Journal

Golden pheasant 1 Golden pheasant 2

I have no idea what the Chinese are dubbing 2010, in terms of animal symbolism, but for me it begins as the Year of the Golden Pheasant. As Elaine and I walked around Kew Gardens today, in glorious afternoon sunshine, a golden pheasant walked straight across to us, bold as brass, and looked us in the eye. Unbelievably beautiful.

Recent days have been restful, though yesterday we went to the EARTH Exhibition at the Royal Academy. Some 10-12 years ago, I began to develop an exhibition of environmental campaign posters, many of the posters still stacked upstairs, and I devised the logo EARTH, which has now popped up for this exhibition. Scratch that idea.

A few other photographs from recent days follow:

Richmond Park skyline Anish Kapoor shows balls at Royal Academy My shadow and I in Kew Gardens Coot chase Green Man bench Fountain

Julia Hailes sent me a link this morning to the CSR International survey of leaders in the field of corporate social responsibility, in which I appear in fourth place tied with Muhammad Yunus, and behind Al Gore, Barack Obama and Anita Roddick. If I learned anything from statistics courses 40 years back, it was how easy it is to use them to provide a distorted lens on the world – but it’s a wonderful start to the New Year to find that, at least in 2009, I was in such august company.

Democracy is at the heart of the new agenda of the Foundation for Democracy and Sustainable Development (FDSD), which I chair, previously The Environment Foundation. In this context, a reflection by Niall Ferguson in today’s Financial Times on the meaning of the past decade struck me as particularly apt and insightful. He explores the reasons behind the astonishing – and accelerating – shift to the east in the world’s economic (and, ultimately, political) centre of gravity. In the process, he asks what it was that gave the West its “ascendancy”, through the Renaissance, the Reformation, the Enlightenment and the ensuing race around the world, as far as the Antipodes?

His answer is that the West benefited from six “killer apps”. These were: “the capitalist enterprise, the scientific method, a legal and political system based on private property rights and individual freedom, traditional imperialism, the consumer society and what Weber probably misnamed the ‘Protestant’ ethic of work and capital accumulation as ends in themselves.”

Some of these, Ferguson argues, particularly numbers one and two, China has already replicated. Other, and among these he includes imperialism, consumption and the work ethic, it is making headway on. “Only number three,” he notes, “the Western way of law and politics – shows little sign of emerging in the one-party state that is the People’s Republic.” But, he muses, “does China need dear old democracy to achieve enduring prosperity?”

Those two words, enduring and prosperity, put the question slap-bang into the heartland of the territory that the FDSD team is beginning to map out. As we wrestle with the question of how to shift paradigms in ways that we want, we also have to be aware that paradigms often shift under their own steam. As we reflect on future pathways to scale for solutions we find exciting, the ways in which those solutions will play out will be powerfully influenced by paradigmatic and civilisational trends of the sort discussed here.

Read Niall Ferguson’s fascinating article and ponder our collective future trajectories – as I did. Then join us at the Foundation for Democracy and Sustainable Development, in 2010 and beyond, in the quest to find out how to marry the best of West and East in pursuit of sustainability.

Wreath 1 Path by stream Bridge on which a memorable battle was fought Church Shadow 1 Gravestones 1 Shadow 2 Church 2 Gravestones 2 Cuckoo Pen Hill House wreath

We drove down to Little Rissington this morning, early, with very little traffic on the road – for Christmas Day at Hill House. The countryside beyond Oxford was still white with snow and illuminated by a low sun in the most spectacular way. Elaine and I took a walk up to St Peter’s Church before lunch, passing the tiny bridge across which almost 50 years ago a legendary battle was fought out – between one of our young friends with a branch and one of the Misses Le Marchant, whose garden I suspect we had somewhat invaded, who was armed with her walking stick – and who must have been well into her eighties at the time. I think honour was maintained on both sides.

Very aware of the gift of being rooted in this house and this village. Odd mixture of emotions as we headed towards the church, the scene of so many christenings, marriages and funerals in the more-than-50 years we have been in Little Rissington. Particularly sad to walk around the RAF graves, particularly after looking through a number of Tim’s books, including the sixth volume of Robert Taylor’s Air Combat Paintings – which are quite extraordinary. Interesting, too, to read quickly through a new book on No. 1 Squadron, In All Things First, which features both my parents – Tim as No 1 Squadron pilot, Pat as the target of a trio of Focke-Wulf 190 fighter-bombers in 1943.

Last night, I had watched The Tuskegee Airmen, a moving film on the first African American fighter pilots. Sent an email afterwards to Dianne Dillon Ridgly, whose father was one of the “round two” Tuskegee airmen, and who I last saw a month or so ago at the Ecotopia event in London.

Loved the new landscape Caroline is painting up in her studio. And when we were leaving, much later, the frost shone on the car’s roof – and the stars shone brilliantly overhead, a smudged shooting star arcing over the barns towards Burford. A great skein of stars, including the Big Dipper and a brilliant planet, hung overhead, with a half Moon. Magical.

Elaine, Peter, Coreen, Gary and Charmian

A delightful gathering of the London ends (plus Peter Zollinger from Zurich) of the SustainAbility and Volans tribes at The Waterhouse Restaurant today, though with one of my dishes turning out to be disconcertingly full of human hair. The restaurant provided some sort of alcoholic compensation, which four of us then plunged into with multi-coloured straws. Later, as we were leaving, a snowball fight broke out in the courtyard and then spilled into the street, eventually involving local boys. I may have started it. Great fun, perfect snowball snow.

Mark, Gary and Nadine Coreen and I Four straws: Sam had one, but has her finger on the button