Less is More

 I’ve called my blog ‘Make the world a better place’ as I think all our actions should be for the benefit of all  others, living now or in the future. This gives human lives purpose, meaning, value and happiness. But if this is true, the exact opposite must also be true, so I’ve also toyed with the idea of renaming it ‘Stop ruining the world’ because, as the world is already wonderful, is there is any need to “make” anything? Maybe we only need to minimise our harmful actions in order to keep the world the paradise it is. Perhaps we should learn to do less, not more, especially concerning the environment.

I first learnt the value of inaction and the difficulty I have in doing nothing, on a walk, or rather a paddle, in New Zealand. The Inland Pack Track involves paddling down a spectacular river gorge in ankle deep warm tropical water that cuts through the limestone landscape. It takes a few days, so nights are spent sleeping in caves in the cliff sides, one of which is so large it’s called the ballroom. It’s all very idyllic, and after the first day of relaxing paddling (there’s no tiring up hill sections)  I set up camp under the huge overhang of the ballroom. After cooling  off under the waterfall, I went to sleep next to a camp fire whilst watching the glow worms on the roof of the cave. I was perfectly contented despite the rain that had start to fall.

However, the next morning it was still raining. The water level had risen alarmingly and the river was now a raging torrent. Above the noise of the waves, eddies and backflows, the sound of the boulders grinding together as they were tumbled down stream by the power of the water, meant carefree paddling was off the agenda. The water was at least a meter deep and fast flowing. No way was I getting into the water carrying a big rucksack. I was trapped.

By mid day the rain had stopped but the water flow remained high and fast. As something to do I had built a small cairn to mark the water level, laid out stones to spell SOS to any passing aircraft and thought of bad outcomes. I was on my own, know one knew where I was, and the car was parked off road so no one would notice it. It had stopped raining, but what if it started again? What if it was the start of the rainy season and the river would remain high until next summer. My map, warning of the dangers of rivers and the frequency of drowning, only made me feel more worried and isolated. No one would miss me or noticed my abandoned car, so hope of  outside help  was weeks away. I rationed out my three packs of noodles and concluded I had to do something.

Being a climber and mountaineer, I decided to tackle the gorge walls. If escape by the river was impossible, I would have to get out over land. However, as the cliffs where covered in thick tropical vegetation, and the eroded limestone landscape full of man trapping pot holes, this proved dangerous and impossible with a heavy back pack. There was no exposed rock to get hold of and everything was covered in deep soggy vegetation, most of which was extremely slippery, unstable and so rotten it  disintegrated when touched. What looked like solid wood, often proved to be rotten and just collapsed when touched and disappeared into some hole that was hidden by a covering of thick vegetation. After an hour of effort getting no where and several near falls into the river and slips into a hidden pot holes, I retreated back to the cave.

Dejected, I noticed the level of the river had dropped a few inches but was still flowing as strong as ever. I paced about. I couldn’t read. I was full of stress and energy but there was nothing to do but just sit and look at the water and listen to the grinding of the submerged boulders. I though of home.

That evening I cracked. I couldn’t just sit here doing nothing. I had to do something . The water had dropped a few more inches but at that rate it would be many days before it returned to paddling depth. I found two stout wooden sticks to aid my balance, donned my back pack and entered the water.

The power of the water against my legs  was surprising. I struggled to keep my footing.  When it reached my waist, both sticks snapped under the strain, and I was swept off into deeper water. This was a very dangerous moment If I lost my footing, my sack would have flipped me over and probably held me under. I would have either to jettison the pack (which would have been difficult whilst being swept downstream) or drown.

Fortunately neither of these things happened. When the sticks broke. I leaned back against the flow but was picked up by the water and swept down stream. My pack, however, which was full of plastic bags to keep things dry, acted as a float, and as I was not totally out of my depth, my occasional contact with the river bed meant I was able to prevent my self from rolling over. I sort of moon walked, barely in control, in giant hops or bounces rapidly downstream fighting to keep upright. There was no time to think, just survive. Go with the flow but fight to keep upright.

I have no idea of the distance I went or the time I was in the water, but eventually I was swept to the other side of the gorge and managed to grab hold of rocks on the far cliff and bring myself to a halt. Clinging to boulders and the cliff I managed to work my way further down stream until I could scramble up to a small cave well above the water level. Probably shocked by the experience, I don’t remember what I though at that moment other than to spending  the night in that cave was the only option.

The next morning, the sun was out, the water was back to ankle depth and I realised I had risked a drowning for nothing. In this limestone country the water levels go down as quickly as they come up and you should wait patiently rather than enter the fast flowing deep water. Doing nothing is the best option.

Ever since this experience I’ve been aware that western culture or the “Protestant Work Ethic” as its called means I and a lot of other white Anglo Saxons just can’t stop doing things, regardless of whether its for the better or not. This obsession to seize the day, get stuck in or find a solution is deep rooted and often creates more problems than it solves, especially when we don‘t fully understand reality.  From Robinson Crusoe who tirelessly constructs his new home on a desert island, to the film the Martian, where Matt Demon  Sciences the S**t out of being stuck on Mars, work followed by more work is always deemed to be the answer.

Years ago, I enrolled on a management  course, but when I inquired if any research had been done into the concept of over-management, (ie when too many cooks spoil the broth), I didn’t get a helpful response. When I was working, it was frowned upon if I knocked off early, turned off my phone or didn’t work weekends, even though every thing was under control. Even now, when I’m retired, when I says I’ve not been doing much and have no current plans, I get sorrowful looks as I’m deemed to be unhappy and wasting my life, of which little remains.

Governments find it almost impossible to do nothing and can’t help but interfere. They get criticised for not sorting out what ever is deem to be the latest crisis. In-action is dithering, a sign of indecisiveness, lack of confidence and  weakness, So a considered thoughtful response is out of the question, and a knee jerk, over reacting panic measure is  the norm. Keeping the hysterical fear spreading press (who must have an inflated story in order to boost sales) and ranting scared majority happy is the priority. Hence we get lockdowns, windfall taxes, company bail outs, hand outs, bad laws and economic policies and pointless targets rather than well thought out policy that addresses the real causes of the perceived problems which will probably sort themselves out given time.

Particularly, when it comes to the environment, doing nothing is especially important. I used to volunteer to work for a local conservation group, but all we seem to do was “manage” nature by cutting down trees, digging up shrubs and piling up the debris into large heaps that remained an eyesore for years to come. Fortunately when I wrote to them, explaining that the most beautiful places in the world I had visited, where the ones were humans had little or no impact, my idea that conservation should be about minimising the human impact on the land seem to take root, and they are now busying themselves buying up land, remodelling it to whatever they deem best and declaring themselves the saviours of nature. We just can’t get our heads round the fact that nature doesn’t need us and would be far better off with out us.  

With the implications of man made climate change now obvious, it is important that we learn to do nothing or a whole lot less, especially when it comes to burning fossil fuels. Unfortunately there is currently no sustainable way of fly off to all parts of the world, as I ignorantly did when younger. We will have to learn that we can still enjoy life without air miles. There is beauty and wonder wherever you look in this world and books and the computer can bring far off places to you with out the emissions. I acknowledge its not the same as visiting a honey pot tourist location for yourself, but every man destroys what he loves, and isn’t mass tourism destroying exactly what we are hoping to find when we travel? On my last visit to a Mediterranean Island, it was over run by cruise ship passengers, souvenir shops, massive soulless holiday developments, commercialised crowded beaches and noisy night time bars staffed and owned by non locals. Hell truly  is other people, if you want to experience the beauty of the world, and don‘t we just go to these place just to brag about them, rather than truly experience them?.

Its easy to forget that adventures and fun can be had closer to home and there’s isn’t a need to go far to fill our free time. Hopefully more will realise that the holiday industry is just selling us empty dreams and will, like me, learn that doing nothing is sometimes the best option, without nearly drowning on the other side of the world.