may day may day may day

Whilst campaigning in the 1980s against the nuclear deterrent, my father befriended a fellow pacifist, the late English composer Robert Simpson. Although politically interested, I was far too young to appreciate their political bond, which was in fact rooted in a love of great music. But I well recall my father recounting to me, when I was no more than ten years old, something Simpson said to him about nuclear war. Simpson’s greatest fear about nuclear annihilation, at a time when the superpowers of the day held in their hands the power to eliminate planet earth seven times over, was not the extinction of species, or even mankind, but a terror that the scores of Beethoven’s precious and timeless symphonies could be destroyed forever.

I must admit, to a young teenager more interested in beer and girls than the intricacies of classical orchestration or even war with the Soviets, this profound thought was somewhat wasted on me. But as I sat in the Royal Festival Hall on Friday evening listening to a staggeringly talented 28 year old Greek conductor (unusually, in her profession, a woman), Stamatia Karampini conducting the London Philharmonic playing the Overture to Wagner’s epic ode to love, Tristan & Isolde, I think I knew what Simpson meant. No less so when the truly brilliant Norwegian pianist, Sigurd Slattebrekk, played the Grieg Piano Concerto as though he had just discovered the meaning of sound itself.

I have long felt that those who yearn to save our wondrous planet have so much in common with those who truly appreciate and honour great music. Yet their worlds have too seldom collided. Environmental gurus revere Dylan and other popular cultural relics (albeit great ones) of the sixties. Classical music buffs are too concerned with the greatness of Mahler or Mozart to worry themselves about natural beauties like the turquoise mot-mot or the orangutans of the Asian rainforests. How I wish the two groups could combine (Classic FM is after all the most successful commercial radio station in the UK) and pool their common interest in the survival of all beauty on this earth for our common good. My father died, last year, at 92, having divided his life between journalism, political activism, poetry and the theatre. Perhaps a sub-conscious attempt to reconcile his concern for the people of this earth with the wonders they inherit in the arts. He lived long enough to see my passion for the survival of both our natural world and the musical culture that sustains its human habitants. In our day to day corporate lives, I wonder whether we would not all benefit from a little less time on email and a bit more energy devoted to the things, man-made and natural, that surely hold the key to our long term survival. On Friday night, listening to this heavenly sound flow from the orchestra, I would have deleted even the most important work email. Because in the grand scheme of things, it could not possibly have mattered.

 It reminded me always to remember the things that really count, be they sights or sounds.  If you don’t believe me, listen to that Wagner overture before you browse one more web-page today. It’s truly worth saving. It’s hard to believe anyone who heard it would engage in the carefree destruction of the planet that gave it life. Humanity has become the planet’s resident expert in waste. Some things are simply too good to waste, and the music that has survived generations is one of them. It represents natural beauty of a kind that only a nuclear holocaust could extinguish. In that sense, it is stronger than the vulnerable species that stand on the brink in the face of our wanton destruction.

I spent Christmas and New Year touring India (or as much of India as you can tour in sixteen days) with my girlfriend and mum. It was greatly exciting to be in a country I had wanted to visit ever since seeing Richard Attenborough’s Gandhi aged ten. Not to mention India’s prime position in the sustainable development spotlight as its population and economic growth continue to explode. The sub continent’s green challenge is well documented here in the West, but I had not appreciated just how prominent the environmental agenda is in India itself. No tour guide failed to mention global warming and its impact on water supplies (I don’t think we saw one river that hadn’t dried up). And for all the noise, congestion and bustle of Delhi, I was stunned to see that every single auto-rickshaw now runs on Compressed Natural Gas (which has made a hugely positive impact on pollution levels I’m told). As London contentedly parades its tiny trial fleet of fuel cell buses, it’s worth noting that all Delhi’s buses have been converted to CNG for some time. All vehicles proudly bear the slogan ‘World’s Largest Eco Friendly CNG bus Service’). And given the vast numbers of people crammed into and hanging off the buses, the carbon footprint per passenger is probably almost nil.

Just like Europe and the USA, companies are keen to ride the bandwagon (if not the buses). A variety of green ads adorn the domestic terminal at Bangalore Airport. I’m not entirely sure that the phrase ‘Eco-friendly Miners to the Nation - Spreading Happiness’ from the country’s largest iron ore producer would pass muster with the UK Advertising Standards Authority (who’ve just upheld a Friends of the Earth complaint about a BBC World TV ad proclaiming Malaysian Palm Oil as ’sustainable’), but it’s interesting that the company feels the need to say it nonetheless.
 

Reading the newspapers everyday was also revealing. Just as many articles and leader columns about climate change, carbon offsetting, clean energy, the growth of the organic food industry and corporate responsibility in The Times of India, The Hindu or the Indian Express as we find on our European breakfast tables every day. That was a truly pleasant surprise as well.
 
Please don’t misread this as an assertion that India is on track to be a sustainability icon, or a green and pleasant pollution free land. Nowhere are water scarcity, the impact of climate change, extreme poverty, unsustainable agriculture and over-fishing more apparent. Pollution is everywhere, as is the daily waste of a country on the move towards ever vaster consumption levels. And systemic corruption always threatens to scupper any noble political or commercial progress.  But national, state governments and big business are at least moving these issues fast up the agenda in a way that is not often reported here. The prospect of clean technological development (India is a global tech leader after all) and this superpower as a force for good in the world is a real one. Sitting in Bangalore Airport, I felt the same as I did in China last year - these emerging giants may have further to travel down the green path than some European countries, but their culture, appetite for change and technological expertise means they might just get there faster than we did in the West, with all our dithering and political fudge. They will get there even more quickly if we don’t make them the dumping grounds for our own wasteful excesses by sending them all our rubbish. I don’t really want to live in a country that exports rubbish, be it in container bins or on television.
 
There were the usual green gripes you get on holiday. Irritation with the (gorgeous, sorry but it was) Kerala hotel that plastered its bathrooms with brass signs saying ‘protect our planet’, pleading with guests to hang towels up on hooks for re-use, and firmly encouraging us to use water and energy sparingly. Yet short of hiding your towel in your suitcase, no matter what time you returned from the pool you would find it replaced with a clean one. And it’s hard to save water when the bathroom basins have no plugs and the loo flushes for around 20 minutes at even the tiniest flick of the flush. And try saving energy when they turn your air-conditioning system down to 5 degrees on full blast all day when you’re away from your room. Anyway, all these points belong on the feedback form (I have never visited a country so into feedback forms). And the truth is, most hotel chains are no better in Europe or the US.
 
When I saw the resilience, courtesy, spiritual wellbeing, work ethic and calm diligence of the people I met across five different States, I couldn’t help thinking that for all the chaos, dirt and noise, if there’s one place on earth that might one day be a mammoth green pilot light for the rest of the world, India is it.

Eco-friendly transport!