What I said to the Planning Inspectorate

 

I was one of the nearly 40 people who spoke up in defence of Weekley Hall Wood and Meadow this week. This is what I said.

My words this evening come from my heart and while I appreciate that planning decisions must be made on legal grounds, there is surely some space for common sense and compassion.

Although I’m a recent émigré to Northamptonshire, having been here a mere 40 years, my children were born here. They both explored the woods on foot and on their bikes. Now our whole family enjoys the physical and mental health benefits of the natural environment there. I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that on the dark days, Weekley Hall Wood and Meadow has been a life-saver.

Perhaps you’re not swayed by an emotional response, but let’s not forget that while you’re here in an official capacity, you surely have a place in your own life that is special to you. How would you feel if a warehouse were to be built on this?

There has been talk about the creation of thousands of jobs. Well, I worked for over 20 years for the Chartered Institute of Logistics and Transport, and as such I am familiar with the skills shortages that prevail throughout the entire sector. The developers claim they will be creating jobs. No, they will be creating vacancies that will not be filled.

The traffic considerations, too, have been explored. Imagine yourself standing in our meadow or in your own special piece of the countryside, listening to the birds sing. Now imagine how difficult this it would be against a background of the rumble and disturbance of lorries and warehouse activity, not to mention the chaos that would occur during the construction phase.

I could wax lyrical about the wonderful opportunity that this situation offers the Duke to put right in part the atrocities carried out by his ancestors during the Newton Rebellion. However, I doubt you’d be swayed by such rhetoric. But what a lovely gesture it would be if the Duke were to give this land back to the town, perhaps as a country park. There is no doubt we are in the midst of a climate emergency and should be preserving our natural world. We have heard recently that England will get a new national park as part of a government set of ‘nature pledges’ to give greater access and protection to the countryside. Let’s accommodate that intention here. It would be so much better a legacy than concrete and steel.

We have of necessity been subject to a lot of legalise and jargon during these proceedings. ‘Mitigation’ has joined the list of my most hated words. And if we decipher that other phrase – ‘impact on biodiversity’ – we will see that it means destroying plants and killing wildlife.

There are many reasons not to allow this development but I cannot think of one reason to let it go ahead.

I’ve heard it said that there is no room for morals in planning decisions. Prove me wrong, please, by dismissing Buccleuch Property’s application. Thank you.

Last week I gave a talk to a local WI group about how to be a rebel. Here in Kettering, we have an ongoing battle to prevent half a dozen warehouses being built on an area of woodland and a wildflower meadow, and that was the starting point for my presentation. If you want to know more about the Newton Rebellion and the fight to Save Weekley Hall Wood, click here.

Then I segued into an introduction to Extinction Rebellion. I've not (yet) been called upon to glue myself to anything, but I've done a bit of shouting and taken part in various actions that, depending on your point of view, might be considered close to the line that divides legal from arrestable.

There is so much that needs fixing in the world that it's hard to know where to start. Indeed, some days it seems overwhelming and it's tempting to throw in the towel and let the world go to hell in the proverbial handcart. However, as Mr Thorley wisely says, 'That's what "they" want you to do." So we fight on.

Anyway, the WI ladies were lovely. They listened carefully and asked lots of questions. Many of them seemed as outraged as I am, and they took away leaflets and details of where to go for further information or to get involved. I did, though, try to reassure them that getting arrested wasn't necessary, that there is plenty of gentle but effective action that can be taken:

• Read the planning applications in your local paper and oppose them if they seem iffy
  
• Look at those laminated notices that your council sticks up on lamp posts
• Sit in the public gallery at council meetings so you know what's going on
  
• Write letters and sign petitions - hell, why not start a petition?
• Many of you who read this blog are writers, so submit articles to newspapers and magazines
• Report problems on Fix My Street
• Make a placard for someone to carry on a protest
• Put up a poster in your window

The key thing is to do something to make the world a better place. If not you, then who?

You've let me down, you've let yourself down

I rarely struggle for something to write on this blog, but since my last post I've not felt inclined. I've been in a bit of a grump, and I'm sure - well, I know from what people have said - that I'm not alone.

For the last few weeks, I've almost enjoyed the lockdown: not the effects on health and the appalling statistics and the incompetence of the government, but the cleaner air, the increase in bugs and birds in my garden, the quiet and the level of courtesy that seemed to be growing. I started to think perhaps we were moving towards a kinder, gentler world.

And then BoJo spoiled everything with the ridiculous announcement about not going to work unless you had to go to work, and not using public transport unless you had to use public transport, and not being able to see your parents unless you put your house on the market and they booked a viewing. Almost overnight, something changed. People are saying 'Sod it.'

My daily walks have been restricted to places I can reach without getting into the car, because I've been following orders. People have been respecting my two-metre exclusion zone and moving out of the way with a smile, a wave and sometimes even a cheery word. On Sunday, though, we went into our nearby woodlands (the ones threatened with destruction) and there were people everywhere, not just family groups, but also gaggles of all sorts, heads down, not moving to the side, not smiling, not even acknowledging anyone else's existence.

And then there's the litter that has suddenly reappered. Why would you go to the trouble of venturing into the nearest thing we have to countryside and then leave a trail of paper and plastic? Who has been so desperate for a coffee that they've been to Starbucks, carried their cup on to the footpath and then just dropped it?

My rose-tinted specs have been consigned to the bin. I'm  disheartened. My message to the public is this: I'm very disappointed in you.