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Posts Tagged ‘transition’

Open House – An Old Home Fit For The Future

Wednesday, September 22nd, 2010

In a time of soaring fuel bills and carbon emissions “retrofitting” our homes can reduce both by more than 60%. Ozzie and Mary ffield invite you to visit their newly retrofitted Victorian Bath home to discover:

 - What you can do to make your home energy efficient

 - Why retrofitting is a good financial investment

 - How to save money on fuel bills

 - Who can help you find out more

 - How to find the right products and services

Aspects on show include three forms of insulation in an 110 year old solid wall house – of a type common to Bath and Bristol – changes in gas fire heating, changes in boiler and tank, installation of solar thermal, underfloor heating, controls and zoning, airflow control, double and triple glazing, and passive solar heating.

Drop in to see for yourself on their OPEN HOUSE days in September:

Friday 24th: 3pm – 7pm
Saturday 25th: 11am – 6pm
Sunday 26th: 11am – 6pm

at 16 Pulteney Gardens, Widcombe, Bath, BA2 4HG – See them on Google Maps!

Download their flyer: Open House – An Old Home Fit For The Future

Energy Descent Action Plans for cities: some thoughts…

Thursday, May 20th, 2010

Transition Nottingham contacted Rob Hopkins (Co-founder of Transition Network) to ask him for help with their EDAP.  We found Rob’s response very interesting and knowng that some of our readers are involved with Transition we thought you would like to see this too:

What is an EDAP and why would anyone do one?  ‘Create an Energy Descent Action Plan’ is the 12th of Transition’s 12 Steps, intended as the culmination of the preceding eleven.  The idea is that it is one of the key things that distinguishes Transition from other approaches, that rather than being a disparate assembly of projects, Transition pulls together a range of initiatives and puts them in the wider strategic context of intentionally planning for the relocalisation of the settlement as a whole.  An EDAP is, in essence, a Plan B for the community, a mapping out of how the community might get from here to there.  The reality is though, that although the first thorough EDAP (for Totnes) has just been published, still none of us know, in practical terms, what planning for the intentional powering down and relocalisation of a city will look like in practice.

How might a Transition group know when it is ready to undertake such a project?  It is hard to come up with hard and fast quantifiable criteria such as “when over 10% of people in the community have attended a Transition event” (the Totnes survey showed about 25%), “when over 50%, when surveyed state that the work your Transition initiative is doing is relevant to their lives” (in Totnes it was 61%), or “when over 50% have heard of your initiative” (in Totnes it was 75%).  These criteria would be different for every settlement, although clearly some significant degree of community buy-in and support will be vital.  Undertaking an EDAP does, however, require certain foundations to be in place, including;

  • a dedicated group of people for whom creating an EDAP is what fires their passion, is the thing they most want to bring about for the Transition initiative
  • good links with as many other organisations in the community as possible (i.e. the local council, schools, other environmental groups, community groups and so on), so the plan can represent their views as much as possible, and get them engaged in its creation
  • some dedicated resource for the project, it is an impossible project to pull of with no budget whatsoever (you’ll need to run events, hire rooms and halls, produce materials and so on…)
  • strong Transition working groups who can drive forward, collaboratively, their parts of the Plan
  • a good level of awareness raising to have been done, so that an EDAP process isn’t constantly having to start from square one every time
  • space in the Transition initiative’s programme of events for EDAP to become a theme that runs through it
  • good web facilities to enable discussion of ideas, collaborative editing of drafts, promotion of events.

Creating the Totnes EDAP, an Energy Descent Plan covering a settlement of 8,500 people and its surrounding catchment of around 23,000 people was a big undertaking.  It required around 2o months of time, a full time paid co-ordinator, additional funding for design and printing, and the voluntary efforts of many people.  I think that what we have produced is an unprecedented piece of work, something with much that can be replicated in other settlements of a similar size (we learnt a lot doing that will be of use to other communities).  A good example of a mini-EDAP, or what was termed a ‘pre-DAP’, can be seen in Transition Forest Row’s ‘Forest Row in Transition’ document, done in a short period of time as a vision document.  I am less confident, however, that the EDAP model, as currently imagined, transfers across intact as an approach,  to, say, Bristol or Leeds, and here are some thoughts as to why.

1. Can Community-led plans ever be comprehensive?

Can communities be expected to cover all the bases that such a plan would require?  One of the things I have done in the PhD I am doing (nearing completion) is to take the Resilience Indicators developed in the Totnes EDAP and drop them into a table generated by Liz Cox at New Economics Foundation of indicators for a sustainable economy.  What emerges is that Resilience Indicators generated by a community (well, Totnes at least) tend to fall within the columns that relate to economics, local resilient infrastructure and so on, and not in governance, social enterprise and interdependence (seeing the wider picture) – these things fall, at least in the case of Totnes, outside of a community’s interests/expertise, yet they are essential to an effective and comprehensive response.

They are areas that are usually the domain of Council planners, enterprise agencies, businesses and so on.  The Totnes EDAP is the community’s plan, reflective of the passions and interests of those that get involved in the process, but how it now intertwines with Council policy remains to be seen, that will be the focus of TTT’s work over the next few months. Might it be that for cities, effective and comprehensive plans of this nature will require the Transition initiative to work together with its local Council, and with other organisations with some of the other expertise lacking within the Transition group?

2. Do cities and towns develop differently?

A few months ago I sat at Birmingham New Street Station with Andy Goldring of the Permaculture Association, discussing this whole question of what EDAP might look in the urban context.  A town like Totnes, every few years, goes through a planning process, where it looks forward over the next 10 years, and plans how it might develop…

Get the rest and join the conversation.

*Courtesy of Transition Culture.

Please help us to get Local Food on the agenda

Monday, January 18th, 2010

Apart from running The Barn Vegan Guest I am also co-chair of the New Forest Transition group.  Currently I am managing a year long project promoting local food – The New Forest Food Challenge. 

We have a ning social network site for the project and it’s been selected as a Finalist for the Hantsweb Awards locally.  There’s an award for the site best liked by the public and it would be wonderful if we could win – it would help to get both local food and Transition on the agenda.  It only takes a second to vote and if the EJ network could get behind us I am sure we’ll be in with a shot.

You can also join the Food Challenge – you don’t have to live in the New Forest!  Visit the site

To vote just click here or follow the link on the home page of the site.

Many thanks – Richard Barnett

The Barn Vegan Guest House is an active member of Ethical Junction, learn more

A Personal Report from Ben Brangwyn at COP15

Thursday, December 17th, 2009

This report comes from Ben Brangwyn of Transition Network, who is out in Copenhagen flying the Transition flag while avoiding getting teargassed.

I’m finding that Copenhagen has a very intense and charged atmosphere, and largely positively so. Transition Network and the transition ideas have a good visibility over here, with involvement in at least 7 workshops and a steady stream (and occasional tsunami) of people from all over the world to our stand in the Expo area, interviews with several of the excellent broadcasting outfits (PositiveTV and ClimateTV) and a screening of “In Transition 1.0″ in the main hall at KlimaForum.

It may be worth giving a quick explanation of how the whole Copenhagen circus is organised, because it’s not always been that clear. The highest profile event is the official COP15 negotiations in the Bella Centre, a lifeless concrete block towards the outskirts of Copenhagen surrounded by security, housing both official delegations from all the countries that could afford to come, representatives of NGOs, pressure groups and lobbyists – this is where the legally binding agreement will be hammered out, or not. Parallel to this is the KlimaForum09, held principally in a huge sports and events centre in the middle of Copenhagen, with an overwhelmingly colourful programme of workshops, forums, screenings, meetings, exhibits and debates. It feels to me like a cauldron of creativity and hope, with an edge of despair and desperation.

The most bizarre and incongruent aspect of KlimaForum09 is apparent only when you travel from one side of the building to the other. The route takes you through a glass walkway where your gaze is drawn down towards the totally unexpected scene of palm trees, a labrynth of blue water pools, multi-coloured buoyancy aids and several hundred adults and kids happily splashing around in a high energy, high carbon, totally unsustainable microclimate, apparently blissfully unaware of what’s going on around them. It’s a paradox that must leave the people from the vulnerable countries reeling.

And “reeling” would be an apt description of how I felt after two of the most intense conversations I’ve had here. The first was with a Ghanian man at our Expo stand. He was hoarse from having regailed a hall of activists with accounts of what it’s like to be suffering at the front line of climate change. The overconsuming west has discovered and stolen their diamonds, gold, valuable metals and minerals and Ghana is still crushingly poor. To top that, he tells me that they’ve now discovered oil, and will be taxing its extraction by the oil companies at 10% (Norway taxes it at 70%). The facts themselves don’t bring the reality of the picture to life, but when he tells me how a mining outfit found gold in a nearby village and “had to” level the local school to make way for the extraction infrastructure and “repaid” the community by building a school for them 25 miles away, the picture starts getting a lot clearer. And if that wasn’t enough, now the west has effectively stolen their liveable climate. For me, witnessing this man and is non-accusing demeanour, as I quietly add up my lifetime’s contribution in flights, furniture, food, fuel and steel consumption that looks like it might just have sealed the fate of children who will die of hunger and inadequate sanitation, this is a crushingly shameful experience.

Having barely recovered from that, I’m then approached by two Nigerian men who, beneath their genuine demeanour of cooperation and friendliness, have an anger and frustration that’s barely hidden. As they explain how C02 pollution is just another in a series of devastating acts of pollution that brought by the extreme consumptive patterns of “developed” countries, the list only comes to life when they give an account of the daily search for safe drinking water in the Delta region (an area highlighted in Age of Stupid). You can’t take it safely from the wells because of pollution and the drops in the water table. You can’t take it safely from the rivers because they’re polluted. You can’t take it from the sea because it’s saline and desalination is so energy intensive. And you can’t take it from the sky, because the gas flaring pollutes the skies.

I hope desperately that the depth of accountability that I personally feel for all of this, that the work I and my colleagues devote ourselves to, that the determination we bring to transitioning out of these ways of living that are crushing humans and biodiversity so comprehensively are somehow evident to them. I can’t tell though. I can’t see a damn thing through the tears of shame that are welling uncontrollably.
And why would I want to control them? If we don’t let that shame well up, if we don’t acknowledge the message it tells us about being out if integrity with deeply held beliefs, if we don’t let it energise our actions and determination, if instead we just swallow it, then we’re doing ourselves, our sense of humanity and our fellow beings on this planet a deep disservice.

Transition’s objectives of having a positive impact on social justice is implicit, rather than explicit, and I understand why some people don’t see it straightaway – hell, sometimes it feels hidden even to me. It’s a familiar pattern – I witness and feel another being’s pain at our unthinkingly consumptive patterns of behaviour, I start to beat myself up about not doing more, and then eventually apply some intellectual recognition of the benefits an ubiquitous fabric of transitioned communities will bring to these all-too-familiar horror stories. And at that point am I heartened by the work we’re doing, filled with the faint hope that our heartfelt intentions will have the effect we transitioners dream of.

And it seems right now that here in Copenhagen, more than anywhere, one of the key assertions underpinning Transition is more appropriate and potent than ever – if we wait for the politicians, it’ll be too little too late; if we do it as individuals – it’ll be too little; but if we do as communities, it might just be enough, just in time.

——————————————————————
Over, but not out.
Ben.

Source: Transition Culture

Transitional demands, by Sarah Irving

Wednesday, December 16th, 2009

From modest beginnings as a permaculture class project at a college in Kinsale, Ireland, the Transition movement has spread its message of community resilience and low-carbon living around the world. The first ‘transition town’ in Totnes, Devon, established by permaculture tutor Rob Hopkins in 2005, now has counterparts as far afield as New Zealand, Japan, Canada and Finland.

According to the ‘official’ Transition website (www.transitiontowns.org) ‘a transition initiative is a community working together to look peak oil and climate change squarely in the eye and address this big question: for all those aspects of life that this community needs in order to sustain itself and thrive, how do we significantly increase resilience (to mitigate the effects of peak oil) and drastically reduce carbon emissions (to mitigate the effects of climate change)?’

Twelve steps guide transition initiatives through a process designed to end in a clear vision, based on practical, demonstrable experiences, of how a community will implement an ‘energy descent plan’ to survive the threats of climate change and exist without the accustomed abundance of fossil fuels to heat our homes, move us around, light our streets and cook our food. As Ben Brangwyn, one of the Transition Network’s trustees, puts it, ‘If we wait for governments, it’ll be too late; if we act as individuals, it’ll be too little; but if we act as communities, maybe it’ll be enough.’

Four years later, Transition Town Totnes activities include nut tree planting for locally-produced protein, garden-sharing to grow food on underused land, and a business exchange which, says Ben Brangwyn, works on the basis that ‘one business’s waste is another’s raw materials.’ According to Brangwyn, around 5 per cent of Totnes’s 8,500 inhabitants are actively involved in the transition town and around 12-15 per cent are signed up to its mailing list.

Unusually for an environmental campaign, Transition Towns sees older people as vital to finding sustainable ways to live. It highlights the experience of those who’ve lived through wartime shortages and rationing. A participant at a transition cities discussion in Manchester in October 2009 flagged up invaluable skills – like preserving fruit and vegetables – found among people such as Women’s Institute members.

But even transition devotees admit that scaling up to city level presents new challenges. The early successes – such as Totnes and Lewes – were often fairly small, fairly affluent, very white market towns with existing interests in green issues and ‘alternative’ lifestyles.

One of the best-known critiques is the Rocky Road to a Real Transition pamphlet issued in April 2008 by the Trapese popular education collective. It asked whether Transition is ‘about political change’ and questioned the extent to which it engages with marginalised people and challenges established power structures. Other campaigners have highlighted the fact that middleclass consumption, such as multiple cars, overseas holidays and large houses, often has a much bigger carbon footprint than that of low-income families. The extent to which Transition could bring about real change, Trapese also suggested, was limited by vested political and corporate interests, which it seems to try to work around rather than confront.

In a July 2009 reprint of Rocky Road, Trapese acknowledged the value of the debates that the pamphlet had provoked. The collective noted that in Leeds and Glasgow, transition city plans emphasised the need for a ‘just transition’, recognising the specific dilemmas of post-industrial cities. Transition spokespeople stress that the movement is very much a ‘work in progress’, and the network’s website repeats that no one claims to know that Transition is the right way forward.

Transition in the City

Around Britain, transition initiatives – some of them signed up to the ‘official’ list and some still ‘thinking about it’ – exist in Manchester, Glasgow, Liverpool, Sheffield, Cardiff, Nottingham, Bristol, Edinburgh and in areas of London including Brixton, Tooting and Finsbury Park.

As Ben Brangwyn stresses, climate change isn’t just an ‘environmental issue’ but will spark ‘a refugee crisis’ that will put pressure on our cities and their social fabric. Craig Barnett of Transition Sheffield has done groundbreaking work with the City of Sanctuary project, thinking about ways to integrate environmental asylum seekers into Britain’s urban life. And other Transition City initiatives, such as Montpelier in Bristol, have tried to tackle everyday ‘urban’ problems, debating drug use and removing phone boxes where they’ve become a focus for vandalism and drug deals.

But with its roots in white, middle-class environmentalism, Transition has its work cut out to be truly relevant in our inner cities. Ben Brangwyn insists that efforts have been made, with meetings held in mosques and community centres, but admits that the network has had trouble ‘getting to grips with this properly’ and that initiatives need to forge diverse partnerships to make a real impact. A core group member from one city also pointed out that if Transition doesn’t get beyond the ‘usual suspects’ of the environmental community, then it’s likely to be drawing on already over-committed people who either have very limited time to give, or who have to abandon other projects to take up Transition.

‘If we wait for governments, it’ll be too late; if we act as individuals, it’ll be too little; but if we act as communities, maybe it’ll be enough’

Penny Skerret of Transition City Manchester is similarly honest, admitting that ‘from my experience, Transition is still a white, middle-class movement.’ She acknowledges that, especially in cities, Transition groups can be dominated by well-meaning people from affluent, ‘alternative’ suburbs who talk about community, but have no understanding of the strength, cohesiveness and depth of knowledge that may exist in inner city ‘no-go’ areas close by.

‘I visited a school in Miles Platting, a very marginalised area of Manchester, where an artist is making a garden in the school playground,’ describes Skerrett. ‘One of the things that’s emerged there is that there are lots of people who are asylum seekers and refugees from parts of the world where climate change is happening now, who have experience of extreme weather and famine. Their stories create real meaning for the children in the school about what climate change is. That’s a really important way of making connections between Manchester and what’s happening on the news.’

Do it yourself

Anyone can set up a transition initiative in their neighbourhood, town or city. In some cities, such as Manchester, a core group has formed and worked quietly on building itself up before interacting with other groups or holding public meetings. Other cities, like Liverpool, have tried to overcome their fear of being a ‘talking shop’ by adopting a more open approach, starting projects such as community allotments at an early stage.

Initiatives are asked to contact the central Transition Network Ltd (TNL) at the ‘mulling’ stage. TNL is itself a charity, set up to ‘inspire, encourage, network, support and train’. To call themselves an ‘official transition town’ as listed on the network website, initiatives must fulfill criteria ranging from demonstrating understanding of peak oil and climate change, to communicating with other transition bodies and local authorities and organisations, to training members of the core team.

Individual transition initiatives take various forms. In smaller towns, a single core group with themed sub-groups dealing with issues such as food, energy or transport can work. But transition cities have struggled with this model, finding the city too large a unit to maintain regular meetings or a sense of united community.

Transition Nottingham and Bristol have successfully used a central ‘hub’ to provide co-ordination, training and publicity and work on city-wide problems such as transport, while smaller groups in neighbourhoods such as Montpelier in Bristol or West Bridgford in Nottingham deal with local issues.

Another challenge of which participants at the Manchester event in October 2009 seemed aware was the danger of Transition being seen as a brand seeking to stamp itself on existing sustainability initiatives and trying to colonise other groups’ work.

As Manchester’s Penny Skerrett puts it, ‘I always go back to permaculture, in that biodiversity is the most important thing. In somewhere like Manchester the more groups there are across the city, the more healthy the city will be. So the idea of Transition coming in and trying to turn that into some kind of monoculture is just not going to work. There’s no reason for it and it will get people’s backs up.’

Supping with the devil?

One of Rob Hopkins’ ‘12 steps to Transition’ is ‘building a bridge to local government’. Environmental initiatives across the UK have an uneven history of relationships with local and national government, peppered with betrayal and mistrust.

At Manchester’s Transition in the City discussion, attitudes varied between wary optimism from some Mancunians, given (Labour) Manchester City Council’s willingness to listen during the climate change action plan process (see box on opposite page), and the despair of Liverpool activists at their (Liberal Democrat) council’s announcement that it was spending £300,000 taking Liverpool to the Shanghai World Expo but sending no one to the climate summit in Copenhagen.

Transition towns vary in their relationship to the local state. One woman involved in a transition initiative in the north of England seethed as she described ‘wasting ten years of her life working with New Deal for Communities’.

But Caroline Downey, director of the Bridge 5 Mill environment and community centre in a marginalised area of Manchester, pointed out that much of the renovation done there in the late 1990s was carried out by New Deal trainees. While the founders had been sceptical about government unemployment schemes, New Deal had given the fledgling centre a paid workforce and provided the trainees with a more rewarding and varied training experience than they might have found at more conventional employers. 

‘Sometimes it is possible, if you’re careful, to use government and local authority agendas to your advantage,’ says Downey.

The diversity of transition initiatives means that there is no hard and fast rule for relationships with local government. Some have good personal connections or positive local authorities. Others, such as Brighton and Bristol, towns with existing, highlyvocal campaigning communities, have a reputation for more oppositional relations. Yet even Bristol Transition neighbourhoods have helped to win public funding for specific projects, such as work on Montpelier Park.

‘The issue is how close your relationship is,’ said a transition activist from the south west of England. ‘It’s great to get one-off funding, but it gets dangerous if you have core funding from councils. That can taste too much like co-option or dependency.’

The transition initiative in Lewes, along with those in Totnes and London’s Brixton, has launched its own currency to encourage local economies to thrive.

True transition?

There’s no doubt that the Transition model addresses some of the long-running criticisms of environmental movements, combining awareness about the wider fate of the planet with a focus on the human impacts of climate change and peak oil. This is not landscape conservation – it’s a basic survival agenda.

Despite its more holistic ideas, the question is whether the Transition movement has the ability to rise to the massive challenge it sets itself. And the jury must still be out on this. Transition’s rhetoric – of community, self-sufficiency, relevance to the elderly and to minorities as well as the white, middle-class ‘concerned’ – is spot on. But to be genuinely inclusive, many of the people who currently run transition initiatives need to take long, hard and possibly uncomfortable looks at how they work and how that might need changing. Transition’s decentralised model makes it open to any community, but it also means that anyone – however (un)qualified and (un)committed – can claim their local transition town title.

On a wider scale, Transition is also open to the criticisms levelled against ethical consumerism, green living and other ‘lifestyle’ movements. By concentrating on the level of individual change, they don’t necessarily address the bigger structural challenges of political expediency, corporate power and economic inequality, which may let small-scale agendas effect change so far, but no further.

In practice, most ‘transitioners’ are individually aware of the need to lobby, campaign or take direct action alongside their personal or community efforts, and they may promote these alongside transition activities. On the other hand, Transition’s relentless positivity, working with the things people have in common rather than on a more oppositional stage, may count it out of very necessary struggles.

At the moment, the Transition model holds immense promise for environmental and social change. But it remains to be seen whether its adherents have the strength to take it from a minority lifestyle choice to the much bigger force for democratic grassroots change that it could be.

Published Dec 15 2009 by Red Pepper


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