Successful idealism needs a fundamental basis in realism and pragmatism
‘If you are trying a new crop or variety, you don’t bet the farm on it – you trial a small field first to see how it works. The world of politics could learn much from the world of farming’
DIFFERENT professions attract people with di erent character traits – and the necessary attributes for politicians and farmers are quite di erent.
Further to Ken Fletcher’s harrowing of the Greens last week, the experience Scotland has endured over the past three years has confirmed to most of us why
nd only 1% of the population voted for them. They have many ideals, which is fine by me, but Humza Yousaf has realised too late that successful idealism needs a fundamental basis in realism and pragmatism.
The First Minister might have lost his job as a result, but it was still the right call, and tempting as it might be to hang on to power, the worst thing the SNP could do now for themselves and the country would be to let the Greens back in with a new First Minister. For a prime example of letting the good be the enemy of the perfect, look no further than the misguided
Highly Protected Marine Areas which proposed a complete ban on any fishing, lobster potting, or recreational water use.
If, instead, the Scottish coalition government had proposed to reintroduce the ban on bottom trawling and scallop dredging within three miles of the coast, which was in place for almost a
100 years between 1889 until 1985, they could possibly have made a valuable inroad into conserving and regenerating the seabed around our coasts without alienating everyone, but that would have meant compromise – idealists don’t do that.
Folk who are baed by the almost continuous scandals coming out of Westminster and Holyrood might be enlightened by Matthew Parris’ observation in The Times that politicians are generally big risktakers. The chances of becoming an MP in the first place is infinitesimally small – only a person predisposed to take risks on a big scale would tick the box: politician over teacher, accountant, lawyer, doctor or nurse. Risk aversion might also be overridden by idealism, the strong belief that you want to improve the world we are in, coupled, perhaps, with a dash of ego that you are the person to improve it. There are, I am sure, many politicians who feel no more than a sense of duty and desire to contribute, but the nature of the job inevitably attracts many of the first kind.
Farmers, on the other hand, although they are usually fortunate enough to be born into their profession, are risk-takers too – my grandfather used to say you should never be a gambler because as a farmer you already are, betting on the sun, wind and rain doing what they should do and when they should do it.
As this winter and spring have proved, that isn’t necessarily the case, but at least we know that the odds are there will be sunshine aer rain, and the seasons will eventually fall into some kind of order. We are taking a risk, but it’s a sensible one. We are taking a manageable risk this year with robots from a Norwegian company called Saga in some of our strawberry tunnels, and we are grateful for the backing of our producer organisation Angus Growers for helping to fund it.
The robots are like sunbeds on wheels, with UV lights contained in a hood which kill mildew spores without harming the plant. If it works well enough, it will allow us to reduce our use of pesticides even further.
Farmers might also be idealists, but unlike politicians they are governed by the laws of physics, chemistry and biology, so any idealism must be grounded in, and tempered by, reality if they are to be successful. That is perhaps where the dierence lies between farmers and politicians, and why it is baing to many of us why politicians sometimes make the choices they do when it is apparent to a pragmatist that they are destined to fail or to be caught in flagrante or with fingers in the till.
As in many things, small changes, incremental adjustments, are likely to have a far more solid foundation to work from, and are therefore more likely to be successful than the le and right-wing radicalism we have seen north and south of the Border in recent years. Most farmers know that from their own businesses. If you are trying a new crop or variety, you don’t bet the farm on it – you trial a small field first to see how it works. The world of politics could learn much from the world of farming.
Most of us would love to see less risk-taking ideology and more steady, pragmatic realism. A period of evolution rather than revolution would be welcome.
Our cows are departing shortly, and I am moving into livestock of a smaller kind. Retired teacher Ron (87) keeps a few hives on the farm, and we have a reciprocal flower for honey arrangement. He is starting to find the physical side of it a bit much and mentioned that he might have to give them up, so I have oered to help.
It feels good for this livestock farmer to still have creatures to care for. It reminds me of the story about the farmer from Fyvie who took a trip to the bright lights of London. He stayed in a smart hotel but was unimpressed at breakfast the next morning to see one of those tiny glass pots of honey on his table.
When the waiter came and asked him if everything was satisfactory, he replied that it was, then aer a slight pause remarked, ‘I see you keep a bee’.
It is baffling to many of us why politicians sometimes make the choices they do when it is apparent they are destined to fail