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Our Place
Environmental thought and politics have become parts of mainstream cultural life in Britain. The wish to protect wildlife is now a central goal for our society, but where did these ‘green’ ideas come from? And who created the cherished institutions, such as the National Trust or the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds, that are now so embedded in public life with millions of members?
From the flatlands of Norfolk to the tundra-like expanse of the Flow Country in northern Scotland, acclaimed writer on nature Mark Cocker sets out on a personal quest through the British countryside to find the answers to these questions.
He explores in intimate detail six special places that embody the history of conservation or whose fortunes allow us to understand why our landscape looks as it does today. We meet key characters who shaped the story of the British countryside – Victorian visionaries like Octavia Hill, founder of the National Trust, as well as brilliant naturalists such as Max Nicholson or Derek Ratcliffe, who helped build the very framework for all environmental effort.
This is a book that looks to the future as well as exploring the past. It asks searching questions like who owns the land and why? And who benefits from green policies? Above all it attempts to solve a puzzle: why do the British seem to love their countryside more than almost any other nation, yet they have come to live amid one of the most denatured landscapes on Earth? Radical, provocative and original, Our Place tackles some of the central issues of our time. Yet most important of all, it tries to map out how this overcrowded island of ours could be a place fit not just for human occupants but also for its billions of wild citizens.
From the flatlands of Norfolk to the tundra-like expanse of the Flow Country in northern Scotland, acclaimed writer on nature Mark Cocker sets out on a personal quest through the British countryside to find the answers to these questions.
He explores in intimate detail six special places that embody the history of conservation or whose fortunes allow us to understand why our landscape looks as it does today. We meet key characters who shaped the story of the British countryside – Victorian visionaries like Octavia Hill, founder of the National Trust, as well as brilliant naturalists such as Max Nicholson or Derek Ratcliffe, who helped build the very framework for all environmental effort.
This is a book that looks to the future as well as exploring the past. It asks searching questions like who owns the land and why? And who benefits from green policies? Above all it attempts to solve a puzzle: why do the British seem to love their countryside more than almost any other nation, yet they have come to live amid one of the most denatured landscapes on Earth? Radical, provocative and original, Our Place tackles some of the central issues of our time. Yet most important of all, it tries to map out how this overcrowded island of ours could be a place fit not just for human occupants but also for its billions of wild citizens.
352 pages, Paperback
First published April 8, 2018
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 37 reviews
July 12, 2018
Britain has always liked to think of itself as a nation of animal lovers, we spend several billion pounds on our pets each year get outraged when people commit acts of cruelty towards our furry friends. This love of animals drives people who care about wildlife too. It wasn't until 2013 that we finally voted for our own national animal, the hedgehog and there are a couple of million people in organisations such as the RSPB and the various wildlife trusts. The National Trust has now reached five million members. Programmes like Springwatch have made people far more aware of the amazing variety of wildlife in our country, they are more aware of environmental issues, try to put food out for the birds and make their gardens a little more friendly towards wildlife.
Cocker celebrates the achievements of the visionary people who have managed to save a landscape or a species, create some of our national institutions and inspire others to do the same. However, the reality is that our wildlife is suffering; species are going extinct, the whole ecosystem from the bottom up is reaching a critical tipping point that we may never return from. The numbers are pretty horrific, in the past 50 years, we have lost 50% of our biodiversity. That is the past 50 years, not since the industrial revolution. Just in the case of farmland birds, there are 44 million less now than there were in 1970. We only have 1% of our wildflower meadows left now.
So how did we reach the point where green concerns are on the rise just as the creatures people are beginning to care about fall off an actual and metaphorical cliff? In this really radical text, Cocker takes a long hard look at how we have got to this moment, what has caused this, and the people and systems to blame and boy, he does not hold back. He argues that the roots of this reach way back to almost 100 years ago after William invade with his Norman Army. This feudal system that he imposed on the country has shaped our politics and culture ever since. The landed classes manage to avoid almost all tax on their properties and still get large subsidies from the UK government and EU. They have no interest in preserving the fragile ecosystems unless it suits their narrow interests. He is prepared to criticise other organisations too, the Forestry Commission has a scathing attack on the monoculture of trees that they have imposed on regions that are totally unsuitable for them. Again they are another organisation that the elite has used for tax evasion, I mean efficient investments. The NT fairs a little better, but with its focus on maintaining the properties as the previous owners would have wanted and the continuation of their sporting activities, which mostly involves shooting, rather than making an effort to preserve the wildlife that they have on their extensive properties.
There are many other examples that make this essential reading, but as the subtitle says, is it too late? Whilst this is an intense polemic, he still manages to be lyrical, I was delighted by the writing whilst seething reading about the things that have happened. Part of his enthusiasm is driven by a small part of Norfolk that he has purchased and is slowly restoring to become a wildlife haven. Whilst he is doing his own small thing there are lots of people who aren't. We are to blame in part too, for example, we have demanded cheaper food, meaning that agri-business has managed to make farms and fields outdoor factories that wildlife does not play a part at all. But can we make a difference? There are around 8 million of us in the RSPB, National Trust and the Wildlife Trusts, but only a handful are prepared to rattle the doors of the politicians and ask them some very difficult questions. Another problem is the small number of people that own vast swathes of the land, they have no desire to change at the moment and will fit all the way to stop this.
Would also recommend Wild Kingdom: Bringing Back Britain's Wildlife by Stephen Moss and The Running hare by John Lewis-Stempel as must-read books in the same vein. It is not a book that you will like reading, but it demands to be read. Then acted on. Join a wildlife trust and start to make a difference.
Cocker celebrates the achievements of the visionary people who have managed to save a landscape or a species, create some of our national institutions and inspire others to do the same. However, the reality is that our wildlife is suffering; species are going extinct, the whole ecosystem from the bottom up is reaching a critical tipping point that we may never return from. The numbers are pretty horrific, in the past 50 years, we have lost 50% of our biodiversity. That is the past 50 years, not since the industrial revolution. Just in the case of farmland birds, there are 44 million less now than there were in 1970. We only have 1% of our wildflower meadows left now.
So how did we reach the point where green concerns are on the rise just as the creatures people are beginning to care about fall off an actual and metaphorical cliff? In this really radical text, Cocker takes a long hard look at how we have got to this moment, what has caused this, and the people and systems to blame and boy, he does not hold back. He argues that the roots of this reach way back to almost 100 years ago after William invade with his Norman Army. This feudal system that he imposed on the country has shaped our politics and culture ever since. The landed classes manage to avoid almost all tax on their properties and still get large subsidies from the UK government and EU. They have no interest in preserving the fragile ecosystems unless it suits their narrow interests. He is prepared to criticise other organisations too, the Forestry Commission has a scathing attack on the monoculture of trees that they have imposed on regions that are totally unsuitable for them. Again they are another organisation that the elite has used for tax evasion, I mean efficient investments. The NT fairs a little better, but with its focus on maintaining the properties as the previous owners would have wanted and the continuation of their sporting activities, which mostly involves shooting, rather than making an effort to preserve the wildlife that they have on their extensive properties.
There are many other examples that make this essential reading, but as the subtitle says, is it too late? Whilst this is an intense polemic, he still manages to be lyrical, I was delighted by the writing whilst seething reading about the things that have happened. Part of his enthusiasm is driven by a small part of Norfolk that he has purchased and is slowly restoring to become a wildlife haven. Whilst he is doing his own small thing there are lots of people who aren't. We are to blame in part too, for example, we have demanded cheaper food, meaning that agri-business has managed to make farms and fields outdoor factories that wildlife does not play a part at all. But can we make a difference? There are around 8 million of us in the RSPB, National Trust and the Wildlife Trusts, but only a handful are prepared to rattle the doors of the politicians and ask them some very difficult questions. Another problem is the small number of people that own vast swathes of the land, they have no desire to change at the moment and will fit all the way to stop this.
Would also recommend Wild Kingdom: Bringing Back Britain's Wildlife by Stephen Moss and The Running hare by John Lewis-Stempel as must-read books in the same vein. It is not a book that you will like reading, but it demands to be read. Then acted on. Join a wildlife trust and start to make a difference.
October 30, 2019
I loved this book, but it certainly is not what it says on the tin. This is a book that narrates this history of Britain's conservation movement. Sure, in doing so it describes some of the reasons behind the destruction of Britain's environment and hints towards its future by recounting the trends of the past. But it is not really about saving British wildlife before it is too late. Although informed by facts and relevant primary source material, this book is largely the perspective of one man. A well-informed man with relevant expertise, of course, but it is a deeply personal book in the way that it narrates the history of Britain's environmental movement. I loved the book. It helped me understand so much about the environmental movement and conservation policy in this country, which had thus far puzzled me so much because it seems so different to that which I am used to in other countries. On one hand, it re-affirmed for me that so much of British conservation is tinkering at the margins and protecting what other countries would view as ordinary, but what is, for British people, extraordinary in its importance (think hedgerows, unimproved pastures, and landscapes shaped by centuries of human habitation, like fens and heathland). It also helped flesh out the reasons for the thing that to me feels so striking: that for British people, wilderness is irrelevant and treasured landscapes are truly where nature meets culture. I have always felt that every bit of nature is cultural here, including the ineffectual British laws governing nature's conservation. This book got me closer to understanding why that came to be. The book is engaging and from the heart, and I really enjoyed reading it, once I got over my expectations about what it should be, based on its title and blurb. I don't believe that it tells the full "truth" of British conservation, but I do feel it tells a heartfelt version of it through the eyes of someone with a lot of passion and experience. I have read a lot of books on this subject and have lived in this country for 5 years, working in this field. But my hat is off to Cocker, as he has succeeded where so many other authors have failed in helping me actually understand how the movement came to be so distinctly British, even if I am still left with many questions about why. Most of all, the reason I rate the book 4 rather than 5 is that it doesn't answer the question in the book's subtitle. It is still a puzzle how we might proceed in the future, given how much culture has changed in this country and how unlikely it is that we will return to the cultural conditions that created the distinctly British version of nature that people like him love so much. Judging by his 'ten interlocking Truths' (yes, with a capital T), I am not so sure that he has the answers either. The book may not get you to the 'where to from here' step, but it will get you a long way toward understanding how we got here when viewed through the lens of the conservation movement. I suspect that, to get to the next step, this needs to be linked to much larger contextual factors, but this book is in most ways incredibly parochial. I say that not as an insult but as a means of highlighting how insightful it is about local conditions and cultural drivers of conservation. I can't think of another book that does that so well. That said, I don't think this is a book for people who aren't specifically interested in British conservation, as it has little bearing on conservation elsewhere. In this sense, it does indeed live up to its name in describing "our place", if by 'our' we mean the residents of Britain.
April 17, 2019
This book is incredible. It builds the case for urgent and wide-ranging actions to save Britain’s nature by drawing on Mark Cocker’s extensive social, cultural, historical and ecological knowledge. It’s an easy and sometimes beautiful read but scholarly. I loved it. It crosses the divides between science, politics and art in a way that few books achieve.
September 29, 2019
Took me 3 months to get through this book. It was hard, long, dry reading. With a tag line of "can we save Britain's wildlife before it's too late?" this should have been right up my street. However it was not. If I wasn't reading it for a book club it probably would have been the one I never finished. No flow between chapters and, I feel bad saying it, so so boring. Basically a history of legislation. The final chapter got interesting as he actually began to say his opinion and answer the question but it was too little too late. I feel i am the target audience for this book and yet I still found it so boring it nearly killed my love of reading.
February 2, 2020
Excellent. Read it.
This thoroughly-researched, thoughtful, very well-written book is essential reading for anyone interested in British wildlife. I hope I can write a review that will justify that dogmatic statement, and that will do justice to the excellence of the book itself. Here is an attempt.
Cocker starts with a heart-felt question: why does he put so much effort into managing his small patch of Norfolk land for the benefit of other species? His answer leads to another, broader, question: why it is that although Britain has proportionally the largest memberships of conservation organisations in the world, so much of its landscape is thoroughly degraded for the purposes of wildlife, and is (for the most part) still on a trend of decline. His exploration of the major UK conservation organisations, and of the degradation of British landscapes is a masterpiece. He leads us on an admirably clear path through some extremely tangled thickets and yet (to mix the metaphor) always manages to show us the wood as well as the trees. His writing is not only clear, it is evocative, entertaining and persuasive. And it is also subversive, quietly impassioned, and authoritative: each chapter is peppered with links to a five-page select bibliography, and he acknowledges the assistance of more than 50 individuals, many of them well-known experts in environmental or related fields.
The book is cleverly structured as an exploration of some of the key British landscapes: the north Norfolk coast, Fenland, the Pennines of Derbyshire and Upper Teesdale, and the Flow Country of Caithness and Sutherland. Cocker introduces each with some of his personal experiences, leading us into an explanation of the major environmental players in the UK (both non-governmental and within government), explaining their mutual relationships, and the frameworks of legislation and, critically, land ownership within which they operate. In turn, this leads to an exposition of a number of key case studies that exemplify some of the problems and processes that have contributed (and are contributing) to the decline of nature.
He concludes with ‘Ten Truths’, as he sees them, together with some potential ways forward. The tenor of these summaries is shown by the first, in which Cocker writes that between 1920 and 2018, ‘the British people have devastated large areas of their environment, largely through the instruments of farming and forestry policies’. They have ‘drained their landscape of wildlife, otherness, meaning, cultural riches and hope.’ Moreover, he points out, ‘the citizens of this country have paid for these processes through government subsidies’.
Cocker’s answer to the question that he poses himself can be stated simply. We should look after wildlife (and places where it lives, such as our gardens, for example) because it is in our best interests to do so; for in caring for wildlife, we care for ourselves. If you read this book, it may well change the way that you view the British ‘countryside’, and how you think and feel about it. It may make you angry. There are ways to stop the decline, it seems, but radical action is required. Without significant changes, the decline will continue.
This thoroughly-researched, thoughtful, very well-written book is essential reading for anyone interested in British wildlife. I hope I can write a review that will justify that dogmatic statement, and that will do justice to the excellence of the book itself. Here is an attempt.
Cocker starts with a heart-felt question: why does he put so much effort into managing his small patch of Norfolk land for the benefit of other species? His answer leads to another, broader, question: why it is that although Britain has proportionally the largest memberships of conservation organisations in the world, so much of its landscape is thoroughly degraded for the purposes of wildlife, and is (for the most part) still on a trend of decline. His exploration of the major UK conservation organisations, and of the degradation of British landscapes is a masterpiece. He leads us on an admirably clear path through some extremely tangled thickets and yet (to mix the metaphor) always manages to show us the wood as well as the trees. His writing is not only clear, it is evocative, entertaining and persuasive. And it is also subversive, quietly impassioned, and authoritative: each chapter is peppered with links to a five-page select bibliography, and he acknowledges the assistance of more than 50 individuals, many of them well-known experts in environmental or related fields.
The book is cleverly structured as an exploration of some of the key British landscapes: the north Norfolk coast, Fenland, the Pennines of Derbyshire and Upper Teesdale, and the Flow Country of Caithness and Sutherland. Cocker introduces each with some of his personal experiences, leading us into an explanation of the major environmental players in the UK (both non-governmental and within government), explaining their mutual relationships, and the frameworks of legislation and, critically, land ownership within which they operate. In turn, this leads to an exposition of a number of key case studies that exemplify some of the problems and processes that have contributed (and are contributing) to the decline of nature.
He concludes with ‘Ten Truths’, as he sees them, together with some potential ways forward. The tenor of these summaries is shown by the first, in which Cocker writes that between 1920 and 2018, ‘the British people have devastated large areas of their environment, largely through the instruments of farming and forestry policies’. They have ‘drained their landscape of wildlife, otherness, meaning, cultural riches and hope.’ Moreover, he points out, ‘the citizens of this country have paid for these processes through government subsidies’.
Cocker’s answer to the question that he poses himself can be stated simply. We should look after wildlife (and places where it lives, such as our gardens, for example) because it is in our best interests to do so; for in caring for wildlife, we care for ourselves. If you read this book, it may well change the way that you view the British ‘countryside’, and how you think and feel about it. It may make you angry. There are ways to stop the decline, it seems, but radical action is required. Without significant changes, the decline will continue.
January 30, 2025
Excellent clear-eyed view of the situation with nature in the UK. Lots of information with not a single sentence wasted. Even the longer passages describing the landscape he’s about to explain the battles over set up the scene by situating us more visually in that place. There was a lot of connection for me with this book as he mentioned local places I know. While, at moments, it can feel a touch dry, I really enjoyed his wry, precise way of speaking. Even though this one is in my physical book collection, I listened to the library audiobook version and enjoyed the author’s narration of his own work (as did my partner who really got into it when I played it on a long drive we’d gone on). Great book. My only sadness is that my mind is so sieve-like I’m sure I won’t remember all the exact details that I’d like to but that’s a me problem.
March 3, 2020
The book is full of many facts and the history of conservation societies is interesting. Overall though, it is rather a tedious read. Lots of information just not written in a way that grabs you.
August 15, 2018
A little verbose, personally I would have omitted several chapters. However, many chapters are exceedingly excellent and provide a well written and easy to follow account of Corn Laws, Monocultures of Trees post WW2, controvesies over bogs and dams and concrete facts about the damage we have done to England and what we are beginning to do to mitigate these. Really interesting and great read!
July 14, 2019
Beautifully written but such a sad tale of corruption and stupidity.
November 12, 2020
dipped into this for background on the RSPB and a good bit of forestry commission bashing! if you’re really into environmental politics and the landscape of norfolk i imagine it’s a great read
May 22, 2024
Oh dear. The subtitle is a question: Can We Save Britain's Wildlife Before It Is Too Late? Mark Cocker is not a depression-monger, but I feel the answer is no. It's already too late.
I know it sounds pathetic on my part, but I went through this entire book being regularly shocked and horrified. I mean, I should know all this stuff already, shouldn't I? Am I not environment-conscious? Am I not green-aware?
Oh hell, no. I'm really not. I've read right to the end, and I even read most of the footnotes. But now I need to go back to the beginning and read it again. It's far, far worse than I thought. This guy doesn't exaggerate. He simply describes, and if anything, understates. So much of what he says is true, and I know it's true because I've seen it. It's happened in my lifetime.
My only (extremely faint) comfort is the fact that (coincidentally) I'm running an experiment in my own garden this year and letting all the 'weeds' develop properly instead of yanking them out, so I can learn about each of them as plants, read up, get to know what they do. The lawn (which has never been impressive) is full of clover, dandelions, daisies, moss, mouse-ear hawkweed and something I don't know the name of yet. I'm not sure of the names of the grasses that collectively comprise 'lawn', but I figure when they seed, I'll find out.
But hey, things are bad in the small country in which I live. Globally they're bad too. And yes, the plastic grass is spreading. We get the odd hedgehog in our garden, probably because it's one of the few gardens round here that isn't fully paved. And there aren't as many hedgehogs as there used to be, or wasps (nobody misses wasps), or bees, or butterflies, or hoverflies, or ladybirds. Haven't seen a frog round here ever, though it's pretty swampy these days. Men from the horticulture department of the council periodically appear fully kitted up in white space-suits with helmets and masks in order to spray the pavements and verges with weed-killer. They are extraordinarily sinister. Maybe they're killing us too.
"No single generation since the First World War has bequeathed a healthier British countryside than the one they inherited. What special efforts have we made in recent years for us to assume that things are different today. They are not."
Nope. They're not. And he's right politically too: "This people of this country, subjects rather than citizens, have an inbuilt deferential reflex to the landed, and have allowed the same powerful minority to continue to enjoy massive unequal fiscal benefits and political privileges for seventy years."
He writes well. Never any sense of axe grinding. Just clarity and purpose, and sometimes humour.
And yet here I am still feeling shocked, and shocked that I'm so easily and obviously shocked. Where have I been?
"Environmentalism is essentially about land and how it is managed. Alas, more than 53 million of us in Britain own an average of just seven-hundredths of one acre. More than almost any other in Europe, this is a nation of landless people. In fact, one wonders at times if the green lobby is a latent response to the ongoing impacts of nineteenth-century enclosure and the many forms of dispossession they entailed. My guess is that most green organisations are staffed with people who are professional, middle-class and landless. // The country's actual terra firma is concentrated in the hands of a tiny minority. And that dispensation has existed for a thousand years."
So while I sit happily watching This Farming Life on a Sunday evening, impressed by stories of ecological projects, biodiversity, rare breeds and principled breeders, it's skewing my focus completely. Because I'm watching the exceptions, not the rule. Tiny weeny exceptions.
I'm going to read the book again. And then some more by this author. And my garden may be tiny too, but at least I've got one. And the weeds are staying.
I know it sounds pathetic on my part, but I went through this entire book being regularly shocked and horrified. I mean, I should know all this stuff already, shouldn't I? Am I not environment-conscious? Am I not green-aware?
Oh hell, no. I'm really not. I've read right to the end, and I even read most of the footnotes. But now I need to go back to the beginning and read it again. It's far, far worse than I thought. This guy doesn't exaggerate. He simply describes, and if anything, understates. So much of what he says is true, and I know it's true because I've seen it. It's happened in my lifetime.
My only (extremely faint) comfort is the fact that (coincidentally) I'm running an experiment in my own garden this year and letting all the 'weeds' develop properly instead of yanking them out, so I can learn about each of them as plants, read up, get to know what they do. The lawn (which has never been impressive) is full of clover, dandelions, daisies, moss, mouse-ear hawkweed and something I don't know the name of yet. I'm not sure of the names of the grasses that collectively comprise 'lawn', but I figure when they seed, I'll find out.
But hey, things are bad in the small country in which I live. Globally they're bad too. And yes, the plastic grass is spreading. We get the odd hedgehog in our garden, probably because it's one of the few gardens round here that isn't fully paved. And there aren't as many hedgehogs as there used to be, or wasps (nobody misses wasps), or bees, or butterflies, or hoverflies, or ladybirds. Haven't seen a frog round here ever, though it's pretty swampy these days. Men from the horticulture department of the council periodically appear fully kitted up in white space-suits with helmets and masks in order to spray the pavements and verges with weed-killer. They are extraordinarily sinister. Maybe they're killing us too.
"No single generation since the First World War has bequeathed a healthier British countryside than the one they inherited. What special efforts have we made in recent years for us to assume that things are different today. They are not."
Nope. They're not. And he's right politically too: "This people of this country, subjects rather than citizens, have an inbuilt deferential reflex to the landed, and have allowed the same powerful minority to continue to enjoy massive unequal fiscal benefits and political privileges for seventy years."
He writes well. Never any sense of axe grinding. Just clarity and purpose, and sometimes humour.
And yet here I am still feeling shocked, and shocked that I'm so easily and obviously shocked. Where have I been?
"Environmentalism is essentially about land and how it is managed. Alas, more than 53 million of us in Britain own an average of just seven-hundredths of one acre. More than almost any other in Europe, this is a nation of landless people. In fact, one wonders at times if the green lobby is a latent response to the ongoing impacts of nineteenth-century enclosure and the many forms of dispossession they entailed. My guess is that most green organisations are staffed with people who are professional, middle-class and landless. // The country's actual terra firma is concentrated in the hands of a tiny minority. And that dispensation has existed for a thousand years."
So while I sit happily watching This Farming Life on a Sunday evening, impressed by stories of ecological projects, biodiversity, rare breeds and principled breeders, it's skewing my focus completely. Because I'm watching the exceptions, not the rule. Tiny weeny exceptions.
I'm going to read the book again. And then some more by this author. And my garden may be tiny too, but at least I've got one. And the weeds are staying.
unfinished
October 8, 2019I read the first 60 pages. There could be no criticism of Cocker’s aim – to assess the state of British nature and provide a potted history of the environmental organizations that are working to save it – or of his clear and impassioned writing. I happily read the first three chapters on the National Trust, RSPB and Wildlife Trusts. But I found I simply didn’t need this level of detail on the history of nature conservation in Britain. His personal writing about his patch of Norfolk engaged me a bit more.
March 31, 2020
Hard to read as it was written in a very boring and slow manner. I was disappointed because I heard so much about this book and it seemed more exciting than it is, it also concentrates a lot on chronology of various wildlife projects and ornithology as opposed to urban wildlife which is how it was advertised to me at the library. This book is riddled with statistics which will drive you crazy too.
May 15, 2019
A decent analysis of how we’ve stripped most of nature from our countryside. Cocker occasionally seems to wander off the point, but he writes so well that’s not a major distraction. Sadly (and accurately) he’s unable to identify a way out of the mess we’re in, as entrenched interests and failures of our political system are just too strong to give any realistic hope of improvement.
Read
October 18, 2019Essential reading for anyone/everyone who has any interest in nature, in the British countryside, and even--though the book is about Britain--in our beautiful planet. Well written, well researched, full of information and sources and resources to follow up. One of the most important books I've read recently. Read it and tell everyone else who might be interested to do so!
November 7, 2020
This book sounded like it would capture me in every way but unfortunately it's not for me. Very historical, not an easy read, a bit dry and I hate to say, boring in the most part. I've heard great things about it so it must just be a personal taste issue.
I give one star to any book that I don't finish. That doesnt necessarily mean to say I think it is bad.
I give one star to any book that I don't finish. That doesnt necessarily mean to say I think it is bad.
January 6, 2021
A very necessary and inspiring book about the history of Britain’s countryside, the destruction of large parts of its diverse ecology and the efforts of various men, women and organisations to bring it back from the brink. It is also full of beautiful nature writing, just what you’d expect from this wonderful writer
December 29, 2021
An important book, an interesting book (although it takes a while to get going), but as several reviewers have already pointed out, its subheading is fairly misleading - rather than looking explicitly at what we can do to save Britain's wildlife, it actually holds a mirror up to many of the taken-for-granted assumptions we have about our relationship with the countryside.
March 2, 2022
Great book. Will read it again in the future. In-depth description of conservation groups in this country and an analysis of land use. Suggestions as to how things can be improved on the wildlife and conservation fronts. Really enjoyed reading it particularly relevant to walks on the Pennine Way. Lovely poems about nature included in it.
September 23, 2022
This book is the most thoroughly researched piece of nature writing I’ve ever encountered. I’m not sure how he squeezes it all in to a modest word count but he makes every word count. Can be a lot to chew through at times, but I will keep this book forever to refer back to important dates and key pieces of research.
June 22, 2023
this book was so dedicated to people already pretty deep in the sphere of british wildlife conservation (i am not) and so it was really challenging to read. i like to push myself when i read books but like … in an enjoyable way. so if anyone reading this has some simpler or more introductory book please let me know.
July 4, 2019
Very well written in terms of prose and construction. The history and theory is clearly explained and linked to specific places and to the author's emotions and identity. I admire his attempts to be completely honest and unflinchingly truthful.
March 9, 2020
Informative, digestive and frank story of the daunting position we find ourselves in interwoven with Mark's personal relationshipwith nature. Concludes with practical idea for how we might hold onto what nature remains and possibly even rebuild. Highly recommended.
May 31, 2020
A sobering read about the state and the future of Britain's wildlife and countryside. This is not an up lifting or sentimental book, but looks at the stark reality of in action to protect our natural environment.
September 7, 2022
This book covered a lot I did not know and was quite unbiased in so far as highlighting issues with approaches across the political spectrum but equally being clear in how environmental protections are hindered by the disproportionate power of a small landed class.
May 19, 2018
This book addresses issues which should be important to us all
June 27, 2018
Straightforward and honest overview about the state of nature in the UK. The more you read, the more hopeless the future seems, despite some instances of minor successes.
October 11, 2018
Unbalanced view of environmental challenges facing the U.K. countryside.
October 26, 2018
Really important book and, as expected, extremely well-written. Still struggling with a lot of this reading to see where the hope is, especially given our recent history of muddle and loss.
August 24, 2019
Well written, wide ranging, carefully researched.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 37 reviews