6 September 2004
Balancing the climatological books
Popular science is a wonderful thing. If we had enjoyed a long, dry, hot summer, there are no prizes for guessing how many articles we would have seen in the papers claiming it as proof of human-induced global warming, and warning us we had better start putting lids on saucepans quick.
But we had a very wet summer. What did this show? Surprisingly, it was proof of global warming again. And all the usual knee-jerk suspects rolled out the familiar doomsday scenarios. I have nothing against doomsday scenarios: I suspect that that there will be a major natural catastrophe, probably volcanic, within the next few years, because one is overdue. And the climate is undoubtedly changing. It always does.
But to suggest that we can affect this by making tiny, prescribed alterations to our lifestyles is like suggesting that we can affect the orbit of Venus by wearing dark glasses.
What is the evidence this time? There was a disastrous flood in Boscastle. We can expect many more like this, say the doomsday boys. But Boscastle, though tragic, fades if compared with the similar Devon flood at Lynmouth in August 1952, when 34 people died and 93 buildings were destroyed – or damaged so badly that they had to be demolished.
This was followed by the calamitous North Sea floods of January 1953, but no-one spoke of global warming then: I seem to remember that a new ice age was the doomsday boys’ prediction around that time.
What about the landslide in Scotland? Experts warned that we could expect many more of these – another worrying new phenomenon. But what was found when geologists investigated the landslide area? “Evidence of lots of old landslides.” So no change there. We simply have very short memories.
Does our soggy summer have any significance? Or will it be next year’s sizzling season that spills the climatological beans? In 1875 the Worstead Parish Chronicle reveals (and you don’t get this kind of research just anywhere): “The total rainfall of July in our parish has exceeded eight inches; and on the 20th and 21st days fell the enormous quantity of nearly four inches and a half. When it is borne in mind that an inch of rain represents the quantity of 80 tons of water to each acre, and that two inches a month form the average rainfall in this part of England, we shall be able to realise the immensity of the recent downpour.”
August 1875 dawned glorious and sunny. August is often dry: the two driest Augusts on record were 1742 and 1747, presumably caused by too may lidless saucepans in the late 1600s.
All this is part of the fascinating diversity we enjoy in this country, and from which some of us sometimes suffer. Rather than simply use every opportunity to cook up what is a thinly disguised political message, we should accept that, in the words of weather expert Philip Eden, it is “just another example of Mother Nature balancing the books”. Newt scheme to keep people quietly desperate
A Norfolk campaigner has uncovered a far-reaching plot to confine as many people as possible to their homes.
Henry (Fred) “Shrimp” Houseago, 105, who was instrumental in preventing great-crested newts from taking over Wymondham some years ago, believes that the “endangered” amphibians have resurfaced with a fresh attempt to destroy the quality of human life.
“It’s incredibly subtle,” he said at Erpingham yesterday. “They have infiltrated so many organisations that no-one suspects it’s co-ordinated.
“They want services to be so bad that no-one will dare venture out into the world. And then of course they can take over completely.”
Mr Houseago pointed out that toilets were being closed all over Norfolk, as were public phone boxes. “They want us to be desperate and unable to tell anyone,” he said.
At the same time post offices were being shut, and the few that remained open were being swamped and used as police stations. Bus routes were being discontinued, but car journeys were being made as difficult as possible, and any sensible attempt to improve the situation – such as the northern distributor road for Norwich – was being sabotaged by a group of newt-influenced extremists. “It’s quite clear that they want everyone to stay at home and watch Big Brother,” said Mr Houseago. “Why do you think they want to introduce postal votes?”
A newt was unavailable for comment.
Song thrushes live in confusing times
If we have problems knowing who to rely on when it comes to climate, surely birds are more straightforward. After all, you can actually count birds, if they sit still long enough.
Unfortunately they seem to have been moving about. Which would explain why I read that the song thrush was on the “red list” and declining dangerously – and at the same time showing signs of recovery and “increasing”, all on the same day. On the same page, in fact.
Confusing for me, but even more confusing for the song thrushes. I shall keep a close eye on the ones in my garden.
Tourist attraction gathers dust
Congratulations are clearly due to whoever had the brilliant idea of creating a new Norwich summer tourist attraction in front of the Forum by digging up the Millennium Plain and making lots of dust. Almost no-one was using the space anyway, and the last thing we want visitors to our fine city to have is a clear view of the Forum. They must enjoy the challenge of the construction maze, looking for the entrance to a ₤65 million building which in its naked state has a much too striking frontage.
And of course the Plain was getting very old and tatty. I can’t remember whether it was medieval or Victorian. Certainly about time it was replaced. Who wants open space anyway?
Let’s make it an annual event! We could get rid of that church building next. It’s a bit in the way.