In mid-September, I travelled up to Scotland to speak at The Big Picture Conference 2024, held by the growing and influential rewilding charity Scotland: The Big Picture headed up by Peter Cairns as the Executive Director.
I was invited to give the first talk of the day, in a programme of inspiring speakers to an audience of over 600, from all over the country.
My talk centred on the pain of experiencing the loss of nature and finding hope through that pain. Grief can be transformed into rocket fuel to power through new and imaginative ideas for change. It is easy to be demoralised, paralysed even, by the enormity of species loss and climate change, but that is not an option. Change IS possible.
I used the example of the Greenpeace Save the Whales movement In the 1970s and 80s. Save the Whales captured the imagination of the world and inspired Greenpeace to perform acts of courageous defiance, putting their small inflatables between whales and the whaling ships, sometimes with harpoons firing over their heads. We are where we are today, with the whaling moratorium announced in 1982, and many species increasing, because they put grief into action. 825 whales were killed in 2023, compared to 1985, when Russia was a big player, it was just shy of 5000.
These dramatic and heroic images were bolstered by the haunting whale songs made public by scientists such as Roger Payne. His work connected the general public to sentient, intelligent, singing creatures. I played whale song to the audience, and I also played the song of the Curlew with a photo of the last breeding Curlew in County Kerry three years ago, taken by Barry O'Donoghue. Both had a profound effect. Hearing nature is just as important as seeing it, and we don’t use sound enough to engage the public imagination.
I talked about spreading hope through the power of education. Knowledge imparts both power and courage, and we owe it to future generations to have the tools they need to face the climate and biodiversity crises. I talked about the GCSE campaign and why I was so passionate about the effect it could have on the future.
The other talks were, without exception, excellent, full of hope and inspiration for what people are achieving for nature, now.
Jenna Watt went deer shooting for conservation to better understand the multi-faceted approach we must take to keep the balance. Cameraman and marine biologist, Richard Shucksmith, showed wonderful footage of the wild and inspiring predators of the northern seas, Orcas, off the coast of Shetland. Sarah Watts enthused about the return of trees to the Scottish landscape, and Flo Blackbourn and James Shooter answered questions about conservation and told of their experiences visiting European rewilding projects.
Duncan Halley, a Scottish scientist living in Norway, explained his research into the effects of large predators on communities, looking specifically at Lynx. His take-home was that Lynx could easily be reintroduced to Scotland and would help to reduce deer numbers, and that he doubts that the fears farmers have about sheep predation will be realised.
In Norway, Lynx do eat sheep, but very few compared to the large number that die of other causes such as disease, accident or weather. Lynx far prefer deer as prey, sheep seem to be a second option. They never attack sheep in a pen, only those that graze close to woodland, which is not common in Scotland. He was very clear that compensation paid to farmers for loss or injury to stock doesn’t work, and it is far better to pay farmers for protecting Lynx if they live in their area. This makes farmers feel positively about Lynx, and in the long run is cost-effective.
A hero of mine, Lee Schofield, presented on his time at the RSPB rewilding Haweswater in the Lakes, which he captured so well in his superb book, Wild Fell. He overcame resentment, verbal and written personal attacks, as well as disappointment with Rory Stewart, his MP at the time. The transformation is astonishing. He firmly believes that sheep farmers and gamekeepers have a role, and that no single view can prevail in a complex, human-made landscape.
He began when the last male golden eagle lived in Haweswater, a lonely creature who looked for a mate every year for 12 years. He died in his 20s, “loneliness, not getting his end away for 12 years and an ever-changing landscape did for him”. When eagles return it will be red-letter day. The crags are still waiting. It is always energising to hear from someone who lives it and does it. Too easy to talk about bringing nature back, far harder to be at the coalface.
Another coalface talk was from the truly lovely Lynn Cassells who wrote a book with her partner Sandra Baer about crofting, with no previous experience, in the Cairngorms. They appeared in the BBC series This Farming Life.
She talked about how important it is to rest, to work in community, to know your purpose, to be kind and to not give up. They have breeding Curlews on their land, and I was very touched that she used Curlew as one reason they love the farm so much.
Christopher Preston gave the final keynote. He has the enviable job of being an environmental philosopher at the University of Montana and talked about how we have transformed our opinions of animals over time from negative to positive. He also used whales as an example, moving from whaling being a “noble craft” to now whales being greatly loved animals and our allies in the fight against climate change. How Beavers have moved from “furry bank notes” to now being seen as essential eco-engineers. A US bumper sticker says “Whatever your question, Beavers are the answer.” They are sour “experts and teachers” on how to control water and manage flood risk.
Wolves, too, used to be the “beasts of waste and desolation” but we increasingly respect them as resilient boundary-crossers who live by their feet. They make their own way across country borders, crossing the divide between rural and urban, inhabiting both natural and cultural narratives and crossing conceptual boundaries. Others do this too – gulls, pigeons, deer, foxes and rats - but wolves are the enigmatic, howling, evocative leaders. They are all boundary shifters.
In all, this was a day about hope that change can and is happening, and that we all have a part to play. The testimonials and examples keep my heart glowing and my spirits high.
One of the presenters, Jenna Watts, quoted musician, author and cultural icon, Nick Cave, on hopefulness. Nick went through the profound tragedy of losing two sons. I find his words very moving:
“It took a devastation to teach me the preciousness of life and the essential goodness of people. It took a devastation to reveal the precariousness of the world, of its very soul, and to understand that the world was crying out for help. It took a devastation to understand the idea of a mortal value and it took a devastation to find hope.
Unlike cynicism, hopefulness is hard-earned, makes demands upon us and can often feel like the most indefensible and lonely place on earth. Hopefulness is not a neutral position, it is adversarial. It is the warrior emotion that can lay waste to cynicism. It says the world and its inhabitants have value and are worth defending. It says the world is worth believing in. In time, we come to find that this is so.”
