Resilience Hierarchy

I was delighted to spend Wednesday morning this week at a conference on the subject of Peak Money organised by the Transition Network. Economics has been a key theme of Transition since the beginning. Useful outcomes have been the book on Local Money by Pete North and the economics content of the Transition Timeline book by Shaun Chamberlain. Both are available from Green Books.

I tried to fit into the 'transition culture', although that isn't always easy for me, since my motivation is for political action as much as local practice, and the discomfort some of the transitioners feel for this sort of critique is difficult for me at times. I seem to become cast in the role of angry politico, always taking a critical position. While I like to reframe myself as the grit in the oyster, it doesn't always make for an enjoyable exchange.

I used my time on Wednesday to share some of the political-economy background to the question of how Transition Towns should deal with the economic crisis, focusing on the question 'Why waste a good crisis?' I feel that we are wasting this crisis. The reality is that only the 2008 Recession managed to successfully reduce UK CO2 emissions, which makes our point that tackling the growth imperative of the capitalist economy is vital to ensuring an adequate response to climate change.

I also felt bound to question the idea of 'peak money', which I find unhelpful in spite of the slide in Tony Greenham's presentation which was fairly suggestive of a peak curve for net lending by UK banks. My concern about the concept is that it draws a parallel between a natural, non-renewable resource, whose exhaustion is inevitable, with a socially constructed tool that we can change at will. Since much of the business of economics is precisely about creating abstractions, imbuing them with power, and then using them to acquire resources, it seems to me vital that those of us building a sustainable economy should be very clear about what is real and what is subject to social or political control.

Instead of the idea of 'peak money' I suggested the idea of a resilience hierachy, moving from the least to the most abstract. In this way of framing the economy, money comes at the bottom of the hierarchy, because it is highly abstract and (as somebody once said) you cannot eat it. Fossil fuels might be somewhere in the middle: real but enhaustible. At the top of my hierarchy will always be land, the sole and eternal source of our support. To place land back at the heart of economics must be the most important task of a green economist.
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Green Queasing Gathers Support

Last year Colin Hines and Richard Murphy of Finance for a Future called for money to be into businesses helping us make the transition to a sustainable economy, a call which has been by Green MP Caroline Lucas and repeatedly on this blog. If we are to create money it needs to generate truly effective demand, not just disappear into banking black holes.

A recent post to Power Switch, the UK's peak oil discussion forum details how such a scheme might work. Meantime, more rhetorical support was offered by Tim Jackson during his presentation to the Schumacher centenary festivities in Bristol earlier in the month.

Meanwhile a useful piece of research commissioned by WWF indicates another important direction that manufactured money should be directed: towards transforming our energy grid towards sustainability. The report's encouraging conclusion is that:

'This report makes it clear that decarbonising the UK power sector by 2030 in an environmentally sustainable way that avoids reliance on risky nuclear technology and high levels of unabated gas is achievable without compromising the security of the UK’s electricity system.'
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Sunshine State or Resilient Region?

Those of us who are active in Transition Towns have been disappointed by the government's inability to respond to the impeding food crisis that will result from the exhaustion of oil supplies. So I was surprised, I'm not sure whether or not it was a pleasant one, to find that the Department for Business, Innovation and Skills employed some consultants in 2008 to develop a range of scenarios in response to the need to radically reduce our national use of energy.

The scenarios are based on a series of 2 x 2 matrices arising from two ‘axes of uncertainty’. The x-axis ‘describes the significant uncertainties in the global political and economic context in 2050’, while the y-axis ‘looks at the type of innovation which attracts investment’. On the x-axis are represented possible assumptions about the extent of co-operation between nations, while the y-axis marks out the continuum between investment in optimising existing systems or developing wholly innovative solutions.

This process results in four possible scenarios: Green Growth, Carbon Creativity, Resourceful Regions and Sunshine State. Two of the scenarios have commonalities with a bioregional future, although both are based on this relocalisation as a response to a failure of global solidarity which is by no means the basic assumption of a more regionally based economic future. In the first, the Resourceful Regions, ‘The key distinguishing feature is that English sub-regions have a high degree of autonomy, matching Scotland and Wales’:

‘The countryside is used more intensively than in the past, for food production, mining
and other activities. Within built up areas, retrofitting rather than new build is the
preferred approach. Any new buildings are increasingly built in a local vernacular
style, and there is considerable emphasis on urban green space to tackle overheating. People in this Britain like to think they are self-reliant, and are proud of being British, even though the country is closer to breaking up than any other time in the previous century. Their living conditions vary widely as regions have their own economic structures and differing levels of economic success. But acceptance of the situation is underpinned by strong regional identities and the effectiveness of most regional government’s moves to support vulnerable groups and public services such as public transport.’ (Foresight, 2008: 14)

In the Sunshine State scenario, ‘Government has fostered an emphasis on localism to respond to energy problems’ and there are other aspects of the imagined future that could find resonance with a bioregional approach: ‘There are more local shopping streets and other community resources, partly because of planning decisions intended to promote local autonomy and partly because of municipal enterprise.’

I cite these examples not to support their vision of the future, which I think is limited by the nature of the underpinning assumptions, as well as the method used, but to indicate that government is considering the future design of economic systems that must result from rapid reductions in energy use. Policy focus has been most strongly on the Green Growth scenario, with profit-driven companies providing technological solutions, and to a lesser extent the more co-operative Carbon Creativity approach, but these are political choices. In a democracy, visioning the future is a job for all and these scenarios make clear that a bioregional future of the sort I am proposing frequently on this blog is a realistic possibility already under consideration by policy-makers.
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If you want to save the species, get political

Is has become increasingly apparent during the past couple of years there is an inability amongst a wide range of people in politics and media to think about more than one issue at the same time. Since the financial crisis and the advent of deficit-vision any thought of showing concern for the environment has entirely evaporated.

In a sad report on the Transition Network website we learn the consequences of a shift in one administration from fluffy Lib Dem to market-hard Tories (that of Somerset County Council). The article quotes the authority's new hardline budget strategy: 'some services will be stopped completely e.g. climate change work, work on renewable energy, natural environment policy and delivery'. They have also sacked their Climate Change Officer. In the world of deficit-think, the environment is entirely forgotten.

The absence of any analysis around political economy was one of the criticisms most frequently made in the early days of the Transition movement, especially by academic commentators. Rupert Read, for example, made the case some three years ago that Transition Towns play a valuable demonstration role but cannot offer a sufficient response without taking politics seriously. Rob gave a spirited defence of the need for unleashing the powers of positive thinking and creative community action.

Like Rupert, and many other green politicians, I have been engaged in Transition initiatives from the start. And from the start I was well aware that any political support demonstrated by 'grey' parties who have always been adherents of the prevailing political and economic culture, whose existence relies on the power structure that is killing the planet, could only ever be partial and opportunistic. What has happened in Somerset appears to validate the view that inspiration, hard work and bright ideas, while important, are insufficient without political analysis, strategy and action.
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Transition Barter Habit Spreads up the Severn

A guest post from Simon Topping of Transition Gloucester.

Transition Gloucester recently held its first barter market, except we called it a “barter party” to make it feel more informal and experimental in case everything went horribly wrong! In fact the event went extremely well and has encouraged us to think how we might develop the idea in the future.

There were ten stalls at the market, held at Hucclecote Community Centre. Stallholders were asked to bring goods or services for their stall, roughly equivalent to ten pounds sterling. At the start of the market each stallholder was given ten “glevums”* with which to trade. They were told that they should try to return ten glevums at the end of the market which was to last for 45 minutes. They were also told that if they returned less than ten glevums then they had probably taken more than their fair share of goods and services on offer. If they returned more than ten glevums then they would have taken less than their fair share.

There was a rich mixture of goods and services on offer: homegrown fruit and vegetables, homemade wine, cakes and bread, mint tea and dried herbs, a selection of “service vouchers”, books, vintage records, low energy electric light bulbs and much more.

By the time the market was closed the majority of traders had exchanged most of what they had brought. Also, most traders ended up with roughly ten glevums, some with a few more, some with a few less. The deadline for the closing of the market encouraged those with too many glevums to make sure they bought something with them because, once the market was closed, the glevums would have no value.

We sat around with drinks after the market to talk about how it went. There were many positives, but also some questions:

Most traders were very pleased with the rich mix of goods they ended up with. We brought a pile of oinions to our stall and went away with a range of other vegetables, two books, a bag of mint tea and a low energy light bulb.

People also appreciated the direct link (in most cases) between the trader and what they were selling. The trader was usually also the producer (even with the books). There was a sense of connectedness in the whole process of producing, trading and, ultimately, consuming.

There was also a feeling that the trading was a social activity, as well as an economic activity – conversations naturally broke out over how goods had been grown or made and how best to use or eat or preserve what had been traded. This social interaction gave added value to what had been traded.

One very practical issue was how you could act as both buyer and seller at the same time. It was hard move around the stalls to see what was on offer and also be available at your own stall to sell your own goods. Maybe each stall should have both a buyer and a seller.

Some items were in high demand - two bottles of home made wine to be precise! How does the seller decide who to sell the wine to? Should s/he sell it to the person who gets there first – this might favour the fastest movers! Should s/he increase the price of the wine until somebody decides to drop out of the auction? And if the original price of the wine is increased then should the trader remove other items from their stall so that the total value of the goods they are selling is still the same as all the other traders? If not, that trader will have more glevums to spend than everybody else. Or should the wine seller keep the same price but just decide who needs it most!

The sort of conundrums which the barter market produced helped us unmask some of the hidden dynamics of markets, in particular how we measure value. The group who particpated in our experiment in bartering felt very positive about the event and we hope to run a further market in the coming months.

*The Roman name for Gloucester Tweet

Transitional Demand for a Town in Transition

We have reached the exciting stage of 'no turning back' with our local currency here in Stroud. As we go into shops and pubs making the case for the Stroud Pound many people ask 'What is the point of a local currency? Can't we just decide to spend more money in our local economy?'

Our currency is designed on the model of the German Chiemgau, which itself follows the model of the Worgl - the holy grail for currency enthusiasts, which allowed its small Austrian town to flourish like an economic oasis in the midst of the desert of inter-war Depression. The money, like most natural systems, deteriorates over time, which is intended to increase the speed with which it changes hands. This is the key feature that underpinned the success of the Worgl experiment.

But whether or not this works in Stroud, launching a local currency is an important political move, because it is a transitional demand. According to Len Arthur:

'Transitional demands are those which relate to current grievances and seem a legitimate solution but if won would create a direct challenge to power resources of those who dominate.'

Making your own money is a practical response to the failure of the capitalist economy and a commitment to your local community, but is is also a real and immediate challenge to the system itself and the monopoly on money creation by the banks. This is the reason why the Worgl system was shut down by the Austrian state. We are waiting with interest to see the reaction here if the currency is a success. Tweet

No Woe-Worn Creature

I've mentioned William Cobbett on this blog before, that time with reference to his reflections on the cottage economy. During the ferment of political activity that led up to the passing of the Great Reform Bill in 1832, Cobbett travelled the country reporting on the dreadful conditions being faced by working people. What he witnessed is reported in his endearing style - stranded between sentimentality and indignation - in his Rural Rides.

Cobbett visited Stroud in September in September 1826, when the British economy was suffering one of its periodic slumps, to the extent that he mentions more than 100 acres of fields which had racks for drying the newly dyed cloth on tenterhooks which were completely empty.

In spite of the interruption of trade and the low level of wages Cobbett notes that Gloucesteshire is a rich land. He finds none of the tough Northern attitudes here and the overseers and magistrates 'do not presume that they are to leave any body to starve to death':

'this is England, and not in 'the North', where those who ought to see that the poor do not suffer, talk of their dying of hunger and applaud them for their patient resignation! The Gloucestershire people have no notion of dying with hunger; and it is with great pleasure that I remark, that I have seen no woe-worn creature this day. The people seem to have been constantly well off. A pig in almost every cottage sty; and that is the infallible mark of a happy people.'

Cobbett enjoys an in-joke with his political economist reader, mentioning his meeting with a local plumber on his way to mend the pipes for 'Squire Ricardo' who is so rich that nobody would consider him a neighbour. The famous theorist of political economy lived near Stroud at Gatcombe Park, now home to Princess Anne. One of his sons was MP for Stroud following the Reform.

We are frequently accused in Stroud of being softy southerners, of having an easy job of the Transition. A friend cautions me to always be aware of the hat-grit balance when extolling the virtues of the bioregional economy. Do I dare to delight in my locally made hat while others in more depressed economies are struggling to survive?

There is a balance to be struck between the donning of the hair-shirt and the practice of joy. As Rob Hopkins points out, we are unlikely to tempt others to join us in the transition to a low-carbon future if we make it sound so unappealing. Likewise in modelling the future we want to build we should take care to ensure that there is restfulness and joy in our own lives. Tweet

The Artists' Way

It was Lesley Greene, the Green Party councillor in our local well-heeled village of Bisley who first made explicit the importance of art in a low-carbon economy. 'Once the oil runs out', she intoned in her rather pukka way, 'there'll be bugger all else to do'. Now it seems that local artists in Stroud and Dursley have found a way of using the recession to their advantage.

As economic times get harder the property rights carefully honed by the marketeers will start to buckle and bend. I'm not talking bread riots, here, but questions about why property should stand empty when others have a desperate need for it will become sharper. In the end people will ignore the law and start taking over what they need for themselves, their family and their community.

This was the situation in Argentina following the economic collapse of 2001. Named 'la Toma' (the Take), it was a spate of spontaneous actions by workers, who moved backed into factories from which they had been made redundant and restarted them as worker co-operatives. Capitalism had broken down but they still needed work and people still needed the product of that work.

The artists in Dursley are bringing life, creativity and vitality to a row of shops in the town, and the Woolworths in nearby Stroud, a mecca for artists since the time of the Arts and Crafts movement, is likely to follow soon. To think of these one-time temples to consumerism being liberated is refreshing, but the issue of land requisition or squatting will be next on the agenda as the recession bites deeper. Tweet

A Matter of Life and Death

I've been relying for some time on evidence of the disastrous decline in life expectancy in the Soviet Union as an indication of the negative effects of the rapid imposition of a market system. A detailed study published recently in The Lancet provides further underpinning for this case.

The key conclusion of the report is:

Rapid mass privatisation as an economic transition strategy was a crucial determinant of differences in adult mortality trends in post-communist countries; the effect of privatisation was reduced if social capital was high.

The authors are careful to avoid saying that a market system is intrinsically bad for your health. Rather it is the rapid move from one economic system to another that results in social, economic and consequently psychological dislocation. Other medical researchers, such as Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett, would disagree with this. Their new book has acres of graphs and tables indicating that the inequality inherent in a market economy itself is, literally, a killer.

If it is the rapid change that causes morbidity and mortality then we can predict a very unhealthy future for Western societies facing climate change and depleting oil supplies. What the research shows is that it isn't the lower living standards but the shock to the system of everything you have always known falling apart. Loss of meaning leaves human beings suffering from what Durkheim called 'anomie', resulting in aggressive behaviour and lack of self-respect and self-care.

By contrast, if offered a strong vision and when encouraged to co-operate to reach a shared goal people thrive, even if their material consumption falls. This is the message of the Transition movement, but one that is distressingly absent in the prescriptions of our politicians, who are still clining to an outmoded and unworkable social and economic model.

Let other folk make money faster
In the air of dark-roomed towns,
I don't dread a peevish master;
Though no man do heed my frowns,
I be free to go abroad,
Or take again my homeward road
To where, for me, the apple tree
Do lean down low in Linden Lea.

From Linden Lea by William Barnes, made famous as a song by Vaughan Williams (it's better with the music!) Tweet

Low Carbon High Life

To compete with phrases such as 'the lean economy', downsizing, voluntary simplicity and so on, a friend in the Transition Stroud group here in Stroud has come up with the slogan - 'Journey to a Low Carbon High Life'. Rather than giving up things in a painful process of self-denial, our slow shift towards a sustainable life will involve finding more creative and inspiring ways to meet our real needs.

A simple life does not mean a life empty of pleasure or meaning. In the Tao Te Ching, a work of Chinese spiritual wisdom written by the sage Lao Tzu as long ago as the 6th century BCE, the philosopher describes the world of the everyday as the world of 'the ten thousand things'. The hustle and bustle removes the possibility of peace and enjoyment of nature and our friends and family.

A small country has fewer people.
Though there are machines that can work ten to a hundred times faster than man, they are not needed.
The people take death seriously and do not travel far.
Though they have boats and carriages, no on uses them.
Though they have armor and weapons, no one displays them.
Men return to the knotting of rope in place of writing.
Their food is plain and good, their clothes fine but simple, their homes secure;
They are happy in their ways.
Though they live within sight of their neighbors,
And crowing cocks and barking dogs are heard across the way,
Yet they leave each other in peace while they grow old and die.


Reading this sort of passage brings home to me more forcefully the fact that all the stuff that we buy and all the scurrying around we do for work or 'holidays' not only destroys the planet but removes our ability to experience relaxation and joy. The more you remove yourself from these systems and choose natural local systems instead, the more they lose their attraction. It is not a choice to deprive yourself of something - more a gradual loss of interest.

But this doesn't mean the loss of beauty - in fact quite the opposite. You feel more inclined to wear exotic colours and eat delicious local food with slow enjoyment. Why don't you start with enjoying the abundance of perfumes from flowering trees at this time of year? Tweet

From ethical to bioregional consumption . . . and production

As we move towards a world of less trade we need to be thinking about how we will get hold of the things we really need. We can start making the adjustment now in our own consumption. This has two big advantages. First, it means that when the changes come - and they may be sudden and rapid - we will already be mentally prepared. Secondly, we can support the development of the markets offering the kind of goods we will be buying in the future, thus easing the transition.

Here are a few examples. I have a beautiful mug that I bought at a Christmas fayre. The local potter had just dug a hole near the college where she teaches and burrowed out some clay. She had spent a long time refining it and then turned it into a mug. This is an exceptional mug because she usually buys in clay from Staffordshire. She was as delighted as I am to see the exact colour of pottery made from Stroud clay. It is also unique since she only made one.

I also have a rush hat made by Sheila Wynter. Sheila goes every year in the right season with her son to the river Avon just above Tewkesbury. Here they dabble in the mud and cut the rushes. She brings them home and dries them in her workshop before weaving the hats. They have a curious rustic look which my daughter points out is just the look of the hat worn by the artist in the famous Van Gogh portrait.

For me these items exemplify everything about bioregional consumption. Obviously the first and most important factor is that they are made locally with local inputs. But there is the depth of relationship between me and the person who made the item that fills me with delight every time I have a cup of coffee or go out wearing my hat. Of course for me they are also object lessons which people I meet - unfortunately for them - cannot escape.

Perhaps most importantly of all, they are expensive. In the global economy you seek the lowest price. In the bioregional economy the adman's slogan 'reassuringly expensive' may be a better guide. My rush hat cost £24. Given the amount of work for Sheila in cutting the rushes, preparing them, and weaving the hat this is an absurdly small amount of money. But if it had been made by a Chinese slave it would have cost a fifth of this price. So when you consume bioregionally you will have much less stuff, but it will be of vastly better quality.

It's not just about consumption; it's also about production. I came to know Sheila because I am learning basket-making from her. If you are the sort of person who bemoans the fact that there is so little available to buy from local producers you can start by choosing to buy what there is and paying a just price. But the next step is to start making something yourself - the guidelines are that it should be something that is genuinely needed in the community and that you can find the materials locally.

And remember the other hint from Robinson Crusoe: use what the global economy has already invested energy in to the maximum before you resort to buying new of any sort. So patching and mending and buying from charity shops is a good solution for stuff your local economy doesn't provide yet. Why not go for showy, artistic patches: make a political statement with your darning! Tweet

My Vineyard has been Turned into a Shopping Centre

One of the most beautiful things encountered in Lisbon during my recent trip was the of range citrus trees growing right in the heart of the city. Making cities productive - what is sometimes referred to as 'edible estates' or, in a more rural setting, 'edible landscapes' - will be key to our survival once peak oil begins to bite. Much as happened in Havana when food imports became too expensive we will be growing vegetables on verges and waste-ground.

As part of the Transition Towns initiative activists in Totnes have been planting nut-trees on spare ground, and Stroud's mayor has agreed that in future urban tree-planting will focus on fruit-bearing trees. Sweet chestnut is a particular favourite, since it is leafy and gorgeous, produces useful tasty food, and its wood is durable and excellent for a variety of uses.

Sadly, elsewhere Lisbon is not so friendly to urban production. Campo Pequeno and Campo Grande are areas of the city that were once wine-growing fields, small and large, and are now concrete oases and tube stations. My hotel was near Campo Pequeno, where I began to notice eerie echoes of an earlier post. Not only does it have a bull-ring (in this case the genuine article) but underneath it is another shopping centre. In contrast to Birmingham, the shoppers are underground, the sports' fans in the fresh air.

I also began to understand the true meaning of the theory of comparative advantage, a bogus economic justification for free trade that was originally outlined by David Ricardo in terms of trade between the UK and Portugal - we make woollen cloth and export it in exchange for Portuguese wine. Our climate favours one and theirs the other. Since the theory is about justifying trade in goods when one country is always more efficient it isn't really a very good example.

Except that I discovered from my guidebook that the reason there was free trade between these two countries is that it was bought some 50 years early at the barrel of a gun, or rather to allow Portugal to avoid the barrels of Spain's guns. Britain offered military protection under the Methuen Treaty but in exchange Portugal had to agree to let UK cloth in cheap, undercutting domestic production and putting thousands of textile workers out of jobs.

It is astonishing in how many corners of the world you encounter examples of our brazen, pro-capitalist, tread-on-your-face mentality in operation. No wonder my daughter says 'We are bastards aren't we mum?' Except that it wasn't the impoverished factory workers of Lancashire who benefited from this. But it does make us slightly more responsible for sorting the mess out. Tweet

Filthy rich

I have long cherished a vision of how a caring, sustainable economy will replace corporate capitalism. I imagine a hacienda set deep in the South American jungle. It is covered with graffiti and has broken windows--markers of previous violent attacks which failed. But the jungle is more persistent and powerful than the colonial power and green tendrils creep around the building and through the windows until it is completely overwhelmed by nature.

I was reminded of this vision when I first heard Rob Hopkins talking about bringing productive trees and plants into the city. Why shouldn't our verges and parks throng with whortleberries and wild strawberries? Here in Stroud the town council has agreed that in future trees planted in the town should be fruit-bearing. We already have one of our main cycleways planted as a linear orchard, preserving local apple species and providing fruit and conviviality in the autumn

Shortly after I read about Havana's organiponicos, or urban gardens, often roof gardens, I gave a talk in Birmingham called 'Who Will Feed the Cities?'. Walking back to the station through the urban moonscape that is central Brum I began to imagine the car parks filled with productive raised beds, and vines and fruit trees trained along the brick facades.

It has cheered me no end to see a similar vision being shared by advertising creatives. I first noticed the Baxters Farmers' Market soup advert, where the urban cat is replaced by a piglet and a bride's bouquet is made of carrots. This was followed by an advert for E-On where giraffes invade the office and a beaver is found in the water-cooler.

It seems to me that this is the opposite impulse to that which continues to drive well-paid executives into the countryside, which they immediately neutralise and suffocate with their 'city ways'. How welcome to see an invasion of the city by revolting peasants and their filth. Tweet

Clone Towns, Drone Towns and In-the-Zone Towns

I have been spending the past couple of days undergoing the slightly unpleasant experience of unpicking a long-held prejudice. The specific item is my dislike of 'the home counties', a mythical region I imagined as extending in all directions around London about as far as Dorset, in the West, and East Anglia in the North. I had imagined it stuffed full of Tories and snobs ever since unpleasant experiences with some public school alumnae many years ago in Oxford.

The Transition Town of Lewes was, consequently a revelation. Sussex is apparently outside any conceiveable definition of 'home counties' and even I could never have included Brighton in the realm of received pronunciation, over-indulgence and inexpressibly repressed emotions personified by Celia Johnson. But Lewes turns out to be a home of anarchists and subversives with enough rebelliousness to keep me happy for a lifetime.

Tom Paine lived there for a number of years. I love Tom Paine because he not only engaged in practical revolution but also indulged in numbers, personally recalculating the national accounts of his time in a notebook to demonstrate the rip-offs at play. This subversive spirit has continued in the annual ritual of Bonfire held in the town which led to the last reading of the Riot Act in 1847. Ostensibly a local extension of the national 5th November celebrations, Bonfire in Lewes is surely in reality a revival of much older anti-authoritarian pagan rituals.

Lewes residents have expressed their anarchic spirit more recently by refusing to accept the new parking scheme imposed on the town against the wishes of the citizenry. The local council had underestimated the pyrotechnical expertise of its opponents and so many of the meters have been blown up that the scheme is generating massive losses. The latest high-tech version can apparently wail a warning that it is about to explode but this has done nothing to lessen the level of attacks.

Since this blog has found its niche by focusing on economics I should mention that Lewes, in spite of all its character, has, according to the most recent survey, moved to the borderline between home town and clone town according to NEF's definition. I am sceptical about this. The town still thrives with local shops and is nothing like the drone towns producing willing workers for the City of London suggested by my now-foresaken prejudice.

I have always prided myself on living in havens of radical thought--Wales or Stroud to name but two--where we were right-thinking and shared none of the opinions of the media Utopia. But it is beginning to dawn on me that the media literally creates a utopia--a non-place--where we are all narrow-minded and selfish to conceal the fact that the whole country is in fact heaving with dangerous radicals.

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Transition Towns Make Money!

In spite of my advanced years I have recently embarked on a new career as the face that launched a thousand community currencies. Well, ok, just one so far with another coming soon and an open invitation to Brixton for something exciting in the near future. Next week on 24th I'll be in Lewes launching the community currency associated with the Transition Lewes process. In terms of Transition currencies I'm hoping to keep my 100% record, so invitations are welcome.

You may be wondering why Transitioners have the creation of a community currency as one of their top priorities, alongside growing carrots and eco-building. Why should such practical folk consider the effort involved in launching and sustaining a community currency to be worthwhile?

The disasters at Northern Rock exemplify the most important reason: the global financial system is, if you'll excuse me, rocky. Yes I know I'm an economist and so money is my bread-and-butter in a way it isn't for you (and you would not believe how difficult this makes decisions about mortgages and so on) but if you begin to think what life would be like without a functioning monetary system you may come to understand this sense of urgency.

In fact there is no need to imagine it because this situation happened, just a few years ago, in Argentina. The default of the peso led to a monetary vacuum into which commodities such as grain and soya became sucked, to become useable as currency. But the local currency that environmentalists had established a few years before was more flexible and soon became the main medium of exchange. You can find out more about this and its implications for local currencies in this country here: http://www.uea.ac.uk/env/ijccr/contents.html

In numerous other communities from Hungary to New Zealand and from South Africa to the USA local communities have decided to extract their labour and their lives from the global financial system and its inequities. In the case of the Transition Towns the impulse is predominantly about increasing resilience and ensuring that, if climate change brings financial meltdown on the Argentinian pattern, we will have a functioning shadow currency system to turn to. Peter North describes the adventures of these various pioneers in his book Money and Liberation (http://www.upress.umn.edu/Books/N/north_money.html)

There are quite a few questions for community activists seeking to launch their own currency. Should it have decay built into it by imposing demurrage, a sort of reverse interest that means money is gradually worth less over time? The mechanism was invented by German economist Silvio Gesell to increase the velocity of circulation of money, thus increasing economic activity during the 1930s recession in Europe.

But is this idea compatible with the green economist's wish to reduce economic activity? Perhaps the two motivations could be made compatible if the economic activity stimulated in the local economy displaced the more destructive global activity?

Should you deposit money in the bank to back the currency and allow convertibility? This certainly encourages confidence in the currency, but limits creation to the amount of sterling you can spare. Jonathan Dawson, Co-ordinator of the Global Ecovillage Network and a key player at Findhorn, told me that their currency, which is backed in this way, is acceptable at the rate of 100% in their local pub. Now that might get the punters interested.

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