Category Archives: ramblings

ramblings, science, thoughts

On Atheism and Science

Yesterday I came across two blog posts about atheism, both of which deal with science in different ways. And they got me thinking — or at least starting to think — about the relationship between religion (or lack of it) and science.

Before I go into my thoughts let’s have a look at what, for me, were some of the salient points from the two articles, both of which are worth reading in their entirety.

The first is a post is Atheism Evolves by Maggie Mayhem (yes, the sex positive activist and sex educator):

[I]t’s ridiculous to believe that all life on earth exists to serve humans. I am appalled when I hear this by both the religious and the irreligious.
[…]
The bible does not teach me how my hand works. It doesn’t teach me about how the human hand came to be. It doesn’t teach me why a human hand is physically advantageous for certain tasks nor does it tell me anything about how a human hand was selected for over time.
[…]
Many preachers have been great philosophers, social revolutionaries, and leaders. However … activism and education does not have to include a literal belief in the supernatural to be effective and empowering.
[…]
There is no one to save us from ourselves but ourselves … No one has the divine right to exploit their fellow humans.
[…]
However, atheism and skepticism are movements that have been primarily driven by people with immense privilege because it has taken that much privilege not to be destroyed by others for saying something so counter to what we’ve been taught for as long as we’ve been humans.
[…]
A silly belief does not displace my own. Laws, exclusionary practices, and violent retaliation does displace people.
[…]
Tokenism only serves the privileged, it does not broaden the viewpoints and perspectives. It does not help us better understand ourselves and our world when white men get to decide which marginalized people get to speak. Nothing is accomplished with tokenism.
[…]
Ideas are not physical spaces: you cannot run out of room. One of the greatest things about them is the way they intermingle and breed and create unimaginable combinations.

(Emphasis in the original)

Before we go on, just think for a moment about those comments on privilege and on ideas.

… … …

Powerful aren’t they?!

OK, so now for the second article, Why Science Can’t Replace Religion by Keith Kloor on the scientific Discover Blogs.

[O]ur brains and bodies contain an awful lot of spiritual wiring … you can’t simply dismiss the psychological and cultural importance of religion. For much of our history, religion has deeply influenced all aspects of life, from how we cope with death and random disaster to what moral codes we abide by. That science should (or could) eliminate all this with a rationalist cleansing of civilization, as a vocal group of orthodox atheists have suggested, is highly improbable.
[…]
[S]ome people, no matter their background, are prone to experience a more spiritual, as opposed to rational, connection to the universe … certain needs unique to the human condition cannot be satisfied by science alone. Scientists who prefer a strictly rationalist lens have a hard time accepting this.
[…]
Absolutism is one of the uglier traits of religion that still pervades too many corners of the Earth today, breeding intolerance and normalizing abhorrent actions. But a response that indicts all religion as a stain on humanity is equally absolutist.

More rather powerful arguments, which strident atheists like Richard Dawkins and PZ Myers would do well to heed.

And it was reading this second article hot on the heels of the first which got me thinking. Actually thinking about this muddled interface between science and religion and the way the two so often seem to be unable to coexist.

What I realised was that there seem to be two strands to all religious belief, and these do seem to be to encompass all religions, not just Christianity. The two strands of belief are:
(a) how and why the world (universe) came into being, and
(b) the importance and imposition of a moral code.
Some believers seem to me to need to embrace one or other strand; some, although I surmise down at the deepest level a minority, clearly need both.

And it is in these two strands that the conflict with science arises because in fact these two strands have different roots, viz.
(a) has a root in science (of some form), whereas
(b) has its root in thought and intellect (philosophy, if you prefer).

Now I need religion for neither strand: science does indeed satisfy (to the extent satisfaction is possible by any means) the first and I have the intellect to be able to handle the latter myself.

The problem is that many people conflate and muddle the two strands and hence become completely, though unknowingly, confused. For science — whatever it’s underlying belief: creationist or evolutionist — cannot ipso facto produce morals; it is merely explanatory. And equally philosophy alone cannot produce technical explanations; observation and experiment (ie. science) are also required.

Consequently it is not unreasonable that some scientists need a spiritual dimension/belief to give them a moral/cultural grounding. Equally it is reasonable that (some) theologians and philosophers need science to help them make sense of the universe.

Lucky is the man who can derive both strands from a single belief system, whether that is a religion or science. OK, I happen to believe that the religious viewpoint is erroneous, but then I am lucky enough to be able to derive both strands without religion. Not everyone is so lucky, and perhaps we should be more sympathetic to that. Is it moral of us to deny a “crippled man” a crutch, whether physical or mental?

Now I’m conscious that this is likely not a fully enough developed train of thought, being as it was scribbled down in five minutes at 11pm last night. But the fact that there are these two, seemingly unrecognised, strands does (at least for me) explain some of the confusion about how some scientists can need religion (spirituality if you prefer) and how the religious/spiritual may need science.

Anyone want to expand on this?

personal, ramblings

Five Questions #5

OK, so here is my answer to the last of the five questions I posed some weeks back.

For me there is nothing difficult about this one.

Question 5. Do you ask enough questions? Or do you settle for what you know?

No, I don’t ask enough questions. In my view you can never ask enough questions and anyone who genuinely seeks after knowledge of any form will always have another question to ask. But there are times when you have to settle for what you already know.

It is only by asking questions, looking for something new and pushing the boundaries that we ever make progress. That was as true for stone age man banging his rocks together to make fire as it is now. It is the fundamental of the scientific method: ask questions and don’t believe anything until you can reliably demonstrate it; be forever skeptical.

We learn and generate our views by asking the age-old question: Why? Yes children keep asking “Why?” for a reason — to gain more knowledge of how the world works. (So maybe “Because” isn’t actually a good answer, however tempting it is!)

Society’s morals, ethics and beliefs are essentially the consensus view of the majority (or at least of those in whom we invest the power to decide, eg. politicians, clergy, etc.). Progress is made by philosophers and people like me questioning this consensus view; asking why we have these beliefs; suggesting that there are other, better, ways. Sometimes our views prevail. Most times we are ridiculed. In neither case is it certain if we are right or wrong — indeed in many instances there are no right or wrong answers, just answers which currently work. When our views prevail the consensus moves, society’s beliefs change and progress is made.

Science works in the same way. There is a sum total of knowledge; think of it as a boundary. Essentially there are two types of researcher who attack this boundary, trying to move it forward, as an army moves it’s battle-front forward foot by foot, mile by mile.

There are the pioneers who forge way ahead with off-the-wall thinking: “Oh look! A happens, and so does B. I wonder if that means X97C also happens?” Sometimes it does and suddenly there is a breakthrough at the battle front.

Then there are the supporters, the completer-finishers (in Belbin terms), who come along saying: “We know A, and B, and X97C, and Z23XM. But is this also true for C, D, E … Z …?” And they fill in the gaps behind the pioneers.

Both are moving the battlefront forward in their own way. But they can do so only by repeatedly asking questions. Questions are how we learn and how we make progress. So unless you want to stagnate you cannot ask enough questions.

But there is a corollary. You can never have all the information you need to make a decision. If you did it would not be a decision but a fait accompli. Indeed you can never have enough (let alone all) information to make a decision.

But decisions have to be made; there often (especially in business) isn’t time to acquire more information, let alone all the information one would like. Management, in fact life in general, is all about making the best decision one can with the information available at the time**. The best managers get these decisions right (or at least not wrong) more often than the less good managers. Those who have successes in life make averagely better decisions for them than those who who are always stumbling from crisis to crisis in life’s basement.

[** This is also why it is pointless, and destructive, to regret something you’ve done. You made the best decision you could at the time; we all do; it would take an alien mind not to. You did your best; you cannot do more. Yes, by all means learn something from the experience, but regret serves no purpose.]

But even then there may be no right and wrong answers, because part of the available information is one’s outlook on life, and who is to say my cautious approach to investments is better or worse for me than your more risky approach is for you?

So to sum up. Keep asking those questions. But in life know when to stop, consolidate and make that decision. In searching for knowledge, just keep right on.

— ooOoo —

So there we are, five answers to five deceptively simple, but actually quite challenging, questions. Questions which have made me ask more questions, and in answering them pose yet further questions. Questions whose answers have turned into little philosophical essays. Hopefully you’ve enjoyed, maybe even been challenged by, this mini-series. I hope to do another sometime soon, when I have more questions, ideas or challenges. Meanwhile suggestions are always welcome!

personal, ramblings

Antidotes to Anti-Fat

Overweight? Under tall? P’ed off with being abused for it? Then read on.

Oh and if you’re someone who abuses the overweight (or indeed any other minority), you’d better read on too!

A few days ago I came across a blog post from last September at Crazy Beautiful by Dianne Sylvan, titled Ten Rules for Fat Girls. In it she admits to being obese, but she is not ashamed of it and is seriously annoyed by all those who give her abuse because of it. And she goes on to give other overweight girls some thoughts and ideas on how to be more comfortable with the way they are. Between these thoughts Dianne Sylvan is typically hard hitting:

I’m fat … There’s no concealing this fact. My fat is out there. It speaks. And it says “I am lovable and worthy just like I am, and fuck you if you disagree.” I’ve … gotten comfortable with the idea that people can look like anything and it’s all good.
…
You have sovereignty over your body and that means it is no one’s responsibility but your own.
…
How is discrimination and making people loathe themselves going to make them healthier? Obviously this doesn’t work or the number of overweight people would be rapidly declining, wouldn’t it … Has hate ever made anyone a better person?
…
That claptrap about obese people being a strain on the economy is nonsense; cancer costs millions of dollars to research and treat but nobody’s suggesting we let cancer patients die to save money. (Well actually in the UK we do — Ed)
…
Statistics show that weight loss fails over the long-term 95% of the time. How many conditions can doctors get away with prescribing something with only a 5% success rate? Yet dieting is considered a panacea. You know what else has a 5% success rate in treating disease? Bleeding someone to let the evil humours out.
…
It’s also assumed … that everyone knows what’s best for you but you.
…
I’ve heard quite a few thin women say things like … “getting fat would be the worst thing.” … Oh? Worse than child abuse, genocide, homophobia, or being allergic to chocolate? Worse than being an asshole? Worse than treating people like crap because of how they look? Is being fat worse than being an ignorant bigot? Worse than being a murderer? Worse than drowning kittens? Amebic dysentery? Losing a loved one? Losing a limb?

Well that’s enough. I’m sure you get the picture.

But do you know what’s interesting about this? It is just as relevant to men as to women. Men get abuse too, although maybe not as much as women. Men get bullied by doctors. I’ve even been bullied by a consultant neurologist FFS, who is an acquaintance — and I’m not even a patient of his! To this day I don’t know how I remained polite to him.

Yes, I’m obese. I know I am obese and I admit it. It doesn’t make me any less me. Or any less intelligent. Or any less able to know what works/is good for me. Or any less able to punch you in the throat.

OK, I don’t like being overweight or as horribly unfit as I am; I’m all too well aware of the consequences of my diabetes to be happy about it. And being “too big” can be horribly inconvenient. But it is also horrendously difficult to do much about it. In my case it is all tied up with my depression. It appears the whole caboodle goes back into my childhood, and despite hypnotherapy I’ve not yet been able to unbundle everything.

Yes, I have lost some weight but very slowly. At my heaviest I was 155kg and, after some ups and downs, I’m now down to about 138Kg. That’s still too much for my liking. But even if I lose a lot more I will never be a small bloke. I’m big boned and well built, naturally. It runs in my father’s family. We aren’t small people. And despite all the sport I played when younger, I’m not naturally athletic. So even if I’m not obese I’ll always be heavy and I’ll never be more than just about averagely fit.

But do you know what? The more people go on about my weight, the more resistant I become to doing anything about it. Having my weight thrust forever into the front of my brain is just so destructive. You end up thinking about nothing else. You cease to be you. It puts you under some huge stresses. If you allow it to, it takes over your life. And that makes the depression worse. And so we start the cycle all over again.

So I try not to dwell on it. I try not to let it take over. I try, in my quiet way (quiet? me?) to be sensible about food. But it seems to me the whole cycle isn’t well enough under control for anything to be quickly and easily alleviated. Which is why I’m trying hypnotherapy. But it is all slow going.

Meanwhile anyone who wants to abuse me about my weight had just better not. They don’t know — they cannot know — what is happening within me (FFS even I don’t know a lot of the time), nor how actually destructive their comments are. Besides it is really none of their business. It’s my concern, and mine alone.

At the end of the day, I’m me. All the way through. For better, for worse; until death do us part. And do you know something else? Nature probably made me that way for a reason. Whether you like it or not, do me the respect of not trying to change me.

personal, ramblings

Five Questions #4

OK, so here is my answer to the fourth of the five questions I promised I would answer.

This one is tricky. Not because I find it hard to answer but because it produces an inner conflict in all of us.

Question 4. When is it time to stop calculating risk and rewards and just do what you know is right?

Answer: Now.

Why?

Well to start with see the answer to question two above.

Secondly because in my view it is more ethical. Risk and reward imply a conscious choice to do something which is not optimal and not what your inner morality says should be. And shouldn’t we all be following our inner ethics?

My belief is that we all have that inner morality, even underlying all our religious, political and sociological superstructure of beliefs; and underlying our selfish desires. It is nothing to do with man-made constructs of belief; it’s to do with an inner respect of life.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy. And it certainly doesn’t mean I always get it right — much as I would like to. We all end up making greater or lesser compromises for a whole variety of reasons. But if we’re true to our underlying ethics we likely shouldn’t except perhaps in the pursuance of purely staying alive (and maybe sometimes not even then).

Do murderers (think, say, the Krays) really deep, deep down not know what they’re doing is wrong? Do bankers who make vast profits on the back of screwing peoples’ mortgage rates and businesses not understand, deep down, the lack of ethics in what they’re doing? I feel sure they do know these things. They may be brainwashed so they can’t allow that knowledge out, but I think it is there somewhere. Had they listened to that inner ethics early on maybe they wouldn’t have ended up where they did. And maybe the world would be a better place. Who knows.

Ultimately I think there is good, ethical, behaviour in all of us if we can but recognise it. But yes, that can be hard because in other ways we are wired to be selfish — because being selfish is a good personal survival strategy and at the first level evolution and “survival of the fittest” mean that we have to strive to survive and produce offspring. And remembering Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs that is deeper rooted than our sense of ethics.

So yes, it’s hard and can be uncomfortable, but in a society where we don’t have to literally fight for food and shelter surely we should strive to rise above our “animal instincts” and listen to our inner morality and ethics.

Perhaps it is best summed up in the words of my late friend Jim Duggan: Let your conscience be your guide. Not your ego or your bank balance.

And I fail just as much as the next person!

personal, ramblings, sexuality

Friends without Benefits

Up-Front Disclaimers:
(1) I am male and 110% heterosexual so this post is written from that standpoint. If your sexuality is other than male and straight hetero adjust what follows to suit your predilections.
(2) No-one will be identified herein. One or two persons may think they can identify themselves, and maybe they can, but they may be mistaken.
(3) I have been happily married for over 30 years and nothing that follows has, as far as I am aware, any disruptive effect on that; if anything, because I think, and am open, about such things the opposite is true. And of course my wife is entirety excluded from what follows.

I’ve been thinking recently about my reactions towards female friends and sex. First of all let me say that I am not talking about “friends with benefits”, because I don’t have any of them.

The first thing I have come to realise is that my female friends (friends, rather than casual acquaintances) past and present, fall rather neatly into two groups according to what are, I hope my underlying, impressions of the sexual content of that relationship. Sex with any of these friends has never been “on the table”.

There is a group of ladies (young and not so young) who I find to a greater or lesser extent sexually attractive — although I would never attempt to “cash in” on this. But however close our friendship, and however attractive I find them, almost to a woman I can look at them and say to myself “I could never live with her; she’d drive me up the wall!” because of whatever foible. I expect the feeling to be mutual. But nevertheless there is always this nagging feeling of “But I’d love to have sex with her, just because I’m curious to know what it’s like”. And I mean that just as written: I have a curiosity as to what sex with the lady is like — no more, no less. But, my friends, you’re safe; I would never insult you by overtly exposing my curiosity, let alone instigating anything sexual.

The other group of friends are almost the opposite. However close I am to them, and however delightful I find them, I have no curiosity at all about having sex with them. The thought just never occurs; it is not part of my (inner) equation of the relationship.

And I emphasise that sex is not on the table in any of these friendships and never has been. All of which I find curious, especially given the overlying sexual nature of the human male. After all it is often said (and I don’t know how much this is borne our by research) that men lose interest in women, even ones they’re friends with, when sex is definitively taken off the table — something I’ve always felt is a very male chauvinist attitude. But then men in western society generally are chauvinists, and I would admit that, much as I try not to be, I’m no exception.

The other thing I’ve come to realise is to do with my former girlfriends; those with whom I’ve had a sexual or proto-sexual relationship. Looking back at those relationships from a distance I realise that however much I still cherish and value them (and I do) they are done and gone. There was great and fun sex in some of them, and in others what sex there was was pretty rubbish. But, in retrospect, I learnt something from them all.

However with one exception none has left what I would term “a hole in my heart”. The one exception was my first real girlfriend; even after almost 40 years there is still a hole in my heart and a special place for that young lady. Whether that is because she did the breaking up, or because I found that break-up so hard (I’m still annoyed with myself for not coping better with it), or because I have never really reached full closure, I don’t know. We never had (penetrative) sex and despite our collective inexperience I still wonder what sex with her would have been like. I would love to know what happened to her; how she got on in life; and whether after all these years there would still be any friendship there. But I am sanguine enough to know that I never will know, and that she probably doesn’t care.

Am I alone in these feelings? Do others find their friendships divide into two groups: those where there is an inner sexual curiosity and those where there isn’t? And do others have long-gone relationships which have left a gaping hole in their heart even after half a lifetime? I’d love to know whether this is a common experience or whether I’m just deranged. (No, maybe don’t’ answer that!)

nudism, personal, ramblings

Five Questions #3

OK, so here, as promised, is my answer to the third of the five questions I promised I would answer.

This one is quite easy for me to answer. But it may be uncomfortable for some to read. So …

Question 3. What would you do differently if you knew nobody would judge you?

Answer: Have the courage to go nude in public much more.

As many out there will know from previous posts I have no problem with nudity and I have never hidden the fact that I spend a lot of time at home unclothed, or barely clothed. I had a somewhat Bohemian upbringing and was introduced to naturism by my parents at the age of about 9 or 10. As a consequence I have never had a problem with nudity — mine or anyone else’s.

However I am acutely aware that many others do find nudity a problem and that the law — often erroneously — acts as if public nudity were illegal, which by default it isn’t in the UK. As I understand the law (and I’m not a lawyer so it likely isn’t this simple) public nudity only may become illegal if there is intent to harm or disturb people, or if there are complaints; essentially the police generally have no powers to intervene unless there are, or they have good reason to believe there will be, complaints.

Given that others are likely to be upset by nudity and that one wishes to be a good neighbour and not to fall foul of the law, this means that I am a little circumspect about where I practice nudity. Indoors or on the patio where there is little chance of being overlooked is fine; walking down the High Street probably isn’t.

So one has to draw the line somewhere. One doesn’t go out unclothed. I mostly don’t stray down the garden or answer the front door without donning a pair of shorts, at least. And one doesn’t entertain visitors without at least a modicum of clothing. But I would like not to have to feel this way.

If I were braver, which is what this question is asking, I would be happier to answer the door, or do things in the garden or with visitors around, without worrying about being clothed. And one would have the courage to demand that the local swimming pool run “clothes optional” session — after all isn’t this part of equality and human rights?

Would I be happy to go shopping in the nude? I don’t know; it may not be a physically comfortable thing to do, and besides one needs somewhere to keep a credit card. But I would like to think that I could, legally and without upsetting people, if I wanted to. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

Sadly too many people still regard any nudity as a sexual act. It isn’t. And here, unfortunately, TV and the other media are very much to blame: if they portray nudity it is almost always in a sexual context so we shouldn’t be surprised that nude = sex in many people’s minds. And as we know there is the misapprehension that sex is dirty, hence nudity is dirty and disgusting … and we have arrived at prudery. But there is not a shred of evidence that nudity causes harm; if anything the opposite is true as this and this briefing documents from British Naturism highlight.

If anything nudity is less sexual (and much healthier) than being clothed. That pretty girl (or guy) you just saw walking down the street probably looks ordinary without clothes. In the nude state little is left to the imagination, so there isn’t the prospect of what’s being hidden to titillate us. Once you’ve seen half a dozen you’ve seen them all: young or old; fat or thin; male or female; black, white or sky-blue-pink. Clothing is much more sexual than nudity, despite that we all know — give or take the odd scar — what is underneath our clothes. (And anyway scars are interesting; they tell stories!) So where is the problem? Why do we have to hide our bodies away?

I actually think this is important for all of us and that prudery is a major public health risk. I have written here, and in other posts, about how a relaxed attitude to nudity is good for us.

I passionately believe that if we were all more relaxed about nudity and more comfortable with our, and everyone else’s, bodies (and sexuality) we would be a lot healthier. Both mentally and physically. If we were we’d find it much easier to discuss our bodies (and bodily functions) with each other and especially with the medical profession — something which doesn’t cause me a problem. As an example I had to visit my (very nice, lady) GP a few days ago because of a problem with my male equipment. I had no problem whatsoever being examined or talking to her about it. Why should I? My GP has seen and heard it all before; probably so often she is bored stupid by it. Isn’t it better I get a possible problem checked out now rather that leave it to become a serious problem later? You still hear so many stories of people who, for whatever imagined reason, “don’t like” to get things checked out and hence end up with major medical problems or worse. It just isn’t worth it.

We need to normalise nudity, and sex, not marginalise and criminalise them.

Really where is the problem?

amusements, ramblings, science

Why I am a Chemist

There was an interesting article by Ashutosh Jogalekar on Scientific American Blogs yesterday called Why I am a chemist.

Ash makes many good points, but especially that chemistry underlies all the biology and physics and engineering that we see about us. Without chemistry (the design, synthesis and understanding of materials) we would have none of that: nothing from the early smelting of iron and bronze, through the Romans’ skills with glass, right through to modern concrete and carbon fibre.

Yes, chemistry encompasses everything from the synthesis of smelly bubbling green liquids, through the power of detergents, to a deep understanding of molecular structure via spectroscopy (which is what I did) and quantum mechanics.

All of this is chemistry. And it all underpins our world, both artificial and natural. Without chemistry we wouldn’t have modern anti-cancer drugs, or modern anaesthetics; we wouldn’t understand the biochemistry underlying photosynthesis; we wouldn’t have air-bags in cars or rockets that can take us to the Moon and beyond.

That is why I trained as a chemist. I wanted to understand how these things worked. (Although I probably couldn’t have put it is so many words at the time.)

And I am still sad that I had to give it all up because the mid-1970s recession meant there were no sensible jobs for chemists. That’s what happens in a recession, we lose the skills we’ve invested in, because no-one can afford to invest for the future. I can understand why, and it is a fine line to walk, but it is short-sighted especially when the education system is so unattractive as a job option that those who are displaced are lost to the discipline and not even attracted to teach and enthuse a future generation.

Would I do things differently if I had my time over again? Probably yes, if I knew then what I know now. I would certainly have worked harder (not difficult) to stay in research. And I might have looked more favourably on teaching. I certainly would have liked to continue as a working scientist rather than “selling out” (as my father saw it) to commerce. Science is much more fun that selling things.

Could I go back to it? No, not now, after nearly 40 years out of the field — much as I might like to. But at least I have retained a broad interest in science, and not just chemistry, so with luck I can still enthuse a few others along their path.

And it is still the simple things in science that enthral me. How metals are smelted. Why snowflakes have six-fold symmetry. How compounds are light sensitive. How detergents work.

personal, ramblings

Five Questions #2

OK, so here’s my answer to the second of the five questions I promised I would answer.

Yet again it isn’t going to be an easy or comfortable answer. Not an easy answer for me to formulate. And as you’ll see it’s not a comfortable answer for any of us; I’m as guilty as anyone. So …

Question 2. If you had the opportunity to get one message across to a large group of people, what would your message be?

Just one message? How big can that message be? Well anyway here’s something like what I think I would say.

Stop fucking up the planet. Rebalance and restructure everything (see my previous thoughts). Treat the planet and it’s inhabitants, collectively and individually, as you would wish it to treat you — gently, with kindness, respect and consideration.

In a way it is what the Dalai Lama would call compassion. Compassion: the sensitive and sustainable treatment of the planet and all its inhabitants, from the human species, through animals and plants to the oceans, the air we breathe and the rocks beneath our feet.

It doesn’t say you can’t dig coal, but to do it sensitively without despoiling the whole landscape.

It doesn’t say you can’t chop down a tree, but to do it sustainably: plant a replacement tree.

It doesn’t mean you can never eat meat again, just eat less of it and grow food sustainably with grazing animals on more marginal land and arable using the best land.

It doesn’t say you can’t catch fish, but again do it so that you don’t rape the seas until there are no viable fish remaining.

And it doesn’t say you can’t smelt iron, but you should do as much as you can to reduce the concomitant pollution.

Just think about what you’re doing and the long-term implications.

Do as you would be done by.

That’s all. But it is so hard!

arts, pleasures, ramblings, topographical

Fast Break in Somerset

We’ve just come back from a flying overnight visit to Frome in Somerset.

The trip was to attend a lecture (put on by the Frome Society for Local Study as part of the Frome Festival) by biographer Hilary Spurling on Anthony Powell and his house The Chantry, which is just outside Frome.

Hilary, who knew the Powell well, is currently working on his official biography and her lecture delved around in some of her preliminary thoughts about Powell’s relationship with the early 19th century house he occupied for the second half of his life. That was a relationship, she suggested, which was one factor in making Powell’s magnum opus A Dance to the Music of Time the novel it is; without the country solitude Powell would likely not have been able to write Dance in the way he did. This made for a hugely interesting lecture, although as Hilary commented these were early thoughts and she had been reluctant to expose them to public view so early in her writing process. (This also explains why there will not be a text made available.) If they are a sample of the depth and perceptiveness of her finished biography it will be just brilliant.

Following the lecture Noreen and I went, with Anthony Powell Society Chairman Paul Nutley, to La Bisalta, Frome’s most superb Italian restaurant for a delicious late dinner. This is a small family-run restaurant in a converted house on the edge of the town centre — and actually a restaurant Powell knew but under its previous owners. Despite arriving, unannounced, after 9pm we were warmly welcomed and magnificently fed and watered; so magnificently that none of us could manage a pudding! I had a really delicious hot Antipasto Caldo, which came to the table literally sizzling on the plate, followed by a wonderfully rich Tagliolini with porcini mushrooms in a cream sauce, washed down with some well-chilled Peroni. Paul and Noreen both had duck breast as a main course, which they reported to be equally excellent. We staggered off to our respective dormitories not much before 11.30! ★★★★★

Room 1

Noreen and I were staying in the Archangel. According to Paul, who knows Frome well, this was until a few years ago a very scruffy back-street pub. But it has now been heavily refurbished as a small, contemporary hotel, bar and restaurant. The style is a fusion of the old rustic (stripped stone walls) with the contemporary (stainless steel, dark woodwork, bare pipework, strange-shaped sinks and sumptuous sofas which it is impossible to climb out of). Our room (above) was a strange fusion of Goth with dark purple paintwork and soft furnishings, mostly bare (old) plaster walls, and a huge photographic mural of Fra Angelico’s Angel of the Annunciation. The bathroom was the size of most people’s sitting room with a steel bath the size of the Titanic! The bed was heavenly soft, especially after what had been a tiring day. Breakfast was excellent, everyone was extremely friendly and although not cheap it wasn’t unreasonably expensive either at £125 for a double room including breakfast. The owners deserve to make a success of what has clearly been a huge investment. ★★★★★

The return train journey from London Paddington to Westbury was painless and on time despite getting drowned by a torrential rain-shower boarding the train on the return journey. Paul kindly conveyed us to and from the station. ★★★★★ again.

We were away from home for just 27 hours, but it felt more as if we had been gone the best part of a week! An all-round super trip despite not having any real time to explore Frome itself.

personal, ramblings

Five Questions #1

A couple of days ago I posed five questions. Five seemingly simple questions which turn out to be quite hard when you actually have to answer them and which make you think about both who you are and what you stand for.

And I promised that I would answer them, one at a time, over the coming weeks.

What’s more, being nearer to a control freak than I care to be, I’ll answer them in sequence.

So here are some thoughts on Question 1.

How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?

Well this turns out to be a bit like “how long is a piece of string?” or perhaps mre accurately “think of a number, double it etc.”

Let’s start with the easy bit first. Chronologically I’m 61½ years old. But …

In outlook I’m probably more like a grumpy old git of 80+.

Intellectually I’d say I’m where I should have been at about 40, had I actually woken up in time, instead of about 20 years too late. In terms of intellectual thinking I’ve probably made much more progress in the last 5 years than I did between 24 and 44. That’s partly because it wasn’t until my mid-40s that I started to rise above the awful pessimism exuded by my father.

Mentally — socially — in terms of where I see myself, I doubt I’ve ever got much past 25 and certainly not past 30. But then I bet if most people were honest they’d say that inside they’re stuck somewhere in their 20s.

Oh and emotionally? Well I can easily be a 6 year old! I’ve just learned not to have tantrums in public: it frightens the muppets.

In some ways that’s quite scary in that I could chameleon myself to be almost any age I choose. In other ways it’s good because it means I don’t so easily get stuck in a rut.

So now, who else is going to own up?