What 40 Years of Eco Activism Has Taught Me
We're in a worse position than when I started
All my work is dedicated to education about crucial environmental and ethical issues. All of it. Writing and videos. Not because I have the luxury of savings - I am funded solely by readers like yourself - but because it’s my passion, and my mission, and I want to contribute something meaningful before it’s my turn to depart this crazy planet.
But it’s not easy. And it’s always been a struggle.
I have always loved nature. I am most at home when I am away from human influence.
My journalism career began at the age of 18. I had also become a vegetarian at the age of 18. The two passions united and I tried where possible to write about environmental issues I cared about. But man, it was difficult.
As a teenager I had always created my own printed publications - my versions of what newspapers and magazines should have looked like. It came naturally to me, then, to fill in 16 blank tabloid pages with my own content to become the Liverpool Echo Junior Journalist of the Year.
Running my ideas past newspaper editors and news editors, once I was working in the industry, was less successful, which is why I have spent 18 years of my career as a freelance, writing about the issues I believed were the most important ones to share.
Closing down a zoo
Incidentally, becoming vegetarian was a big thing in 1986. There were not many veggie food options in stores and certainly not in restaurants. I only wish I’d gone vegan - but that was considered impossible at the time. I finally got there.
Back then, I also had to do jobs I really didn’t want to do. I was sent to visit Southport Zoo to meet two newly-arrived chimpanzees. I hate the caged cruelty of zoos, but I was fascinated by the chimps as I sat next to them and they attempted to share their meal with me. Remarkable, beautiful creatures.
But I wanted them to be in the wild, not in the untidy office of a random tourist attraction in north-west England.
A couple of years later, I launched my own magazine in my spare time - Wildlife Watch. I campaigned against the zoo, with photos I had taken in secret. The zoo had also been ordered to improve living conditions for the chimps.
More animal rights campaigners got on board, and within a few years, the zoo was forced to close, losing its licence. A sweet taste of success, even though the local council served it.
From circus performer to agitator
I was also forced to take part in the American Three-Ring Circus for a newspaper feature. I abhor circuses that feature animals, chaining them up for most of their lives and only bringing them out to entertain crowds who should know better.
I was given the choice of going in with the lions, clowns or Moroccan acrobats….
Let’s see… Lions. I’m totally against the use of animals in circuses. I’m also worried I might be mauled to death.
Clowns… they would also eat me alive.
So the Moroccan Acrobat Troupe it was.
Yes, that’s me, in 1988. I was given a sparkly, revealing gold outfit and pointy orange shoes to wear. Fortunately, these were the days before newspapers shot in colour film.
The acrobats couldn’t speak English, so I was ushered through the darkness of night, from their caravan into the circus tent, not knowing what to expect.
Before I knew it, I was standing in the middle of the circus rings (three joined together) in front of 2,000 people, blinded by the lights, hearing the ringmaster announcing me as their latest attraction.
I was guided to stand on the end of a line, and then a Moroccan acrobat put one foot on my right thigh.
Ah… they were forming a human pyramid. Great.
I was the crucial balance on the end of the bottom row. The dependable corner of the triangle. What could possibly go wrong?
I’ll tell you what went wrong. My leg buckled, and five layers of shiny acrobats came tumbling down from the spotlights.
I’ve got to hand it to those guys, they landed really well, even threw in a forward roll and a smile.
Arms out, they signalled to give it another go. This time I just about held my ground. Nobody died, and I was ushered away to change back into my own garish 80s clothes.
Riding high on principles
About five years later, on another newspaper, I was sent again to cover the local circus visit. This time it was a circus famed for its poor treatment of an ageing elephant, Janey. The task given to me by my news editor, for a nice, fluffy, feelgood story, was to have a ride on that very elephant.
I refused. By now, my personal activism had instilled in me a determination never to do anything that would cause or promote harm to animal or human. In that order.
I was threatened with the sack. I was about to lose my job because of my principles. It felt good.
The editor must have been impressed that I’d taken a stand. I was instead sent to cover the story of the animal rights activists trying to close down the circus. I chased the circus owner for an interview, and he threatened me with violence. My colleague got to ride the poor elephant.
In 2012, circus owner Bobby Roberts was found guilty of causing unnecessary suffering and failing to prevent animal abuse, in relation to another veteran elephant. He received a three-year conditional discharge.
Getting through… and getting locked up
Throughout my career in journalism, there were occasional concessions made to environmental issues, when editors believed that the public cared sufficiently to warrant such a focus. But it was never consistent, and reporting could never upset advertisers, however complicit they were.
Outside of work, I would be attempting to get into my own paper for protesting with Friends of the Earth, or the British Union for the Abolition of Vivisection. I achieved limited success, but it was clear I was getting through to people with a message of compassion, and a warning of what was to come in the future. The fire was ignited in my belly.
As a freelance journalist, I could write about what I liked - but I didn’t have the financial or legal support that sometimes came in useful. I still don’t.
I was exposed during one freelance mission to interview an animal rights activist in a top security prison. I wanted to tell his side of the story. He was very well known. After all, he’d firebombed some (empty) meat industry vehicles.
I’d arranged to meet his mum at visiting time, and she would take me in to interview him. Relying on British public transport was never a great plan for the day. To cut a long story short, my train was cancelled, I missed a connecting bus and had to walk three miles to get to the prison. This was about 250 miles from where I lived.
I arrived too late for visiting hour. I decided I would wait and speak to the prisoner’s mother afterwards. Stupidly I took a photo of the prison, for use in my article (we didn’t have internet file pics back then). I was spotted, arrested, and shut in a cell for the day, an aggressive Alsation dog guarding my door. I refused to tell the prison officers who I was there to see. Those principles again.
My camera was confiscated and the prison staff developed the film. To be fair, they sent me back some nice family photos that were also on the roll…
Over the years, I have found more freedom to report on the environmental and ethical issues that matter. The internet brought many more reporters and campaigners to the fore, and awareness about global warming, pollution and nature destruction grew to the position it stands at today:
Pretty much everyone knows the basics of how screwed we are. Pretty much everyone doesn’t care to do anything about it.
I tried…
As I have watched wildlife decline by 70% in my own lifetime, as the world has warmed, ice has melted, seas have risen, plastics have permeated every part of our body… it feels like failure, to be honest.
I tried, I really did. In educating - through words, pictures and videos. In activism - taking myself out of my comfort zone to talk to people about pressing eco issues. In my own personal being - from always trying to choose the greener option, to always voting for the party with the greenest policies.
And here we are. In a mess. Facing an extremely worrying short-term future, never mind 2050 and 2100, predictions for which understandably don’t land with the general population.
My own writing and videos are now constructed through the lens of ‘ethical disruption’ - challenging narratives, including those put forward by scientists and the media, both of whom are notoriously poor communicators of fact.
We indeed have a communications crisis, and that has to be tackled with urgency in order to gain more support to take on the climate, nature and pollution crises.
I’m determined to get to the end of this journey, and have the luxury to be reflective on my death bed, to think: I did everything I could, and things are now changing for the better.
If my final day was today, I would drift away without much consequence, and with tears in my eyes.
I’ve always tried to be optimistic. I’ll drink every last drop of that. I simply have to.
Thank you for supporting me.