Climate Thoughts with Brian

‘Dark Laboratory’ charts and chronicles the embedded and systemic colonial racism primarily from Western Europeans to those in the Caribbean, and argues that this ‘history’ should not have ‘a veil of ignorance’ pulled in front of it, but should be exposed, acknowledged, and a new narrative told. Goffe questions, ‘Yet, as a global community, we continuously fail to address the origin of the problem. Without economic and historical analyses of the origins of the climate crisis, how can we expect to understand its sedimented layers?’

She urges a new narrative that empowers communities long oppressed and which can be used as a powerful guide to help adapt to and mitigate the climate and ecological crisis. ‘We need new stories, new technologies, and new forms of nature writing.’ 

This book is a comprehensive, evidence-led study of the impact of colonialism and for Goffe this begins in the 1492 ‘discovery’ of the Americas and leads in an unbroken line to the 21st century. The players have changed, but the exploitative and extractive game is the same. ‘We are experiencing the consequences of a centuries-long cycle of exploitation of people of color, whom European colonial powers have forced to extract resources from the earth.’

Although this is a text which consciously looks towards the past, it also aims to break the cycle of the future- that future suffering need not be an inevitable future for millions. She states that not to break this cycle, could make us just as complicit as the arrogant and ignorant users of the past. ‘We must refuse to betray future generations, especially because we have been forsaken by so many before us.’

What’s past is prologue

Goffe calls on past strong, powerful leaders, to support us in our struggle and to have as examples. She reminds her readers of Queen Nanny of the Maroons and her refusal to betray those who would come after her. ‘Queen Nanny’s name echoes across the mountain ranges of the archipelago because she refused to sign the eighteenth-century British Treaty. She refused to betray the future.’ Interestingly, in the UK, Queen Nanny’s name should be well known to a generation of school students, who meet her in national exams, where the question of who gets to write history and who has the power to write history, and who gets to whitewash history, becomes the focus.

It is no accident also that Goffe uses arguably the most colonial Shakespeare play- ‘The Tempest’- to exemplify the historic struggles and conflicts between ‘native’ and ‘invader’. She continues to evaluate the colonial experimentation that played out in the Caribbean and asks, ‘What has the cost of imperialism been for the natural environment?’ She answers her own question by arguing that this European ideology led to the destruction of ‘Eden.’ ‘The mandate for discovery was a justification for ecological degradation.’ And continues that, ‘When Europeans arrived with the cross in the Caribbean, they could not help but see Eden.’

Goffe powerfully argues that racism lies at the foundation of the climate crisis and that the Caribbean has systematically been asset stripped for Western ‘trophy hunters’. ‘Racism structures the climate crisis because it was a part of its origins.’ She challenges modern day readers to accept this argument and to no longer be complicit in continued acts of racism- whether this be in the guise of modern day confrontations in Central Park (Cooper v Cooper), or in the mindset of policing and the justice system to black people, Rastafarians and Indigenous peoples around the globe. ‘To remain willfully blind to race is to enforce racist modes that lead to the premature death of racialized people.’

‘Too much evidence’

‘Dark Laboratory’ calls for a new kind of climate storytelling- one that no longer puts colonial and capitalist expansion as the priority and ‘norm’ of economic models. ‘Ultimately, hope rests on the caesura of capitalist expansion.’ With the book’s comprehensive and forensic analysis of the guano trade, coral coloniality, slavery, plant theft- which led to the rise of Big Pharma, animal theft and land theft, Goffe argues that there is simply too much evidence of the endemic racial ideology for it to be ignored, whitewashed or greenwashed.

She closes the text by imagining the next ‘New World’- ‘Time traveling from 1492 to the far future has been necessary for the scale of imagination of this book and will be necessary to face the climate crisis. Poets and policymakers will be critical to the scale of empathy we need.’

New stories will not however, be enough, by themselves, to stem the tide of rising sea levels, which pose a ‘death sentence’ for the Caribbean and other island states. If we cannot break the modern chains of never-ending capitalist growth, then climate disaster awaits, and the deaths of millions of Caribbean and Polynesian people will once again bloody our hands.

This is an engaging, detailed exposé by Guy Shrubsole of the narrative of who owns the land in England, how this ‘myth’ has become enshrined, and how we can create a new framing to appoint new stewards to change this ‘lie of the land’.

Shrubsole makes the repeated point in this book that ‘Stewardship, though a noble ideal, is too often greenwash.’ He convincingly argues that accountability and responsibility lie at the heart of ownership. ‘We have to make the self-appointed custodians of the countryside answerable to the rest of us.’ This is a repeated mantra throughout, that for too long, estate managers and landowners have escaped scrutiny for actions on their land, which has negative impacts ‘downstream’- sadly, and all too often, this can be a literal downstream, where river pollution and land degradation can be found.

Shrubsole opens his text by framing his extended argument, ‘Owning land, particularly large swathes of it, ought to come with serious responsibilities to society and to the rest of the natural world.’ He argues that, on one hand, it is patronising to assume that the public are not capable of performing such a protective role. He continues that additionally, this ideology perpetuates and reinforces the protective interests of the landed elite- and their political interests. Why are the public at large not regarded as being capable stewards of the land?

On a minor level, homeowners, especially those with gardens, are viewed as being more than capable to be stewards of their gardens- but how and why this cannot be upscaled is puzzling. ‘We ignore the fact that private homes and gardens take up just 5 per cent of the country. The reality is that we all have a legitimate interest in how the other 95% of our land is used because we all depend upon it.’

Shrubsole identifies that the framing of ‘stewardship’ is a new concept, designed to exclude and designed to defend against accusations of land harm. ‘The language of stewardship was deliberately revived in the late twentieth century by landowners and farming unions to defend themselves against accusations of environmental destruction.’ This concept that only the rich can be effective stewards of the land is revealed to a perniciously invented narrative that has become entrenched in a class struggle.

The central argument of the book is introduced early on- ‘But the greatest lie of the land is the idea that you have to own land to care for it.’ Shrubsole identifies many action groups and individuals who push for protection of the land, through campaigning, to expose the truth behind the greenwashing promises and pledges and who build legal arguments to grant nature legal personhood.

It is the ego-centric argument that land is property to be used, but that it has legal rights itself- a legal movement that, thankfully, is beginning to spread.

A clear example of this is the current formation of the criteria to apply to designate an area of land as an ‘Asset of Community Value’. ‘The official criteria under which land can be listed as an Asset of Community Value must be broadened to include environmental and economic benefits alongside social ones.’ In an application, it is advised to show that the land is ‘used’ by members of the community in a quantifiable manner- that physical actions are conducted there. Simply enjoying the land as existing in its own right and for its own sake is far too abstract an idea at present for councils. ‘Community ownership offers a strikingly different way to own and manage land more democratically than merely trusting in the benevolence of the larger private landowners.’

Land as a trophy

Shrubsole then turns his attention onto those who regard land as an indication of wealth and status, who are more interested in this element than effective land management. From grouse moors to peat bogs, he outlines actions and examples where legal loopholes have allowed destructive actions to take place in these areas and suggests that perhaps this is not accidental. ‘The extremely cosy relationship between wealthy grouse moor owners and our political class has meant the industry has avoided any serious regulation for decades.’

An idea whose time has come

Shrubsole emphasises that proactive protection for nature isn’t just desirable,but essential. ‘Today we face an even more existential threat than invasion: the climate crisis and the unravelling of the very web of life that we all depend upon.’ A declaration of a ‘Nature Emergency’ to begin to halt the horrific decline of nature in the UK needs to be a priority for this new government. Government intervention is key argues Shrubsole, and he makes the valid point that land is not bought compulsorily for nature, but is regularly done for large infrastructure projects which often harm nature. ‘But we accept the principle of the public sector being able to buy land compulsorily when it builds infrastructure; why not for nature? If the government can buy land for roads, railways and energy, why not for vital carbon sinks and the ecosystems we all depend on?’

Replacing the ‘lie of the land’

Shrubsole argues powerfully that land should be a ‘common treasury for all’ and not just the purview of and for the powerful elite. He identifies that some landowners have failed to be good stewards of the land, but have escaped accountability and censure for this. Not all have a love for the land. ‘The reality is that private property ownership doesn’t inevitably breed respect for nature.’ He states that it is past time to ‘democratise the governance of land’ in order to save nature in Britain and that this could be done through new Government policies. From the evidence gathered so far and with the rising climate and nature crises, Shrubsole insists that, ‘The fate of our land is too important to be left only to those who own it.’ 

He finally urges that we need to take back the narrative that has served the interests of landowners and not the interests of the land.

‘Let’s replace the lie of the land with a profound truth that anyone can develop a deep love of nature, place, and land, regardless of whether you own it.’

How would you describe a tree? Would you talk about its trunk, its branches, its leaves, its roots, its abundant life? Would you describe it as an object or a subject?

 How many species of tree can you name in 30 seconds? 

Our knowledge, relationship and connection with trees, forests and woodlands, may be under threat, in a world which demands speed and consumption. And yet, to trees, our life spans of around 80 years, can be the blink of an eye to a tree which has stood proudly for centuries. 

In ‘Treewilding- Our Past, Present and Future Relationship with Forests’, Jake M Robinson takes us on a journey- not of discovery, but of memory. A journey designed to rebuild and regrow this truly ancient relationship between two organic beings- humans and trees.

A nature-depleted world

Robinson begins by highlighting the extent of the problem, by emphasising that, ‘‘At a global scale, we teeter on the precipice of unrivalled biodiversity loss and climate chaos, so restoring forests (and other) ecosystems is vital.’ He points to the example of the UK as a place where the connection between nature and urban spaces has been broken- where a cultural understanding has been lost. ‘The UK was recently named one of the most nature-depleted countries in the world.’

A re-shaping and a re-framing of our positioning with the natural world is essential- Robinson argues to reform our attitude to the natural world and to shift the ideology that nature is there simply to be used by humans as a resource. Or to quote the 1986 Star Trek 4 positioning of humanity’s positioning of itself as superior to all other life forms- ‘If we were to assume that these whales are ours to do with as we please, we would be as guilty as those who caused their extinction.’

Robinson continues this argument almost 40 years later when he says, ‘It’s vital that we brush away the egocentrism that positions humans at the top of a hierarchy of life and cultivate a deeper connection with, and truly respect the complexity of, other life forms.’

In small ways, in small places, there are shoots of this shift from ego-centrism to ecocentrism. In August, 2024, Paul Powlesland became the first person in the UK to swear a legal oath on a natural entity- this time, of the River Roding. He commented, It’s another way of reintroducing the idea of nature as sacred back into our legal system, finding playful ways to demonstrate to the world that nature is alive, that nature is sacred and we have duties towards it.’

Survivors of lost worlds

Robinson charts the history of trees and praises their ability of surviving-so far- despite all odds in the historic and geological records. They emerged approximately 400 million years ago- before the Triassic and Jurassic periods- and survived the mass extinction events in Earth’s history, including the famous dinosaur-killing event around 66 million years ago.

Around the world today, there are several claims of trees which have also survived the modern world- from the Methuselah tree of almost 5,000 years old, to giant sequoias dating back 3,000 years.

Robinson outlines the significant levels of deforestation that have taken place during the agricultural period. ‘50% of global deforestation occurred between 10,000 years ago and 1900, and the other 50% occurred in the last century.’ Additionally, this rate has sadly been matched over the last century itself- ‘Yet, in the last 100 years, the world has lost as much forest as it had in the previous 9,000 years.’ Whether this has been the end result of empire building, colonialism and the resource depletion which comes with this, or an attitudinal ideology which only sees nature as a resource to be exploited, remains debatable.

As Robinson summarises, ‘Our thirst for convenience at all costs means we often fail to see the woods (the ecological and social systems) for the wood (the timber).’

Our present relationship with trees

Robinson then highlights the social and economical importance of trees and nature- describing their sacred, ceremonial, and community roles that they have played to different cultures. However, he also cleverly positions these issues of the benefits to humans with developer tree- felling plans, to emphasise what is currently being lost. Forest bathing as a medicinal prescription is booming as a practice- with the mantra of ‘Let forests be thy medicine’, but here again, lies the issue that we are potentially exploiting nature simply for the benefit which it brings humans. For the moment though, if this is an avenue which preserves and maintains forests and trees, perhaps it should be celebrated.

Forest restoration and regeneration

Robinson then outlines successful restoration practices and methods around the world, arguing that, ‘We need to take an ecological approach to tree planting.’ He praises projects in Costa Rica and at the Knepp Rewilding Project in the UK. Robinson suggests that modern technology can help hugely with restoration ecology and that the use of ecoacoustics and drone mapping and monitoring can help humans learn more about the dynamic relationships within tree communities. 

The right tree, in the right place, at the right time, is a far more effective approach than huge monoculture plantations that run the risk of not achieving very much at all. He argues that we have a lot to learn from syntropic farming methods to see if they can be scaled up- these can require long term vision and management, which humans are notoriously bad at. Natural forest regeneration, such as the Miyawaki method from Japan could be transferred to other areas such as India and Europe, in order to complement and aid the regeneration that is necessary. 

There are dangers to be on the lookout for though- threats to local biodiversity, finance and the skills required to help maintain the restoration methods. Planting is not the ‘golden bullet’ so sought after, but growth and management are key. Stewardship is perhaps another way of phrasing this narrative. We are simply stewards for future generations. Will they thank us when forests regrow and are restored- or will they curse us when the last tree is cut down simply to satisfy our material wants?

Greenwashing alerts

Robinson warns that we should be on the alert from political greenwashing promises- in particular promises by organisations and individuals to plant thousands, or even millions of trees. He lists 10 key pitfalls of these greenwashing promises: from failure rates, the potential reduction of water availability, and the continued colonial concern that the Global South becomes responsible for capturing emissions from the Global North.

What we can learn from trees

Above and beyond what we can learn from trees about our past, in terms of information about fires and droughts, owing to tree rings- there is a lot to be learned about how we can recreate a more symbiotic relationship with nature. Turning urban areas into urban forests, exploring ‘living architecture’ and exploring how nature can help us turn the tide on catastrophic climate change. Robinson explains that, ‘A tree is a teacher’ and so, like any good student, we need to be open and receptive to the lessons that we can learn. 

We need to listen to the trees. We need to be reminded that they were here before us and will be here after us. 

Whether humans like it or not, we are a part of this world- not apart from this world. There are organic bonds linking all living things- both visible and invisible.

Our ideology and narratives towards trees and nature needs to shift from seeing them as objects, to understanding their complex systems and internal communities. 

We need more nature champions, unafraid to speak out that our current view of nature being a disposable and expendable resource, could see so much more being lost than we can currently imagine.