Is Northern Ireland Spiralling out of Control?

There has never been so much consensus in Northern Ireland. There has never been so much discord.

The guy who cuts our trees thinks we’re Catholic, as we send our kids to the local Catholic school. We’re not (we’re Lundies). We think he’s Protestant, because of his name and the fact that we live in majority Protestant area. Last week, I was surprised to hear my husband drop a ‘Londonderry’ into the conversation – I assume to make the tree guy comfortable. And the tree guy comes back with a sentence containing five ‘Derrys’ – quite an achievement – to signal back that all is well.

This is Northern Ireland to me. The gentle, intricate and generous negotiation of difference. Using language, humour, silence – or whatever we need – to navigate the situation. Most of us do this on a daily basis. We’re pretty good at it.

But yet it’s been a long, damp summer of foul-temper in the north. To be expected perhaps, with the chaotic unknown of Brexit circling, and a local political vacuum.

It often feels like we’re on the verge of something leery. Settled parades are becoming contentious. Flags are tripling in size (where do you even get those?). Dissidents are stirring. The PSNI are struggling to police. Politicians are lobbing around loose lipped barbs and audibly sighing in frustration at each other’s points of pain.

On Facebook, Twitter and the Nolan show, there’s been little kindness or mutual respect. Being the school holidays, I’ve been making a lot of slime and lego models, and have found it impossible to keep up with the outrage du jour. But there’s a feeling of high anxiety in the air.

There are many reasons to hope that a return to violence is not the case. But it’s also not something to be dismissed when some of our most astute security correspondents are sounding concerned.

Allison Morris tweeted on 13th August 2019, “I despair at what is to become of this place, we had peace and squandered it, took it for granted and are now ripping it and each other apart - if something drastic isn't done to stop the slide we are heading in a very dark direction.”

Allison is usually right. She’s typically a calm player-down of tension, able to put things in context. It’s deeply worrying that this is what she’s picking up on the ground.

Ben Kelly captures the mood well in his article “Northern Ireland is already spiralling out of control but no one is paying attention.” He points out the string of security incidents over recent weeks and the complete lack of wider British interest. He is also spot on about the sicky feeling in many of our stomachs.

Meanwhile, however, there’s another story happening in Northern Ireland. A quiet stacking up of things that there’s a lot of agreement about.

In no particular order:

Identities are becoming more flexible. 50% people now see themselves as “neither” unionist or nationalist (NILTS 2018). Although people may ultimately have a constitutional preference, people are conveying an unprecedented political openness. This already being reflected in voting patterns, as demonstrated in the 2019 local and European elections with the rise of non-traditional parties.

The idea of two ‘tribes’ or ‘communities’ in Northern Ireland has always been pretty contrived, due to mixing and, you know, nuance. But if we are to persist in using these terms, surely the Others and neithers are now a third tribe. All of which overlap, and all of which contain newcomers who wouldn’t know Carson from Collins.

Young people are quite relaxed about traditional identifications and constitutional issues. In Naomi O’Leary’s words, the “swingiest swingy voters on Brexit and the constitutional status of Northern Ireland are the young… These are the real ‘you can’t eat a flag’ pragmatists.”

Naomi was referring to LucidTalk’s December 2018 tracker poll which asked people what their constitutional preference would be if there was a ‘no deal’ Brexit. Amongst 18-24 year olds, 37% said they were certain that they would prefer to stay in the UK if there was no deal, while 55% were certain they would prefer to join a united Ireland in this scenario. But if Brexit weren’t to happen, 72% of 18-24s said they were certain they’d prefer to stay in the union, and only 20% were certain about unity. These are massive swings, telling us just how politically flexible young people are.

In short, the future is bright. But it’s not necessarily orange, or green. Presuming we can find some jobs for these people to stick around, and don’t drive them away with our bitterness.

The last few years have also seen a significant debate on constitutional options for Northern Ireland open up. It’s not been easy, but conversations about how we imagine the future are now taking place. These are often practical discussions, with a focus on the economy, health, the accommodation of difference. And they are light-years away from the orange and green trenches of old.

We also mostly agree that London is making a dog’s dinner out of Brexit – 82.6% of us according to LucidTalk’s poll of August 2019. Even 60% of DUP supporters and 82% of UUP supporters think so. There is a long held view, amongst nationalists, others and many unionists that England does not understand the people or politics of Northern Ireland. And we certainly all agree that Karen Bradley could not organise a piss up at a garden party. We nearly all still want a peaceful open border on the island of Ireland, although clearly differ in our analyses of what this means in practice.

Importantly, there is a huge consensus that active paramilitary gangs are not wanted. 2019 has seen ordinary people stand up to dissident republicans in Derry, and the UVF in East Belfast, at considerable personal risk. While paramilitaries are certainly agitating at the moment, Sinn Féin are attempting to keep the dissidents in check, while community workers, the PUP and ex-combatant groups are attempting to do the same for loyalists. Albeit, in both cases, with mixed success.

According to PSNI data, in the year up until 31st March 2019 (just after the first Brexit deadline) security related incidents – bombs, shootings, killings, punishment attacks – were actually at the same level or down on previous years. There is no data yet released for the last 5 months. But it’s interesting to note that – so far – the tension on the ground here is not resulting in a spike in violence.

Yet.

Meanwhile in workplaces throughout the north, people of all tribes work pretty unproblematically side by side. Social housing is still deeply segregated. And schools are not really becoming more integrated. But Shared Education, for all its flaws, is making an impact. My kids’ Catholic school was a giant poppy fest this year, as they studied the world wars. The PSNI visited when the topic was “people who help us.” People of different backgrounds are more likely to meet each other, be friends, fall in love, than ever before.

One thing the vast majority of people seem to agree on is that it is not healthy to have no government. All political parties are calling for the restoration for Stormont, albeit on different terms. While we wait, we’re missing out on vital changes of legislation, funding and salary increases that are taking place in the rest of the UK. We are also falling far behind the pace of economic and social change in the Republic of Ireland.

A lesser talked about fact, is that most people in Northern Ireland agree that it is long past time to liberalise our laws on equal marriage, abortion and a range of other social issues. 89% of the population of Northern Ireland now agree that abortion should be decriminalised, and 71% support a women’s right to choose more generally, while only 16% do not support it (NILTS 2018). 68% agree there should be equal marriage, while only 24% disagree (NILTS 2018).

Equal marriage and abortion provision will be implemented in January 2020 and March 2020 respectively, if the Assembly is not functioning by 21st October 2019. These issues have essentially been taken out of the DUP’s hands by Westminster, thanks to Stella Creasy and Conor McGinn. Should an Irish Language Act find a similar sponsor in Westminster, all the better.

Signs of class unity are also sprouting shoots. The Harland & Wolff workersshouting ‘Save our Shipyard’ in Irish, with Acht Anois campaigners by their side, sent a powerful signal. Because we are not just dealing with the narcissism of our own minor differences in Northern Ireland. We’re in the throes of late stage capitalism. With welfare mitigations coming to an end here, and Brexit set to shake the economy, relationships between workers and unions have never been so important.

So what’s the answer then? Is Northern Ireland spiralling out of control or not?

No and yes, of course. To rob a phrase from Tyler McNally, we’re in between worlds, and monsters co-exist with advancements.

Sometimes it definitely feels like a spiral. Community relationships are under serious strain. Violence feels close to the surface. Eamon Phoenix on Talkback recently described Northern Ireland after partition as having a “sullen peace.” Today the north feels both sullen and quick to anger. Especially for those with anonymous Twitter accounts.

All the data tells us that we are a very different society to 1969 though, with huge changes in social attitudes, identities and mixing. And it doesn’t feel like there is residual support for violence amongst any section of the population.

But nor does it feel right to have a peppy conclusion. A careless, self-interested Westminster, deep structural inequalities and a small number of people snapping have set the place ablaze before. Of course it can happen again. A no deal Brexit would be sure to set off some kind of chain reaction. How bad, we don’t know.

While the PSNI data shows that security related crimes are not – yet – increasing, it shows that other crimes are. Drug offences, for example. Also sexual offences. Cruelty to children has increased. As has online harassment.

How many people do you know that are struggling with their mental health? How many can’t get access to the healthcare they need? On 21st August the Andersonstown News tweeted that there had been 15 suicides in the previous 10 days in Belfast. And where is the outrage?

This makes me wonder if Northern Ireland is spiralling. But not in the way we might think.

Maybe the malaise we are diagnosing as tribal may be more universal to life in late stage capitalism. Maybe the only names we know for it are orange and green. Maybe continual media framing of our ‘opposing views’ amplifies one problem and ignores the others. Maybe the cuts run much deeper.

We are certainly not alone in our falling apart. Look at the world. But our old wounds open up so easily. We know just how to hurt each other when we feel angry or afraid. The words come so readily. On this day. Never forget.

But the increasing inequalities of late capitalism and coming environmental collapse will be difficult enough to cope with without a sectarian conflict layered on top. Whatever the outcome of Brexit and our constitutional future, it would be unwise to drag our green and orange chains along with us. They are slowing us down badly in a context of accelerated global change.

It’s hard to engage with the future in a political vacuum. We need to stay focussed. Continue to navigate our differences with generosity and humour. To ramp up pressure on our politicians to locate their leadership skills (although they are welcome to wait until October 22nd). We need the local media to stop amplifying sectarian tensions. We need to get our shit together before – to misquote my favourite Sunday School song – the rains come down and the floods come up, and the walls come tumbling down.

Originally published on Slugger O’Toole on 25th August 2019.

Can Northern Ireland Change?

‘You have to have hope,’ my friend always tells me.

Usually this is after I’ve been outlining the likely facts of my children’s future, on account of our great leaders trashing the planet and laughing all the way to the bank.

‘You can’t live like that though, you have to have hope,’ she says.

I like Frankie Boyle‘s take on hope. If you see a leopard, hope is not a good evolutionary strategy.

There’s no point in saying, ‘Is that a leopard over there? Maybe it’s not a leopard. Let’s all just really hope that it isn’t, eh? Those people were eaten by leopards.’

Instead, you yell, ‘Leopard!’ And run for your life.

Hope is not a feeling, it is an action.

And so it follows that hope is a choice.

These are the four words used by William Crawley to finish Talkback on 24th April 2019, the day that Lyra McKee was buried. The programme focused on whether Lyra’s murder would be a turning point in this chapter of our story, or if Northern Ireland is unable to change.

Brian Feeney and Alex Kane started off. Based on their experiences living through and reporting the Troubles, they felt that they’d seen it all before. Nothing would change. A view which is not to be dismissed lightly.

I thought of Alex Kane’s beautiful baby, whose photos he often posts on twitter, which always unite the mob in a moment of joy. And my heart felt sore.

Then a vanguard of women entered the fray. Fionola Meredith more or less agreed with the men. Bronagh Hinds, Goretti Horgan and Clare Rice disagreed. They reminded us how much Northern Ireland has already changed. Often catalysed by people who find themselves at the margins. Tina Calder and Susan McKay spoke about Lyra’s life, about how she was the embodiment of freedom in a new Northern Ireland. You can’t say it’s impossible, they held, because she – and we – exist. Existed. Exist. (The past tense still hasn’t sunk in – does it ever?).

Everyone agreed that we have huge potential in Northern Ireland. But, as Alex pointed out, it will only be realised if we do something different. And keep doing it, over and over. Hope has to be deliberately chosen.

A few weeks ago, I went for a drink with an old unionist friend. She had seen the Future Ireland series on here, and wanted to tell me why Irish unity would not work. I disagreed, hopefully amicably. She described how working with republicans makes her feel. I listened. I told her about my B Special relatives, who told stories of their violence in the other direction, and asked her how working with some unionists might make nationalists and republicans feel. And so we ploughed these sad little ruts. Getting stuck in the past and on the present.

But every time we got stuck we circled back to our children. Our kids cannot grow up with the same shit as we did, we agreed a hundred thousand times over.

Because this is the perspective that unlocks everything. That softens point and counter-point. That makes our hard politics yield.

It’s something that we heard throughout this week of mourning. Members of an older Troubles generation reflecting on how they did not want to pass this toxic politics on to future humans. Members of the younger generation reacting in horror to Lyra’s murder. This was never supposed to happen to the ceasefire babies.

So should we have hope? Can anything change?

Well, yes, we should, and of course it can.

But only if we look the leopard straight in the eye. And choose to go in the other direction.

Keep certain things to the front of our minds. Politicians, people, whoever cares about this place.

Appreciate the searing truth of the cliché – there is more than unites us than divides us. Take a deep breath and give thanks for Lyra’s brave friends, who showed us how to stand up to the hard-men with grit and heart. Give thanks for Ian Ogle’s family and community, who are showing us the same thing. For the people who have been dissenting from norms for all of these years. Whose furrows we walk in. The shoulders of giants and giantesses. Try to be brave.

Listen to the children of the ceasefire. Note their flexibility on the constitutional question. Read their words. They’re asking will they have homes, will there be jobs, what of the planet, our mental health? This generation will change politics anyway. Why make the rest of us wait?

Please go and vote, and think about your own children, your nieces and nephews, your neighbours and your friends’ kids, while you’re making your choice. I don’t care if you vote for the big parties or small. There are good people in most. Some more than others. Vote in a way that you can look these kids in the eye – whether they are Irish or British or both or gay or straight or brown or white – and know that you have voted for someone with a vision of a better future than this.

Do not spend precious time on this earth othering people. Remove unconscious phrases such as: all nationalists, all unionists, Shinnerbots, neanderthals, all Muslims, all Christians, they do this, they’re always like that. There is no ‘they’; no ‘all the same’. There are only complex humans. We need to erase these from our discourse in real life, and particularly online, and start treating people like we mean it.

Wake up. For God’s sake wake up. To the economic devastation all around us, even if you feel personally comfortable. Wake up to the fact that half of Belfast will be under the sea in our lifetime, and what will we do? That Derry is sinking now, just not under water. Realise that unless we’re trying to get a head start on the future, even on our puny shaky legs, there is indeed no hope.

Give way. Yield. Soften. Not on equality or human dignity. People are not bargaining chips. Grasp the nettle of the outstanding issues. Face the leopard. But surrender preconceptions of who is the enemy. There is no ‘enemy’. Only complex humans who have a different story than you.

I do not want us to just letsgetalong. I want our political leaders to dig down into their marrow and find more courage. To make painful changes to old patterns. Refuse to take no for an answer from anyone with a gun or a sash or any kind of extra-political hierarchy.

We are all tired. Our hearts are all heavy. I am 41. Lyra was 29. My daughter is 8. My friend’s next child is not yet born. There’s hard work to do.

We must not expect to wake up in a different world right away. These are daily lamentations and affirmations.

We do not need any wringing of hands. Hope is a future-facing series of actions. Hope is a choice. Please choose it.

Originally published on Slugger O’Toole on 27th April 2019.

Brexit at a Belfast School Gate

Brexit staggers forward like a whiskey laced fever, and nobody at the school gate says its name.

The mums are stockpiling cans of beans. Not because of apocalypse. But because they expect the price of food to increase. They’re a practical lot.

One friend had no money this week. Off to the food-bank. Straining to make polite conversation while trying, and failing, to hold back tears after pick-up.

Over 30,000 food parcels were given in Northern Ireland last year. Is it a nationalist food bank or a unionist food bank? Asks nobody, ever.

The place where I live, which I love, is angry. I scroll through local Facebook group pages. Videos attacking migrants pop up in my timeline. Thousands of likes. People I don’t expect to, share them. A Muslim friend spends the day weeping.

My youngest’s best friend, who is Polish, is intimidated out of his house. Again. He is five.

We don’t talk about Brexit much at the school gate. But we all exist in its venus flytrap.

***

I know lots of people who voted to Leave. They were fed up with the hamster wheel. Slipping down the ladder instead of climbing up. They are not racist. Although others were. They voted Leave out of despair, but also hope. To save the NHS, to feel some control.

I voted Remain. But inhabited that space in-between. Where the EU is not beloved, but a damn sight better than Britannia alone. Where being from Northern Ireland, and the fragility of our peace, trumped all other concerns. I cringed at the smugness of some Remainers.

But the distance between us all didn’t feel so wide in 2016. I watched my friends disagree well, on the same Facebook pages which now seem so bleak.

We could’ve had a proper debate about Europe, if the Tories hadn’t spaffed their internal feud up against the wall. We could have talked about sovereignty, about jobs, rights and standards, about state-aid and capital, about borders and peace.

But public discourse was threadbare. It was guided by a weird web and dodgy cash. Breath-taking complacency on the the other side. There was never a plan. Only the brief promised pleasure of kicking something over.

***

And in Northern Ireland, we’ll pay the hardest. We already are.

There’s the money of course. The fact that we’re already struggling. But also the politics. Our unresolved conflict. Our borderless border.

We’re using trade as a proxy for emotion. Raging over tariffs to mask our fears of the future. Most of us wondering how we’ll pay the bills.

And in this vacuum, services are receding, politics is circling, bitterness encroaching. 

God knows how, but this chapter of Brexit will of course pass. But its consequences are now embedded in our conflict. It has changed the future of this island.

And at the school gate, we carry on. But we’re not keeping calm. We’re just carrying on. Because there’s never been a time when we’ve had less control.

***

So what do we do?

We zoom out. We expand the frame. We realise, as C. Wright Mills says in The Sociological Imagination, that our private troubles are public issues.

We zoom out and see that we’re are living through seismic historical change. That Brexit is a symptom not a cause.

The tectonic plates of late capitalism are shifting. The climate is breaking downIncome inequality is risingInformation is dematerialising. People are revolting. These are connected.

Northern Ireland is a tiny speck on an endangered planet. Our traditional politics are barely relevant.

The tectonic plates of the Union are shifting. We must recalibrate. Be flexible and practical.

Our neighbours are not the enemy. Not in the houses beside us, nor the borders across.

Migrants are not the enemy. Their taxes pay our pensions.

We realise that our pain, although differently expressed, comes from a common wound.

We focus our ire on unaccountable global capital. Which relentlessly pursues profit over people. We follow the money and ask who stands to gain.

We focus our ire on the British government. Not for their Britishness. But for prioritising party politics over our lives. English nationalism over the regions. For prioritising Ulster nationalism… oh wait, that was last week. For years of brutal economic policies which created the anger that led us to here.

There is an horizon beyond Brexit. But no time for a perfect solution. We must suck up a compromise. Pull off Brexit’s strangling ivy and focus on our people, our climate, our resilience to change.

And – if anyone can bear it – we can do more politics.

We can study up. Engage. We can try eating a flag with a knife and fork, and quickly move on to the other options. We can vote till we boke. Lobby our public representatives, because still, amazingly, this makes a difference. They are not ‘all as bad as each other’. We can act locally, understanding the global. We can look up to those in power to identify the source of our problems, not punch down to those who are struggling. This is where our power as citizens lies. 

We can stand at the school gate and keep being human. Share recipes for canned beans and hope that Deflatine is not rationed. Help each other navigate universal credit, talk to the new people, teach our kids not to hate. On difficult days, we can watch Derry Girls and drink the stockpiled Lidl wine.

We can try to hold this anger lightly – for our mental health. But also deeply – for our political health. And we can channel this anger for all that it’s worth. Not towards each other. But towards the disaster capitalists and the internecine careerists who have walked us merrily up to the brink.

Originally published on Slugger O’Toole on 30th March 2019.

Ards and North Down Declare Climate Emergency

On 27th February 2019, an eerily summery winter evening, Ards and North Down Borough Council passed Northern Ireland’s first Climate Emergency motion. Led by Green Party councillors Rachel Woods and Barry McKee, the motion was agreed without changes in a full meeting of the Council chamber.

This comes not a moment too soon for a region which is set to face major challenges over the next 10-20 years as temperatures, and sea-levels, rise. Parts of the Ards peninsula, along with much of the inner parts of Belfast, are likely to be underwater in our lifetimes. And perhaps a lot sooner than we expect.

A ground-breaking IPCC report in October 2018, amalgamating all the recent scientific research, found that on our current path, global temperatures will rise by 1.5 degrees Celsius by 2040. It gave societies 12 years to take immediate and drastic action to keep temperatures under this level.

But immediate and drastic action is not being taken. Global carbon emissions are rising not falling.

As such, subsequent and cascading climate developments now indicate that the pace of change may be much faster than this, with a rise of 1.5-2 degrees being fairly inevitable – perhaps as soon 2030 – and a rise of up to 4 degrees Celsius more likely by the end of the century.

Even at 2 degrees, life as we know it will be forever changed. These infographics from the New York Times give a flavour of what’s on the way. Or take a whirl around the science at 350.org. If you’re in rude mental health today and would like a more fleshed out version, check out David Wallace Wells‘ work, for example “Time to Panic”. Or Ron Meador on “near-term social collapse due to climate chaos.”

If that seems too abstract, you can enter your postcode in this map to see if you’ll be swimming to work in the near future (the image above is the projection for +2 degrees).

Ards and North Down Borough Council is part of a wave of dozens of councils across the UK, and many more globally, which have recently declared climate emergency.

According to the Climate Emergency Declaration website, as of February 27th, 38 UK councils have made a declaration. Ards and North Down makes 39. The pace of change is fast, with 10 declarations in the past week alone, and more motions on the way.

These declarations are significant because they commit Councils to action. The CACE website points to the nuts and bolts of this. But in short –

Emergency mode or mobilisation is when councils allocate all discretionary funds available to the council to the task of community education, advocacy for action by higher levels governments, mitigation or resilience building and could include funding or undertaking the planning and research needed to implement full state and national emergency mobilisations.”

This is the Ards and North Down Council motion, which gives a pretty good idea of what concrete steps will follow:

That this Council notes the recent IPCC report on the impacts of climate breakdown; agrees that drastic and far-reaching measures must be taken across society to try and mitigate the risks and declares a ‘Climate Emergency’. It requests an urgent report to assess the impact of the activities of Ards and North Down Borough Council on greenhouse gas emissions, exploring what mitigation measures can be put in place and establishes a working group to bring the issues of climate breakdown to the fore in the council structures and actions, local communities and businesses, as well as formulating a climate adaptation plan.

This could well entail taking practical steps to protect air quality, water purity, to address pollution, protect local habitats, increase biodiversity by re-wilding spaces, streamline borough energy use, maybe even consider local renewable energy co-ops, and to generally make future-focussed planning decisions based on realistic climate projections.

Ards and North Down are not alone. Derry City and Strabane District Council have been leading the way on practical climate action for some time. They will host the first ever Green Infrastructure and Climate Change Conference in Northern Ireland this spring (tickets here). With a focus on developing green infrastructure, increasing green spaces, encouraging resilience to climate breakdown – for the sake of people’s health and the local economy.

In Belfast City Council, the Alliance’s Emmet McDonough-Brown’s successful motion at the Strategic Policy and Resources Committee in February 2019 committed to reducing Belfast’s carbon footprint and making climate a priority. People Before Profit reinforced this with a climate emergency statement, which passed through Belfast City council on 5th March 2019.

This is even more important in the context of Northern Ireland, where, as Friends of the Earth highlight “we have the least protected environment in the UK and Ireland. [We have] no independent Environmental Protection Agency. No National Parks. No law to cut climate-changing emissions.” And where “the planning system leans heavily towards new development.”

Of course, local Councils have limited power to tackle climate breakdown, which is a global problem and demands a national, as well as international, response.

This is exactly the route being taken in the Republic of Ireland. Daithí McKay highlights the most important pieces of Dáil legislation as Bríd Smith’s Climate Emergency Bill, which would commit Ireland to leaving fossil fuels in the ground; Sinn Féin’s Microgeneration Support Scheme Bill, which would enable local communities – households, farmers, co-ops – to produce their own energy and sell it back to the grid; and the Green Party’s Waste Reduction Bill. All are moving slowly and painfully forward with much prevarication from the Irish government. Although upcoming EU fines, for failing to meet climate targets, may force the government into action.

What is also significant, is increasing public understanding and concern about climate breakdown. It’s hard to avoid. There have been winter gorse fires this week in the Dublin mountains. Even Winnie the Pooh’s Hundred Acre Wood in Sussex was ravaged by fires this month. The fact that we’ve wiped out 60% of the world’s animal populations since 1970 and reports about collapsing insect populations, globally and across Ireland, are making their way into public consciousness. Ordinary people are talking about why there are no dead insects splattered on their windscreens anymore.

There’s a gnawing sense that paper straws and keep-cups aren’t going to cut it. That we’re on the cusp of something exponential.

This is reflected on the ground with school kids across Ireland and the UK joining their European counterparts, striking for climate justice, the civil disobedience of Extinction Rebellion, increasing calls for a Green New Deal

Even more locally, we see residents of the Sperrins opposing industrial mineral mining; community protests which have stalled a planned industrial pig factory in Ballyclare; Newry, Mourne and Down District Council and others passing a motion opposing the dumping of UK nuclear waste in the Mournes (a similar motion was opposed by the DUP and fell in Armagh City, Banbridge and Craigavon Borough Council this week, but that’s another story); Green Party activists in Belfast measuring air pollution as it emerges that our air quality is almost as bad as London.

Across these islands and beyond there is a growing awareness that something has snapped, and that standing still is not an option.

On the same day as the motion was passed, MPs in the House of Commons debated climate breakdown for the first time in 2 years. This is better than nothing. But it was a quick and thinly attended debate, with no accompanying teeth. It is clear that Westminster is in no hurry to recognise the state of Climate Emergency that Caroline Lucas is calling for. Or indeed to do anything about it.

Local Councils are too small to solve global problems. We have top level calls to action from the UN and EU, and ground level calls to action from citizens. But, on these islands, we have a gaping space in between, where national action should be.

Given the heel dragging from both UK and Irish governments, perhaps Councils are one of the most effective political levers we currently have to begin the immediate practical work of climate action and regeneration.

Adapted from an article originally published on Slugger O’Toole on 28th February 2019.

The Dog Show

Everything has felt so heavy recently. Between the UN’s report on accelerated climate breakdown, their report on how the UK is actively choosing poverty, and ongoing Brexit insanity, it’s all quite overwhelming.

So here is something with jokes. It’s a story, told live at Tenx9, about the time I tried to pimp out my dog for money. It involves my partner and I disgracing ourselves at a dog show at the Avoniel Leisure centre…

It contains one of my favourite lines I’ve ever written:

“We had entered the Big Lebowski as a contestant in the Rose of Tralee.”

Which might give you an idea of how things went down.

http://www.tenx9.com/podcast/038-regret/2018/6/8