Treading lightly on the planet

The results of Findhorn's ecological footprint analysis are encouraging - but there is still work to

We have just received the results of our ecological footprint analysis (a tool for measuring resource use) and the results are pretty encouraging. In fact, as far as we can tell, it is the lowest footprint ever recorded for any community (of any type or size) in the industrialised world. We weigh in at just a fraction over half the UK national average: 2.71 as compared to 5.4 hectares per capita.

The funny thing is that the initial reaction of many in the community to the results was somewhat sceptical. All our communications with the academic consultants responsible for the study were aimed at getting them to adjust our footprint upwards rather than down.

However, the consultants consistently came back with solid explanations, singling out several key characteristics as accounting for our historically low score: the largely vegetarian diet with a high local and organic content; our four wind turbines that make us net exporters of energy; and the strong ethic of communality that means we share resources and have a low per capita level of energy consumption. (Though the report does not say so, a further important reason why our consumption is so low is simply that we pay ourselves so little!)

There are, nonetheless, some flies in the ointment. The first is that even though our level of consumption is relatively low, if everyone on the planet enjoyed a level of consumption similar to ours in Findhorn, we would still need around one and a half planet Earths to satisfy the needs of the human family. (We would need about three planets to satisfy the needs of a global population at typical European standards of living and a staggering five planets if we were all to live like North Americans.)

Second, our community economy as it currently stands is dependent on air miles – lots of air miles! Over 3,000 people per year come to do courses here. We offer a wide range of programmes covering spirituality, ecology and arts. The proportion of people coming by public transport from within the UK is growing. However, we are very far north – Inverness is our nearest city – and many choose to fly.

In a sense, this is an inevitable price to be paid by all training centres, accentuated to some degree in our case by our location. Our judgement is that the benefits associated with the provision of inspiring and empowering education outweigh the associated weight of carbon. True, this is a difficult call to make. However, we know of many communities and other initiatives inspired by time spent at Findhorn that involve the choice to live more lightly on the earth. No doubt there are many more we know nothing about.

Debate is also lively on how we can encourage course participants to come by public transport. And a meeting has been called for early January on how we can move towards being a carbon-neutral (or at least carbon-light) community. This will inevitably involve further extensive tree planting in the Highlands by the community’s earth restoration charity, Trees for Life, which has already planted over 300,000 trees and has pledged to plant at least another 100,000 in 2007.

Paradoxes and ambiguities still abound. While the average Findhorn resident travels less than one percent of the national average in terms of car miles (due to the fact that most people work on site, with no need for commuting), our level of car ownership is relatively high. The car I co-own with two others spends a good 80 percent of its life sitting idle in its parking spot. Moreover, our use of aeroplanes is not far off the national average – primarily a symptom of the fact that this is such an international community and residents feel the need for occasional visits back home to visit family and friends.

The low overall energy score also masks an uncomfortable contrast between the spacious, elegant, highly energy-efficient eco-houses and the cold and draughty caravans that still play home to too many of our residents. Replacing the latter with the former has proved more costly and difficult than had been anticipated – though progress is made year on year.

Still, these various anomalies point to the fact that we live in an imperfect world and that the folk who live here face the same sort of dilemmas as folk everywhere else. And (thank God!) that they do not always “get it right” and sometimes make choices that illustrate the frailty of the shared human condition and the kinds of sad and compromised choices we all have to make.

But at the end of the day, these results shout out one message loud and clear above all the others. Namely, to significantly reduce one’s impact on the Earth does not necessarily need to entail suffering and deprivation. Living in a sharing community is not just fun. It also happens to be the best single strategy for reducing levels of consumption. In practical terms, this is because of the sharing of resources involved. However, it also underscores a more profound truth: owning lots of things is no compensation for a life spent within a network of high-quality relationships in a human-scale community. The need for consumerist toys drops when our true needs are met.

Jonathan Dawson is a sustainability educator based at the Findhorn Foundation in Scotland. He is seeking to weave some of the wisdom accrued in 20 years of working in Africa into more sustainable and joyful ways of living here in Europe. Jonathan is also a gardener and a story-teller and is President of the Global Ecovillage Network.
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Inside Big Ben: why the world’s most famous clock will soon lose its bong

Every now and then, even the most famous of clocks need a bit of care.

London is soon going to lose one of its most familiar sounds when the world-famous Big Ben falls silent for repairs. The “bonging” chimes that have marked the passing of time for Londoners since 1859 will fall silent for months beginning in 2017 as part of a three-year £29m conservation project.

Of course, “Big Ben” is the nickname of the Great Bell and the bell itself is not in bad shape – even though it does have a huge crack in it.

The bell weighs nearly 14 tonnes and it cracked in 1859 when it was first bonged with a hammer that was way too heavy.

The crack was never repaired. Instead the bell was rotated one eighth of a turn and a lighter (200kg) hammer was installed. The cracked bell has a characteristic sound which we have all grown to love.

Big Ben strikes. UK Parliament.

Instead, it is the Elizabeth Tower (1859) and the clock mechanism (1854), designed by Denison and Airy, that need attention.

Any building or machine needs regular maintenance – we paint our doors and windows when they need it and we repair or replace our cars quite routinely. It is convenient to choose a day when we’re out of the house to paint the doors, or when we don’t need the car to repair the brakes. But a clock just doesn’t stop – especially not a clock as iconic as the Great Clock at the Palace of Westminster.

Repairs to the tower are long overdue. There is corrosion damage to the cast iron roof and to the belfry structure which keeps the bells in place. There is water damage to the masonry and condensation problems will be addressed, too. There are plumbing and electrical works to be done for a lift to be installed in one of the ventilation shafts, toilet facilities and the fitting of low-energy lighting.

Marvel of engineering

The clock mechanism itself is remarkable. In its 162-year history it has only had one major breakdown. In 1976 the speed regulator for the chimes broke and the mechanism sped up to destruction. The resulting damage took months to repair.

The weights that drive the clock are, like the bells and hammers, unimaginably huge. The “drive train” that keeps the pendulum swinging and that turns the hands is driven by a weight of about 100kg. Two other weights that ring the bells are each over a tonne. If any of these weights falls out of control (as in the 1976 incident), they could do a lot of damage.

The pendulum suspension spring is especially critical because it holds up the huge pendulum bob which weighs 321kg. The swinging pendulum releases the “escapement” every two seconds which then turns the hands on the clock’s four faces. If you look very closely, you will see that the minute hand doesn’t move smoothly but it sits still most of the time, only moving on each tick by 1.5cm.

The pendulum swings back and forth 21,600 times a day. That’s nearly 8m times a year, bending the pendulum spring. Like any metal, it has the potential to suffer from fatigue. The pendulum needs to be lifted out of the clock so that the spring can be closely inspected.

The clock derives its remarkable accuracy in part from the temperature compensation which is built into the construction of the pendulum. This was yet another of John Harrison’s genius ideas (you probably know him from longitude fame). He came up with the solution of using metals of differing temperature expansion coefficient so that the pendulum doesn’t change in length as the temperature changes with the seasons.

In the Westminster clock, the pendulum shaft is made of concentric tubes of steel and zinc. A similar construction is described for the clock in Trinity College Cambridge and near perfect temperature compensation can be achieved. But zinc is a ductile metal and the tube deforms with time under the heavy load of the 321kg pendulum bob. This “creeping” will cause the temperature compensation to jam up and become less effective.

So stopping the clock will also be a good opportunity to dismantle the pendulum completely and to check that the zinc tube is sliding freely. This in itself is a few days' work.

What makes it tick

But the truly clever bit of this clock is the escapement. All clocks have one - it’s what makes the clock tick, quite literally. Denison developed his new gravity escapement especially for the Westminster clock. It decouples the driving force of the falling weight from the periodic force that maintains the motion of the pendulum. To this day, the best tower clocks in England use the gravity escapement leading to remarkable accuracy – better even than that of your quartz crystal wrist watch.

In Denison’s gravity escapement, the “tick” is the impact of the “legs” of the escapement colliding with hardened steel seats. Each collision causes microscopic damage which, accumulated over millions of collisions per year, causes wear and tear affecting the accuracy of the clock. It is impossible to inspect the escapement without stopping the clock. Part of the maintenance proposed during this stoppage is a thorough overhaul of the escapement and the other workings of the clock.

The Westminster clock is a remarkable icon for London and for England. For more than 150 years it has reminded us of each hour, tirelessly. That’s what I love about clocks – they seem to carry on without a fuss. But every now and then even the most famous of clocks need a bit of care. After this period of pampering, “Big Ben” ought to be set for another 100 or so years of trouble-free running.

The Conversation

Hugh Hunt is a Reader in Engineering Dynamics and Vibration at the University of Cambridge.

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.