Falafels in Regent's Park

The green movement is defined by the people who are most convinced by it.

A month or so ago there was a green festival in Regent’s Park. It was a classic green event: organic bean burgers, veggie fajitas and falafels, flanked by homeopathy and acupuncture stalls. There were some displaying the gleaming marvel of the hybrid car. There was a bandstand with live music, which was going down well.

It was a good laugh – we went down as a family, met some friends and had some lunch, before having a wander and buying the odd hand-made wooden item from one of the many craft stalls. There was a good turn out and a reasonably diverse range of people – though the majority, of course, wore canvass shoes and hemp shirts. No harm in that.

Except.

Of course I have no problem at all with people having different tastes and lifestyles. I don’t even consider myself really different from them, except for our taste in clothes. In terms of outlook on the world I imagine we are closer than we are to many other people you would walk past on a busy street.

But that is the point. There are a lot of people out there who have very different outlooks and lifestyles. And a lot of these people regard global warming as just another way of fleecing people out of more money, via slightly-more-expensive energy-saving bulbs or organic food.

These are the people this event did not speak to. In fact, some people who happened to be walking in Regent’s Park that day might have come to the conclusion that organic veggie sausages and global warming are one and the same thing. Which they are not.

Of course they are linked. There are all sorts of problems associated with meat consumption and the farming required to cater to our gargantuan meat eating world population. I am an enthusiastic meat eater but this is something I am aware of. I would be prepared to pay more for meat for something that was, shall we say, environmentally kosher, though I acknowledge I am in the privileged position of being able to afford to do so. In my heart I think probably people should probably eat less meat in their diets but this is a bridge I am not prepared to walk over yet. I seem to be making fine progress on this side of the bank.

But I digress. The real point is that the whole environmentalist cause is closely associated with a kind of Glastonbury / Woodstock crowd that scares off a lot of other people. Worse still, to some it makes the issue look like a trend – like flares – rather than something of substance. In a way it is funny: one group see it as the young finding their cause – their Woodstock – while others see it as a great political con imposed from the top. (Despite the fact George Bush – who you would imagine would be in on any global conspiracy – was one of the last people to be persuaded by it.)

Lumping them all together (as they invariably are) means many see global warming as synonymous with joss sticks, spiritual healing and herbal ecstasy. It makes it seem a joke to people who are generally cynical and don’t believe in spiritual healing – and therefore, by extension, global warming.

(Again, if spiritual healing could take on the pharmaceutical companies I would be all for it, but sadly I am pretty sure it can’t. As a substitute, spiritual healing is no match for the veggie sausage – which has come on a long way in recent years.)

Perhaps more important though was the huge consumer element to the event. (And for more on why that is bad see the post I wrote a couple of days ago.) It seems it is impossible to have a gathering of people without people wanting to sell you something you don’t need. Or others – myself included – wanting to buy it.

It goes to show what a formidable force consumerism is. Changing that seems impossible – and is probably not desirable if it can instead be conducted in a more sustainable way. Consumerism is freedom, and freedom is consumerism. It needn’t have been, but it is now and it is hard to see how it can go back.

One final thought about that day in Regent’s Park: there was a Tory stall. They were handing balloons out to children. I know one father who was secretly delighted when his son’s balloon burst. I found the site of that stall astonishing (I don’t know why, in retrospect) and revolting in equal measure. You could take the view that it shows the breadth of appeal this issue now enjoys. I think there is a great deal of truth in that, but in this particular instance I think a wolf in sheep’s clothing is more what springs to mind.