One small step for the politicians

Two speeches and a draft bill may not make for a revolution, but Mark Lynas hails a significant shif

If Gordon Brown got one thing right in his speech to the Green Alliance, it was his admission that we have entered a "new era" in world events. As Brown and his prime ministerial challenger David Cameron have both begun to recognise, old certainties are falling away as the public recognises our planetary ecological emergency. We are left floundering in unfamiliar political surroundings. The process is happening not just here in Britain, but worldwide.

Some of the likely results can already be identified, and the most important one is this: our position on the environment will be the defining question of the 21st century, just as ideology on wealth distribution was in the 20th, and religion in the 18th. Conventional polarities of left and right are ceasing to matter: neither points the way ahead for a civilisation that must completely alter the way it operates if it is to avoid a biological collapse and climatic meltdown, which most of humanity would not survive.

British politics is in flux, still adjusting to this new reality. Sensing the changing mood of the electorate, all major parties are vying for the new green ground. But awareness of the need for change is far from being universal: much of the Tory press, for example, is historically sceptical of environmentalism and violently opposed to Cameron's new stance. Conservative MEPs, too, seem less than convinced. They have the worst environmental voting record in the EU of any party. The furore over John Redwood's "global warming is good" blog entry illustrates both the divisions within the party, and how far the mainstream has shifted. Whereas Redwood's views might once have commanded majority support, he now looks like a crank.

Head to head

On 12 March, both Brown and Cameron (his shoes are pictured, left) made ground-breaking environmental speeches in a head-to-head battle to seize the green initiative. (The real Greens were left fuming as they saw their policies, like clothes, stolen one by one.) Brown is still some way behind - his moves to ban old-style light bulbs and to speed up the transition to low- carbon homes are welcome, but hardly radical. By contrast, Cameron's recognition that the growth in aircraft emissions must be constrained - even at the risk of upsetting frequent flyers - suggests a willingness to tackle damaging lifestyles for the first time.

Nor are national politicians the only ones making the change. In London, Ken Livingstone has transformed himself from Red Ken to Green Ken with an admirably ambitious programme to reduce the capital's carbon emissions by 60 per cent by 2025 - a target which, if adopted more widely, might actually make a big dent in the global problem. Livingstone has made common cause with the governor of California, Arnold Schwarzenegger, whose participation in a five-state initiative to cut emissions shows how US politics is also changing. Al Gore may not be planning to storm the White House brandishing his Oscars, but it is no longer conceivable that any future president - Democrat or Republican - will echo George Bush's line on global warming.

The same change has happened across the industrialised world. In Canada, the Conservatives were elected on an anti-Kyoto platform, but have had to reverse their stance due to widespread pressure. In Australia, John Howard's government was once second only to Bush in outright climate-change denial - but it, too, has had to shift with the times. Now Howard makes speeches proposing carbon markets and ramps up investment in renewables. Australia has become the first country to agree a full ban on incandescent light bulbs. In France, presidential candidates have all hurried to sign up to a "green pledge" to avoid being challenged by a popular environmentalist TV personality. Where once immigration might have been the key issue, now it is global warming. In business, multinational companies such as Wal-Mart and DuPont are falling over themselves to convince consumers they are serious about going zero-carbon.

Translating this political shift into real emissions cuts remains the hard part, but it is becoming easier as electorates across the developed world signal their readiness to participate in big lifestyle changes. Livingstone's assertion - that "to tackle climate change you do not have to reduce your quality of life, but you do have to change the way you live" - nails the challenge for policy-makers across the globe: how to transform the need for emissions cuts into the kind of progressive social change that people are likely to welcome rather than oppose.

In the UK, David Miliband's proposed climate-change bill gives the first signs that the government is confident about such a move: the bill is a real milestone towards the eventual transformation of this country into a low-carbon economy, and puts the UK in a true leadership position as the only nation to commit to legally binding reductions in CO2. That these cuts will come about in the form of five-yearly "carbon budgets", rather than the annual targets demanded by Friends of the Earth (to whom much of the credit for the bill must go) is disappointing, but not critical. The government will still have to answer to parliament on its progress every year, and its performance will be scrutinised by an independent committee on climate change. The idea of carbon budgeting being just as important as economic budgeting is also crucial. Moreover, the new "enabling powers" contained in the bill allow for the introduction of personal carbon allowances (or "carbon rationing") without any further legislation being necessary - a highly significant move.

For his part, Brown has a chance in his remaining days as Chancellor to back up his words with some hard cash, particularly for the Department of Trade and Industry's Low Carbon Buildings Programme, which is being throttled at birth by a shortage of funds. A government that continues to pump billions into road-widening schemes while choking off the already miserly funds provided to the emerging renewables sector will struggle to be taken seriously - by climate campaigners and by the general public.

It will take more than a single speech for Brown to convince environmentalists that he will make a green prime minister, but many will now be viewing his impending premiership with a little less dread than they did previously.

The real lesson of the week's events, however, is a larger one: just as no US presidential candidate will be able to deny climate change and get elected, no future British prime minister will be able to contemplate politics without putting the environment at the centre. To both men's credit, it seems as if Brown and Cameron, the two main contenders, have begun to realise this.
Mark Lynas's book "Six Degrees: our future on a hotter planet" is published on 19 March (£12.99)

See also . . .
From Trident to tax to climate change: the party speaks by Peter Kellner
A YouGov survey indicates a divided mood among Labour members. Here we publish the full results of the poll

Mark Lynas has is an environmental activist and a climate change specialist. His books on the subject include High Tide: News from a warming world and Six Degree: Our future on a hotter planet.

This article first appeared in the 19 March 2007 issue of the New Statesman, Trident: Why Brown went to war with Labour

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An English hero for the ages: Ian Botham at 60

Botham blends his sportsmanship and deep-seated passion for cricket with a lust for life.

Begging W H Auden’s pardon, it is possible both to honour and to value the vertical man, and in the case of Ian Botham, who turned 60 on 24 November, it is our bounden duty. No sportsman has given Britons so much to enjoy in the past half-century and no sportsman is loved more. Two decades after he retired from first-class cricket, his reputation as one of life’s champions remains unassailable.

No mere cricketer is he, either. Botham is a philanthropist, having raised more than £12m for various charities, notably Leukaemia and Lymphoma Research. In December, 30 years after his first walk from John o’Groats to Land’s End, he will set off again, in South Africa, where England are on tour. And he really does walk, too, not amble. As somebody who accompanied him on one of his dozen walks said: “You can’t keep up with him. The man is a phenomenon.”

Of all postwar sportsmen, only Bobby Charlton and, at a pinch, Henry Cooper come close to matching Botham’s enduring popularity. But Charlton, a shy man who was scarred by the Munich plane crash of 1958 (and may never have recovered from its emotional effects), has never comfortably occupied a public stage; and Cooper, being a boxer, had a solitary role. Botham, by contrast, spoke for England. Whenever he picked up his bat, or had a ball in his hand, he left spectators in no doubt.

Others have also spoken for England. Bobby Moore and Martin Johnson, captains respectively of England’s World Cup-winning football and rugby teams, were great players but did not reach out to people as naturally as Botham. Nick Faldo, Lester Piggott, Sebastian Coe and, to bring us up to date, Lewis Hamilton have beaten the best in the world, but they lacked those qualities that Botham displayed so freely. That is not to mark them down. They were, and are, champions. But Botham was born under a different star.

It was John Arlott, the great cricket commentator, who first spotted his uniqueness. Covering a match at Taunton in 1974, he asked the young colt to carry his bags up the rickety staircase to the press box, where Arlott, wearing his oenophile’s hat, pulled out a bottle of red wine and invited Botham to drink. Forty years later Botham is a discriminating wine drinker – and maker. Along with his friend and fellow England great Bob Willis, and their Australian wine­making pal Geoff Merrill, he has put his name to a notable Shiraz, “BMW”.

Arlott, with his nose for talent and good company, saw something in the young Botham that Brian Close, his captain at Somerset, was beginning to bring out. Later, Mike Brearley, as England captain, drew out something even more remarkable. As Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote, you’ve got to be carefully taught. And Botham, a fine team man as well as a supreme individual performer, has never withheld praise from those who enabled him to find his voice.

If sport reveals character, then cricket is the game that reveals it most clearly. In no other sport is the individual performance rooted so firmly in a team context. Every over brings a contest of skill and intelligence between batsman and bowler but only a team can win the match. “A cricketer,” as Arlott said, “is showing you something of himself all the time.”

Cricket also reveals national character more than any other sport. Football may be the most popular game in the world but cricket, and cricketers, tell us far more about England and Englishness. It is instructive, in this regard, to hear what Philippe Auclair, a French journalist and author long resident in London, has to say about Botham: “He is essentially an 18th-century Englishman.” In one! It’s not difficult to sense a kinship with Tom Jones, Fielding’s embodiment of 18th-century life, who began his journey, as readers may recall, in Somerset.

A country boy who played for Worcestershire after leaving Somerset, and who lives by choice in North Yorkshire, Botham is an old-fashioned Englishman. Although nobody has yet found him listening to the parson’s sermon, he is conservative with a small and upper-case C, a robust monarchist, handy with rod and gun, and happiest with a beaker in front of him. He represents (though he would never claim to be a representative) all those people who understand instinctively what England means, not in a narrow way, but through something that is in the blood.

Above all, he will be remembered for ever as the hero of 1981. Even now it takes some believing that Botham bowled and batted with such striking success that the Australians, who were one up after two Tests, were crushed. Some of us who were actually at Headingley for the famous third Test – thousands who claim to have been there were not – recall the odds of 500-1 on an England victory going up on the electronic scoreboard that Saturday evening.

Botham made 149 not out as England, following on, beat the Aussies by 18 runs. For three hours the country seemed to stop. In the next Test, at Edgbaston, Botham took five wickets for one run as Australia fell under his spell. Then, at Old Trafford, on a dank Saturday afternoon, he played the most memorable innings of his life and one of the greatest innings ever played by an Englishman: 118 magnificent, joyful runs. Joy: that’s the word. Botham brought joy into people’s lives.

Yet it was the final Test at the Oval, which ended in a draw, that brought from him a performance no less remarkable than those from before. He bowled 89 overs in that match, flat out, continuing to run in when others withdrew with injury. That was the team man coming to the fore. Little wonder his comrades thought the world of him.

Modest, loyal, respectful to opponents, grateful to all who have lent him a hand, and supported throughout a turbulent life by Kath, his rock of a wife, and their three children, this is a cricketing hero to rank with W G Grace, Jack Hobbs, Wally Hammond and Fred Trueman. A feature in the lives of all who saw him, and a very English hero. 

This article first appeared in the 26 November 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Terror vs the State