“Why not come over to Ireland to participate in our ‘Changing Landscapes’ conference and summer school”. And so I headed west – while diverting on the way to garner some relevant field intel.
Rocky terrain
I probably overinvest in ‘field intel’; visiting people on their own turf* to glean information as to what they really think, gain some historical context as to ‘backstories’ pertinent to forthcoming discussions or an event. It’s exhausting, adds huge mileage, involves biscuit gifts, can be socially risky but overall is worth it. In spades. A tool to help frame better conversations between interested parties, often with different values but common interests, against a backdrop of shifting contested narratives all within the same space.
Fresh space
You could tell that the organisers** had spent time with contributors at the event beforehand. Just by the hubbub, the way people greeted each other. Trust had been earned, freedom provided to voice views (however tricky) with inclusive drink and food laid on. In a rapid ‘call to action’ world, the time to do this is so important. This enabled both the conference and summer school to coalesce a diversity of views across a wide range of topics within a range of ‘neutral spaces’
The ‘Changing Landscapes’ one day conference was born out of a pub session and brought together farmers, foresters, social scientists, architects, environmental activists, academics, natural capitalists (private money into rural sectors), rangers, hunters, land managers and more. It was a positive endorsement that the government had provided funds through Creative Ireland to help support the space and format for the event in its first year. What a start – what momentum to build on!
School of thought
The summer school is an annual event spread over a weekend where short work shops and ‘walk’n’talks’ are hosted in the field (or woodland) and in rooms with audio support. Mics matter: the relaxed layout of sessions enables and encourages interactive exchanges without judgement – a rare commodity in a polarised world. Other sessions are in the pub with food, a glass or two, accompanied by music and songs from locals close to the land. All helps build trust and authenticate context to the transition of change being embarked on.
Historical context
Farming and forestry are primary industries which ‘compete’ with nature to win resources of fuel, timber and food. Sugar-coating it doesn’t really help. Even organic farming knocks back nature and see this walk across Transylvania in Romania to see a snapshot of subsidence farming. This evolving ‘battle over the countryside‘ (itself a hackneyed problem-focussed phrase), consists of interested parties seeking to solely ‘own’ and dominate the narrative (and thus implicitly the solutions) which in turn has created division within both rural and wider communities.
Exacerbated by the ‘natural flow’ of populations to urbanise (arguably a more environmental and economically sustainable model), we lose connection with the land, food and by default, nature. After years of CAP subsidy policies, even those working closer to the land have lost connection with nature.
Power balance
Without context and connection, we can too easily lose traction.
Various ‘state of nature’ reports across Europe are compiled from a baseline baked into the effects of historical rural industrialisation. This was driven by past government sponsored policies driving land use efficiencies – often related to post-war fears of self-sufficiency of food and timber. As a result reports make for dire reading which rightly highlight the seriousness of nature’s decline. But when the contents are released early as context-free media briefings, to the chagrin of generations of land managers sitting at remote kitchen tables, bridges (trust) are unknowingly and unintentionally burnt.
Outtake
The big take-home for me is about building trust. This stuff doesn’t come in a book, on training courses, or by moral obligation, or online seminars, or reaching out on LinkedIn – but with social legwork and intuitive face-to-face networking. Where Ireland, in my view, is uniquely fresh, is the opportunity to frame some of these tough, gritty environment and land use issues in more inclusive ways. Leaving it to the usual ‘stakeholders’ (that term itself is under scrutiny) or government text-book designed consultations, may not always cut it.
I may have invested too much emotion in this trip – I’ve not seen the final video edit of the ‘Conservation Alliances’ workshop and perhaps already have a propensity to ‘west-coast-thinking’. The pictures on the blog provide a flavour of stuff not found in self-help books or social science research papers – and yes, we still require that research but let’s the locate the flexibility to let other ways in alongside it.
The Burren project gave a sniff of what can be done with farmers; gun clubs work with conservationists; environmental activists provide space for land managers to adapt; and commercial timber interests co-exist with Wild Atlantic woodlands.
Learning from this, I see an opportunity for Ireland to build bridges, bravely undertake a ‘truth and reconciliation’ journey, to seek to work closer together, with the ‘right people’ for the job, in compiling environmental data to bolster evidence for optimising land use by adopting pragmatic management practices on the ground.
And some of those quiet, or loud, conversations in the pub might just be one way to build that trust.
“A fo ben, bid bont” (if you want to be a leader, be a bridge)
welsh proverb
addendum: this is an adaptive blog and may be updated at any time. Do leave a comment, thanks.
Thanks Rob. This process of trust building, so central to human endeavours, is really an elusive thing, with little in the way of a prescription. Anyway, we shall fumble along….