots.
Wouldn’t they make a great still life painting.”
After another pause Mike
said,”…and when I came here, from what Pete and Jan said, I only feared
physical mutilation. But you are
seriously dangerous; you maul the spirit.”
“Don’t blame Bernie. She’s only told you what you already
know, what everyone knows.”
“Yes, but not what everyone
feels, that’s the problem isn’t it?’ said Mike.
“Yes it is. If people felt
the significance of what they know is happening, then we’d fix all the problems
before supper tonight.”
“As I see it” Bernie said,
“its not that people see a problem and then ignore it. It’s that they don’t see the problem in
the first place. Most people
simply do not see any moral problem with having a too-big house or flying in an
aeroplane or owning a four wheel drive car, or buying more clothes than they
need. If you told them that when
they do those things they are helping to kill people and start wars and drive
species to extinction they would be stunned and annoyed. Yet it’s the pursuit of affluence
that’s the ultimate evil on this planet; it’s the direct cause of the big
problems. If you insist on having
rich world living standards, which are totally impossible for all to have, then
you must take far more than your fair share of world resources, you must resort
to thuggery or deceit to get them, and you must support brutal regimes willing
to run their economies in the ways that suit our corporations. And you must be prepared to support the
military action that is needed to deal with any threat to your empire. When Fred Ordinary buys his four-wheel
drive he is fuelling all this. But
he never sees it, let alone feels it appropriately.”
“And its never pointed out
to him by any of his political leaders, economists, teachers or
journalists. But that’s about to
change, isn’t it Mike?’“ said Pete with a smile.
Mike remained silent
again. Bernie saw that it was past
time for a change of pace. She stood up saying, “But you should not think I am
about hair shirts, deprivation and hardship, or suffering in order to save the
planet. I have everything I want
here. My beautiful little house is
quite adequate. I eat perfect food.
Hear that bullfrog, he’s the leader of percussion in my orchestra when
the sun goes down. Must be three
million frogs in that little dam.
Morning soloists are butcher birds and maggies, the dull clunky tinkling
of the goat’s bells, or Francis bellowing when he knows I’m bringing him the
potato peelings. My bed cost
nothing, because I made it, and it’s perfect. There is no way in the universe it could be improved or you
could buy me a more comfortable one.
The mattress and eiderdown are filled with years of feathers from my
poultry. One of life’s greatest delights is to roll into bed on a winter night
tired after a long day’s work and snuggle into that softness and warmth. No one’s richer than I am. Mind you, I do use a very high
tech bed warming system.”
“Ha!” Pete roared. “Do you know what she
does? On a really cold night she
stands a brick to heat up on the side of the open fire and half an hour before
she turns in she wraps it up in a bag and puts it in the bed. Some high-tech, huh?”
“But, Peter, the judgement
and experience required! Could you
position that brick at just the right distance out, in view of the size of the
fire, the coldness of the night, and whether the logs are Mollucana or
Casuarina? Long ago, before I
graduated in this, I actually set fire to a bed, well at least it began to
smoulder, because my brick was so hot…”
“But she couldn’t get a
patent on it. It’s the way the old
bushies used to do bed warming. It
is very effective. A brick can
hold a lot of heat. My dad used to
do it. Middle of the night
when his feet were too hot you’d hear a crash as he kicked the brick out.”
----------
As they free wheeled back
down the hill Pete said, “It’s a fairyland isn’t lit? She’s been there for years, gradually creating her patch,
learning how to do things best in that situation, like where best to put the
mill and what direction storms come from and what’s the fire danger side;
that’s where the dam is now.
Settlement design is so important, at the village level and at the tiny
homestead level. You have to make
sure you’re not working against what nature wants to do.”
“Seems so unusual, a single
woman living way out in the forest.”
“Not
really. See, Bernie’s one of our
homesteaders. There’re lots of
them, in single households on little patches. Sometimes there will be two or three close together. A few more in a cluster and you’d call
it a hamlet. Actually the
countryside around here is packed with homesteaders and hamlets. Ideally there’d then be a very small
city within an hour of any little town like the Glen, giving access to much
more centralised things like theatres, museums, a university college, a big
library and a central hospital.”
“Know
what’s eating me now?” said Mike.
“No. What?”
“You’re
all so bloody serious. Doesn’t
anybody around here want to discuss the cricket.”
“Yes,
yes, sorry, you’re right I’m afraid.”
Then after a pause, “What’s
cricket.?”
Jan smiled faintly as they
came in. “You were right,” Mike
said, “That doctor’s bad for your health.” Jan didn’t respond, but offered him a cool drink. Neither felt much desire to talk. Dr. Bernie would probably come up on
the agenda before long. “Dinner in
twenty minutes.”
“Good. I might as well get into that bundle of
work.”
Mike went upstairs, took the
folder from the bedside table and came down to sit on the back veranda. He had only opened the folder when Amy
came through the arch and onto the lawn, slowly wheeling a bike with some difficulty. She saw Mike and stopped.
“What’s up?”
“Had a bust up. Chain’s off and I got a flat tyre.”
“You OK?”
“Yeah. Bike’s not.”
“Does look a bit sick. I’ll see if I can sort it out if you
like.”
“Alright.”
He came down onto the lawn
and took the bike.
“Hey, you barked your
knee. Sore?”
“No.”
“Maybe you should go in and
put something on it.”
“It’s OK.”
Mike realized she was being
a bit aloof, clearly he had not yet been forgiven. Getting the chain on wasn’t difficult. “Did the tyre suddenly go flat?”
“No. It’s been going down for some time,
slowly, since I fell off.”
“Got a pump handy?”
“Yes, in the shed where the
bikes are kept.”
He wheeled the bike down to
the shed while Amy went ahead, limping a little, and soon came out with a pump.
Mike checked the valve. “I think something must have hit the
valve and loosened it slightly.
I’ve tightened it. I’ll put
a bit of huff and puff into the tyre and we’ll see if it holds up. If not it’s
probably a small leak in the tube so we’ll have to get the tyre off later.”
“Alright…thanks.” She was warming up a little. “How do you know about bikes?”
“Because I have a twelve
year old and he wrecks his bike all the time. Tries to do too many smart stunts to impress his mates.”
“What’s his name?”
“Allen.”
Amy smiled faintly and said,
“Allen another alien. Thanks for
fixing it,” then turned and walked towards the steps.
“Well,” thought Mike, “We made up a little ground there…oops, that’s a somewhat military analogy, probably not acceptable around here. Gawd, am I starting to think like the natives? Could jeopardize my alien status.”
When Mike came back into the kitchen Pete was helping Gran with the spinning wheel. Jan said, “There’s a town meeting tonight. Hope you are happy to come along.”
“OK. But look, there’s still a lot missing.”
“What?” Jan said.
“There has to bed a lot going on here that I can’t see. It just doesn’t add up. Where’s the missing work and production…the work that has to be going on somewhere to enable your lifestyle. You want me to believe you can live as well as I see you living, without working more than, you reckon about two days a week for money.”
“Herb and patty earn almost no money at all. They get all they need from their garden and from the commons and by extra contributions to working bees. That’s really a form of earning to pay for things but they hardly ever touch money.”
“But it doesn’t make sense. You use things that have been made by work, like pots and stoves and houses. You haven’t explained fully how these things get produced on so little work. You make it look as if you can have all this stuff without much effort. I can see how you get some things, like carrots but that doesn’t account for all you have. There’s some slight of hand here somewhere… It’s just not possible to have your comfortable lifestyle without lots of factories and offices and getting up when the alarm clock goes off, to go and do a lot of work, and…”
“Bingo!”
“What?”
“Spot on. That’s precisely what we have been teasing you to say all day! You have seen the question. Best if you ask it because you recognise it, rather than we try to explain a problem before you see it.” “
What?”
“How do we live so well doing so little work? If only the other 6 billion of you would recognise that’s the question. Well, part of the answer is that we don’t consume much that needs work. We live simply and make things last. Secondly we get much of what we want from the commons without having to earn money to pay for it. Jan and I never buy fruit. We get all we need and bottle a lot, from our trees and from the community orchards. Same with nuts, herbs, honey and fish, firewood and lots of other things…eggs…entertainment. Next our local economy cuts huge chunks off the work your economy involves. We need no trucks to bring us our food, or furniture. We need no bit multibillion dollar global systems to bring us TV and entertainment. We make our own… and it’s better than yours! We don’t need bit kilns to make bricks to build our houses. None of the products we use includes an advertising cost, a packaging cost, a transport from the other side of the world cost, n outrageous CEO salary cost. That’s all work saved, so don’t be surprised when you chop off all those unnecessary forms of work we need far far less of it than you do”
“It’s a diminishing returns thing Mike. In your economy vast amounts of work have to go into getting people to their jobs every day in cars, and building the freeways and petrol stations. Hot here! We walk or take a bike, two days a week. You have to work had much of the time just to maintain the unnecessarily complex systems you use to make things. So there’s nothing hidden; no slight of hand. The point is it is very easy to produce all you need for a great way of life, if you live simply and organise locally.”
Jan to the rescue, “Enough, enough. Tell Mike what the meeting’s about.”
Pete found the sheet with
about 10 items listed, beginning with Andy’s dog, Gym hours, and Murphy’s loan.
“It’s a regular
meeting. They’re held every
month. Here’s a copy of the
agenda. It won’t mean much to you
I’m afraid, but we’re familiar with the history of all those issues. And some really do have a long
history.”
“I’ll say” said Jan. “Some have been on the agenda for
months.”
“Why?”
“Because we can’t decide
yet. We chew them over again and
see if they have sorted themselves out.
If not we look again for ways to make a bit of progress and maybe give
everyone a couple more weeks to think about it.”
“For example, tonight Andy’s
dog is on the agenda. Now that’s a
very difficult and important problem.
Its whether Andy should be able to have a dog.”
“Why shouldn’t he?”
“Because one of the rules in
this town is no dogs and cats.”
“Really. Why?”
“Because they are
ecologically indefensible. They
gobble up vast quantities of food that humans could eat, packaged in energy
intensive plastic and cans. And
they kill wildlife. And anyway we
have plenty of pets around here, such as sheep and goats and ducks and
rabbits.”
“What if Andy really wants a
dog, not a duck?”
“If you really want a dog
you should wouldn’t settle in this town.
You would go to one that is happy about having dogs.”
“So why does Andy think he
should have a dog if they aren’t allowed?”
“Well, Andy is eight years
old and he’s severely intellectually retarded. A month ago his parents found out that he was mad about
having a dog. So now we have this
problem. Some people think we
should accept the proposition for his sake and some think it is an important
principle we shouldn’t break easily and at the last meeting someone pointed out
that we are not sure he couldn’t be persuaded to settle for something else.”
Jan said, “And some said
there are other similar cases which could easily arise and we’d then have the
problem of deciding one way for one and another for the next one, and where do
you draw the line.”
“At the last meeting someone
suggested what about seeing if he would like a baby Alpacca. The Andersons one door up from his
place keep a few sheep and they would be prepared to add a couple of Alpaccas
to their flock if this would solve the problem, so one could be his special
pet.”
“Would he be happy with
that? Big difference between an
Alpacca and a dog.”
“That’s right. It’s its hard to judge whether he’d be
content with one. His mum will
probably tell us tonight what she now thinks, but if its not a proposition
we’ll all have to think again.”
“But the main point I’m
making,” said Pete, “is about what people are voting for. They aren’t voting for what suits their
own self-interest. They are trying
to work out what is best for the town and for Andy and for the Andersons who
would have most of the bother if the Alpaccas don’t work out well. The differences that have prevented a solution
so far are differences about what would be the best for all concerned. That’s very different from what usually
happens where you come from. When
someone goes to vote in an election they are usually only voting for what
policy would be best for themselves.”
Gran had said little but at
this point looked at Jan. “By the way,the blue gums are on the agenda.”
“No, its not on the sheet.”
“I know, but it will come
up. I spoke to Malcolm.”
“Oh dear,” Jan said
quietly. Mike could see that she
wasn’t happy about something but he didn’t ask.
Anyway all further
discussion was cut short by a loud banging outside the door. “Aw no” said Pete. “Sir Henry’s out again. Jan jumped up and shouted. “No, you
can’t come into this kitchen ever again.
Do you remember what you did last time.” She reached the door and yanked it open, and there
standing politely with short legs and feet neatly together was a tiny but fat
bellied pony with a straw hat on his head.
Jan turned to Mike who had
come out with them and said, “This is Sir Henry. He lives next door down but he gets out whenever he can and
goes on the town, looking for open kitchen doors. Heaven is finding a bread box. You should see what he can do to an unguarded kitchen; pulls
everything down onto the floor. I’d prefer Goldilocks in the broad beans any
day.”
Pete took hold of Sir
Henry’s collar while Jan went for some bread. This persuaded Sir Henry to follow Pete, while Jan and Mike
returned to the kitchen.
“Ah, yes, Pete’s written the
history up. This whole region was
slowly dying. People tried
the usual things the conventional economists recommend, exporting more,
producing more efficiently, looking for new crops, competing for tourists,
writing grant applications and trying to tempt some corporation to set up a
branch plant here. Meanwhile the
government dedicated itself to globalization so went about removing all
assistance and protection for rural areas and just told us to work harder and
smarter and beat everyone else in the world to win the scarce markets. Strange to say we didn’t manage to do
that and things spiralled down.
Businesses closed. Farms went broke. Unemployment rose.
More people left.”
“Typical story,” Mike
said. “It’s happening all around
the world. In fact its
accelerating. More than half the
world’s people now live in cities. Unfortunately we just don’t need many people
in the countryside any more.”
“You mean your economy
doesn’t need them. But the planet
needs them there. Your best chance
of achieving sustainability is to have many people in country towns, villages
and small cities.”
”So what turned it around?”
“I think the final trigger
was a particularly bad drought.
That pushed a small group, I think it was only five families, to get
together in desperation to see if there was any possible unorthodox strategy
that might enable them to hang on.
These were all people who were strongly bonded to the land here,
families that had farmed from way back and were determined never to leave. They
came to see that their chances of hanging on no matter what would be best if
they cooperated to provide what they could for themselves. Now the breakthrough
was that although they were an impoverished local aristocracy, asset rich but
with little income, it occurred to them that the town had the paradox of much productive
capacity lying idle, especially all the unemployed poor people with their
skills and brains and brawn, and the unused paddocks and dams, and on the other
hand all the unmet needs for production, which the idle productive capacity
could in principle meet. Why
couldn’t they somehow put the two together, that is, organize for the
unemployed people to grow and make things for themselves, things they
previously got only by buying imports from shops, using money earned from
exporting their produce or labour.
So they started a cooperative garden and workshop, and then someone
thought of buying a sack of flour each week and having a bread baking day, then
a fish tank was set up. They
started working for each other, repairing cars and houses. They started bottling surplus fruit,
and they set up a nursery and began a community orchard.”
Pete had returned. “Mind you,” he said, “At first the core
group acted like the executives of a firm, hiring people to produce and
arranging for them to receive output in proportion to their inputs of time and
energy. But there was no notion of
profit. It was all about a
cooperative attempt to harness available resources for mutual benefit. In time they got into many other
things, like providing entertainment, setting up a market day, planting
commons, and they built cheaply using mud and saplings.”
“OK so they more or less
created their own independent sub-economy, based on subsistence principles.”
“Yes, exactly. They kept struggling on in the normal
market economy, but they just got together to create another economy that was
like a family putting its own resources into providing for itself as best it
could.”
Pete had taken a small
sewing basked from the sideboard.
He unrolled and examined a pair of trousers which had several holes and
torn seams. He got one positioned
and began sewing. On the
other side of the fireplace was Gran, predictably knitting away.
“Did it splutter or thrive?”
“Look they were stunned at
what they quickly achieved. They
shouldn’t have been because we can now see that they were harnessing up huge
unused productive potential that had been sitting idle. I think a really important factor was
that the area had been so depressed.
This meant that much land and water was not being used and could be
hired cheaply or used for nothing.”
“What about those people in
the town that were OK within the normal economy.”
“Well no one was OK really,
and even the few who were surviving best could see how they’d benefit if others
were in better shape and were less inclined to leave town. It was in their interests to connect
with the new economy, so they started buying things from it. Later they separated out some activities
that were viable as little firms, like the bakery. But the most valuable
developments were cooperative, for example the planting of community commons to
provide herbs, bamboo, and the clay pits.
Later came the mini-bank and business incubators. These evolved from arrangements a few
were making to cooperate on finance and advice.”
“Yes, as you said, the town
had no where else to go. That
explains a lot doesn’t it. I’m
thinking why would people in affluent suburbs in cities today ever do it. Wouldn’t they need to be down and out
before they’d consider it?”
“Unfortunately you might be
right.”
“Well again, what’s the use
of The Glen, if people aren’t in the situation where they will take any
notice?”
“But we think they soon will
be.”
“Why? Rich countries are getting richer every
day.”
“But their quality of life
is deteriorating, so in time that’ll prompt them to ask whether there is a
better way. And there is coming up
a nice little event that will give them one hell of a jolt..”
“What’s that?”
“Many geologists think
petroleum supply is close to peaking, maybe within ten years.”
“Yes, I’ve heard about
that. Yes that would make a
difference.”
“You couldn’t exaggerate the
trouble that could cause, given how dependent all aspects of consumer society
are on liquid fuels.
Some people believe lit will actually cause the die-off of billions of
people, partly because of conflicts and wars that’ll be triggered, and partly
because of the disruption of agriculture.
Did you know that pumped ground water feeds almost 500 million people. Diesel pumps provide the irrigation
water. And without liquid fuels you can’t keep the supermarket shelves stacked
can you?”
“Even more people are alive
because fossil fuels go into nitrogen fertilizer production.”
“But petroleum supply
wouldn’t end suddenly.”
“No, and that’s in our
favour. If supply tapers and it
takes say ten years for the effects to start being felt severely, that could
provide the gradual pressure to get people to see the need for cutting
consumption and building local economies.
By then we have to have built enough impressive examples of The Simpler
Way.”
“So you don’t think much can
be done for a long time?”
“I don’t think mainstream
will even begin thinking about any of this for a long time yet, but there’s
lots we should be doing here and
now. All over the place in cities
and towns there are unemployed and poor people and bored retired people who
could be coming together to put their vast productive power into producing
cooperatively to meet many of their needs. And that’s happening, but on nothing like a big enough scale.”
-------------------------
When they arrived at the
workshop the open central space had been mostly filled with chairs and
tables. Some people were coming in
from Mario’s carrying their meals to eat at the tables. Some flopped into bean bags and easy
chairs. There was much chatting
going on, with kids playing here and there. More people came in and by the 7 p.m. starting time there
would have been little space left in the big hall of the workshop and its wings
out under the balconies.
“OK everyone can we
start?” Mike was surprised to see
that the speaker was a teenage girl.
He wondered how she could handle the meeting if it became difficult. He
leaned to Jan and said “Who gets to be chairperson?”
“Anyone,” said Jan. “Someone will volunteer. We usually have someone different each
time, to share the practice. I
think Melissa does a good job but she can be a bit slow. She likes to give people a lot of time
to speak up if they’re thinking about it, but I wouldn’t be so concerned about
that. We could get through a bit
quicker but that doesn’t matter much.”
“But why not have the best
people do the job?’
“No, it’s important to
rotate things like this, firstly because it means no one becomes the powerful
wizard guru who controls a situation.
Secondly best if we all take a turn to do the job even though some of us
are a bit rougher at it than others.
This develops the important skills in us all, and that makes the village
stronger Much better to have a lot
of people who can chair a meeting or organise a working bee or plan the work
roster or mediate, than to have only one or two experts, just its better if we
have lots of people who know how to grow good strawberries.”
“First, I’ll just draw your
attention to some reports that have just become available from committees. First there’s the fish review, at last,
there’s the survey on the views of oldies, and there’s the one on the options
for renovating the pump house.
They’re all a bit bulky so we didn’t print many copies, so you can look
at these in the library or online if you want to. Do we want any of these on the agenda for the next meeting?”
There were a few comments
either way. Someone said “How
about giving people more time to digest the other two but the fish one needs to
be acted on pretty soon because we have to restock ponds
within a month. We need to
be sure whether to try the new varieties.”
Mike whispered to Jan,
“What’s the oldies one about?”
“It’s to do with a survey
and interview study with older people, to get clearer about their situation and
what problems they are experiencing lately.”
“Any additions to the
agenda?”
“Yes, the blue gums,” a
voice said.
“Thanks Mal,” Melissa said,
and wrote on her papers.
“Oh dear,” Jan said to
herself.
Melissa said, “ Do you mind
if I change the order a little and we can deal with the bamboo issue
first. Shouldn’t take long to get
it out of the way. The study
groups report has been in the library since the last meeting. Just to refresh your minds they are
saying its all pretty straight forward and they have listed the best new
varieties in order of preference…in view of the needs and uses criteria we
worked out some time back. The
question is how far down the list do you want the Commons Committee to go. Do we lash out and get the lot as they
suggest, or only the first five, or the seven?”
There was some muttering, and after a few seconds of almost silence two or there said quietly “yes” or “OK”.