It’s eight years since I last flew in a plane; probably four years since I decided I won’t fly again, for a variety of reasons; and about three months since I decided I really definitely won’t fly again.
People sometimes ask if I think I’m missing out. Sure, it would be lovely to think that Tuscany is no more difficult to get to than Reading. It would be very convenient to know that I’ll be able to attend my friends’ destination weddings, and very good indeed for my CV to attend international conferences. It would be great to think that I could be in New York by the weekend, eating bagels and being told to “get outta the freakin’ way, lady”. Folks who fly, what a life you lead! It’s all jolly fun to think about, but it was the summer heatwaves that really clinched it for me. I knew that I couldn’t, with a clear conscience, sit in those worryingly record-smashing temperatures and think that I was about to tear through the sky to a holiday destination using the very same means of transport that has (partly) got us into this climate mess in the first place. There are some arguments in favour of flying that I get, sure. There are also many arguments in favour of just doing whatever you darn well please and hang the consequences, so, fair enough. Nobody is saying you HAVE to care about the environment, your emissions. Live and let fly. But when we’re all becoming a little more climate conscious, choosing plant-based milks and turning down thermostats, jetting off on three long-haul flights a year doesn’t sit right. (Especially because although “being vegan can save around 1.5 tonnes CO2 per year, you could use that up in a single flight.”) Someone, when they told me their extensive summer travel plans in the same breath as saying how poignant a new Attenborough documentary was, once said something along these lines to me — “The way I see it, the plane is going anyway whether I’m on it or not — so I may as well be on it. We need big-scale action to stop climate change. I’m not helping the climate by staying home, haha!” I feel like the concept of individual action is really lost on people who say this. Shall I, then, stop recycling, and turn my kitchen into a swimming pool the next time there’s a hosepipe ban? Should I also eat swans and sit on a throne of unsustainably-mined gold and blood diamonds? I would LOVE to know how people who say this behaved during the Covid lockdowns. Presumably they just went around sneezing on everyone, since “the virus is going to spread anyway and we need bigger-scale action to stop it, so”? No, fair enough, I myself am not making any impact on emissions at all by refusing to fly. Planes are taking off all the time, lots of them, all chugging out these huge amounts of CO2, and it wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference if I hopped on one or not. But it’s simply not a contribution I’m happy to make, in the same way that I buy free-range eggs or say thank you to harried-looking bus drivers. I might not be making a huge positive impact, but is that an excuse for piling on when the rest of the world is making a negative one? And nor is it a huge sacrifice to me — I’m really not martyring myself to any cause, here. Maybe not flying has shrunk my horizons a bit, but honestly, I’d be happy enough just bundling a few cases into the car, filling a bag with my Ultimate Travel Snacks (those M&S cake tubs, if you were wondering — the chocolate roll ones and the mini flapjacks) and seeing where I get. And I certainly don’t need to go away for the sun — I’m only in Oxford and just a few weeks ago I needed to lie down in front of the fan after going to get the post. And before anyone says I wouldn’t drive if I really cared about the climate and should instead travel by carbon-neutral yacht or walk everywhere with magic shoes that suck pollution out of the atmosphere, hold on — A return flight from London to San Francisco emits around 5.5 tonnes of CO2 equivalent (CO2e) per person – more than twice the emissions produced by a family car in a year. Even a return flight from London to Berlin emits around 0.6 tonnes CO2e – three times the emissions saved from a year of recycling. So if I went without a car for two years and recycled religiously for three, that would be more than cancelled out by just a couple of flights. This isn’t meant to be preachy because I think the only thing worse than being preached at is knowing that you’re the one doing the preaching. It’s just that I think there’s so much joy to be had on our own doorstep. Rediscover the childish joy of the British seaside holiday and eat doughnuts on a windy pier. Get your chest a bit sunburnt and go for dinner in a country pub, wearing a floaty dress and smelling of aftersun and salt. Soak up the views. Have you SEEN the North Devon coastline?! Go to Bath, and blow all the money that would have gone on a flight in the famous Mrs Pott’s Chocolate Shop. Get up to Scotland, go right up to the highest point around and look at that view; one of those views that’s so huge you can’t take it all in at once. Hell, pick a random tiny place on Google maps, somewhere with a B&B and a Londis and almost nothing else, and make the best possible holiday out of it you can — buy rosé and drink it in a field at sunset. And this is where, I hope, you’ll allow me a tiny bit of preaching. Gently let go of the notion that just because somewhere is on this same little island as you, it’s boring and familiar. Please don’t fall into the trap of thinking that whole of Britain is as mundane and familiar as your own backyard. There’s a whole wide world out there — but a very beautiful proportion of it is just a train ride away.
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(Header Photo: Radcliffe Camera, Oxford - Isabel Parkinson 2016)
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