Sustainable land use by learning from the past
This is the most exciting, informative, encouraging book that I’ve read for some time. It’s a brilliant evocation of the deep interplay between people and nature which for centuries gave Wales landscapes that were productive, sustainable, and abundant in biodiversity.
As Carwyn explains “the key to understanding the abundance of Welsh nature up to the mid-twentieth century lies in the ways of life and culture of the people who created the Welsh landscape.“
Whilst there have been changes in land use and farming over the centuries, there are also elements that date back to medieval times, or even the Iron Age. For example, the roundhouses built from 2500BC onwards would require management of forests to provide suitable timber – and woodlands were also shaped to provide food (e.g. hazelnuts) and hunting opportunities.
Carwyn’s enthusiasm and vivid descriptions, including many current case studies, draw you along through the book, which weaves together a remarkable range of sources: including ecology, archaeology, Welsh literature, social history, and vivid stories from the people and places that he visits.
Tir is Welsh for land, and the seven main chapters of the book each explore a Welsh word for a type of land: it’s soon obvious that one English word can’t come close to explaining the multiple, overlapping elements and uses that each of these land types has.
For example, ffridd might be translated as rough mountain pasture. Carwyn sums it up as ‘lightly wooded mountainside/seasonal grazing and nutrient sources’. His chapter on ffridd explains the infield/outfield system for livestock, used in Wales for many centuries. The upland ffridd is where cattle and sheep would be turned out in spring, while the lower, infield pasture is rested, and can grow enough to harvest for winter feed.
Carwyn observes that “by one measure ffridd has the highest mean habitat diversity per kilometre square when compared to coastal, lowland and upland landscapes.” And this is because the limited grazing on semi-wild terrain creates outstanding diversity: a crucial point in his vision of future possibilities.
A key message all through this book is that livestock have a crucial role in sustaining rich habitats on the many landscape types in Wales. Hence ‘farming’, of the right kinds, can do a lot more for biodiversity than some rewilding: as Carwyn makes clear, just withdrawing human intervention will usually mean that trees, scrub and bracken will take over.
A Possible Positive Future
What makes this book exciting is its belief that “a nuanced understanding of landscape history that gets under the skin of the drivers of change… might be able to give us key reference points for existentially crucial questions about the future of life in this corner of the Earth.” And this is what Tir delivers.
A 2021 report by the UK Food, Farming and Countryside Commission says that mixed farming on sustainable principles (without pesticides and synthetic fertilisers) would meet our food needs, and reduce agricultural greenhouse gas emissions by 80%. The great encouragement from Tir is that much of the infrastructure for this kind of farming still exists in Wales: the land ownership and field sizes are mostly smallish, and the hedgerows which are a key habitat are still abundantly present.
There are many issues to overcome to enable this: although this is traditional farming in Wales, still practised by some, do current farmers have the desire and the skills to do it? Can Government policies support the subtleties of this approach? Is there enough demand, at viable prices, for veg grown in these conditions, or meat from nature, hardy cattle breeds back on the hills?
In the Epilogue, Carwyn lists “ten concrete actions that could be taken at a landscape scale in Wales at low cost and with very quick benefits to biodiversity, human health and food security.“
Group training session at Cegin y Bobl
My relieved response to his ten points is, this could happen. There’s deep pride of place and love of heritage in Wales, and if farmers can see how their traditional methods could be updated, and if the economics could support this, major positive change is possible.
There are many organisations across Wales pushing in broadly this direction, including Our Food 1200, Food Sense Wales, and the food partnerships in each county. Carwyn himself is involved in practical action on several fronts, including Cegin y Bobl (The People’s Kitchen), which he co-founded: it runs truly transformational food education programmes, for kids, school caterers, and community groups.
One reason I moved to Wales two years ago was a belief that positive change is more possible here, and Tir highlights that potential brilliantly. Even if you live elsewhere, read this book: many of these approaches would work across the UK and beyond.