Land Reform and the Economic Recovery

Tomorrow afternoon (Tuesday 2nd June) the Scottish Parliament will debate the next economic steps in dealing with the Covid-19 pandemic.  This week too, the Scottish Government’s Advisory Group on Economic Recovery will begin sifting through responses to its call for views on how to enable Scotland’s economy to recover swiftly from the crisis and emerge in a stronger and more resilient state.  It scarcely needs saying that this is an unnervingly uncertain time to be living through as we collectively try to assimilate the social and economic aftershocks of the pandemic and the bewilderingly rapid pace at which our sense of normality has been cut from underfoot.

Against that dislocating background, the case for positioning land reform as a cornerstone and accelerator of economic recovery becomes ever more compelling.  That’s because the issues of how land is owned and used and, crucially, who benefits from these arrangements, are central to determining Scotland’s progress towards becoming a greener, fairer and more sustainable society.

There’s nothing particularly new in that insight.  The overarching argument for contemporary land reform – dating from the 1990s onwards – is that there are deep-seated structural problems with the concentrated pattern of predominantly private land ownership  in Scotland that act as barriers to the sustainable development of the nation as a whole and local communities in particular. These structural problems essentially revolve around the monopoly possession and exercise of power (economic, political and social) as it relates to land as a factor of production. Specifically, who has power; how it is exercised; and in who’s interests it is exercised.

The fundamental relationship between land ownership and use was confirmed by the Scottish Government-appointed Land Reform Review Group (LRRG) in its influential 2014 report, The Land of Scotland and the Common Good, which provided much of the impetus for subsequent legislation and other policy initiatives on land reform in Scotland to date.  It asserted:

Ownership is the key determinant of how land is used, and the concentration of private ownership in rural Scotland can often stifle entrepreneurial ambition, local aspirations and the ability to address identified community need. The concentrated ownership of private land in rural communities places considerable power in the hands of relatively few individuals, which can in turn have a huge impact on the lives of local people and jars with the idea of Scotland being a modern democracy.”

More recently the Scottish Land Commission’s 2019 report on large scale and concentrated land ownership in Scotland connected land ownership, the related exercise of power and unsustainable development outcomes. It stated:

“There is no automatic link between large-scale land holdings and poor rural development outcomes but there is convincing evidence that highly-concentrated landownership can have a detrimental effect on rural development outcomes. These effects arise because landowners have the power to decide who can access land, when, for what purpose and at what price. This power is created by the current system of private property rights and is therefore directly linked to land ownership.”

As defined by the LRRG, the land reform process involves “measures that modify or change the arrangements governing the possession and use of land in Scotland in the public interest”.  In essence, that entails making changes to three elements of Scotland’s land tenure system:  property laws governing land ownership (e.g.introduction of Community Rights to Buy); regulatory laws governing land use (e.g. changes to the land-use planning system; environmental designations); and non-statutory public sector measures (e.g. fiscal measures including taxation, grants, subsidies etc.) to influence how land is owned and used in the public interest.

Land reform has a crucial strategic role to play in ensuring that the economic recovery is a Green recovery; one in which the economic, environmental and social dimensions of sustainable development become mutually positively reinforcing to produce a step-change in pursuit of the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals.   Community ownership of land is a means to directly address the climate emergency whilst simultaneously generating a range of community and wider public benefits as a result of sustainable land use.

There is scope to enhance that capacity significantly through reforms to Scotland’s land tenure system which enable more communities to own land and generate income for community reinvestment as a result of delivering public goods and benefits (e.g. carbon capture) as a consequence of sustainably managing that land.  Similarly, the introduction of a specific Feed In Tariff Scheme for renewable energy production specifically for community-generated renewables (and ensuring provision of interconnector infrastructure throughout Scotland to enable export of surplus energy to the National Grid) would ensure that such investment remains in Scotland, enable the further development of Local Energy Systems, provide for community reinvestment of revenues and contribute to Scotland’s Net Zero emissions target.

Scotland needs a ‘Rural New Deal’ that tackles the economically damaging issues of concentrated land ownership and unsustainable demographic change in our rural areas head on.  Diversifying how land and other natural assets such as forests and marine resources are owned and used will help deliver the climate change mitigation and adaptation, affordable housing, employment creation, and population retention and growth that are essential to the sustainability of our rural places and to delivering wider public benefits.

There’s also a pressing need to ensure that the economic benefits from Scotland’s land resources are shared more equitably within rural and urban communities as a matter of social justice, while also ensuring that wider public benefits generated by these resources are safeguarded and promoted.   Applying a public interest test as regards the suitability of prospective private purchasers of land over a certain scale is one legislative option which would help address these issues.  It’s an option to which the Scottish Government has already signalled its commitment in principle.  Making more sustainable use of vacant and derelict land through community-led regeneration is also a priority for urban land reform in particular.

Beyond legislative change, Scotland needs a reconfigured fiscal system that proactively encourages land ownership diversification as a means of unlocking the full potential of rural and urban communities to both contribute to, and experience, a post-Covid economy that places fairness, sustainability and wellbeing at its heart.   There is merit in exploring the scope for introducing a Land Value Tax and other fiscal measures to reduce inflated land values in Scotland that impede diversification of land ownership and land use as routes towards place-making that links climate justice, community empowerment and sustainable development.  There’s also merit in exploring the scope for introducing a supplementary charge to the Land and Buildings Transactions Tax for private sales of rural estates over specific sizes, with the generated revenue being used in addition to support from the Scottish Land Fund to help finance community buyouts and provide ongoing development support to community landowners.

The emergence of community-led responses to the Covid-19 pandemic further reinforces the urgent need to re-localise the design and delivery of core underpinning elements of the economy including our food systems, energy generation and distribution, community health and social care services, and local transport provision.  That calls for new, more de-centralised governance arrangements with genuine community engagement and empowerment hard-wired into the process of shaping both the design and delivery of these  core economic elements locally.

The ‘Preston Model’ of community wealth-building offers one potentially fruitful avenue to explore how such reconfigured localised governance and delivery arrangements could implement a radically different vision of what constitutes ‘wealth’ at the local level, as measured against a more sustainable set of economic, environmental and social indices than those conventionally used to calibrate economic progress.  A vision in which that wealth is retained within (rather than extracted from) our urban and rural communities and distributed on a substantially more equitable basis than is currently the case.

Many community land and asset owners are playing a key role in the recovery of their local economies from the pandemic.  Some plan to set up incubation spaces for local businesses to support the recovery.  Others have been sourcing food locally, both for shops and for delivery to people who are shielding, vulnerable or self-isolating.  New connections are being made with local suppliers and some Community Trusts are now providing services to vulnerable and disadvantaged people in their communities.  This is resilience-building from the ground up.

These Community Trusts have been able to perform these crucial support functions precisely because, as local anchor organisations, they have the infrastructure and capacity to respond rapidly and effectively to challenges posed to their communities by the pandemic. In many cases that infrastructure and capacity has been developed as a direct consequence of their roles as land and other asset owners.   It’s crucial therefore that Scotland continues to invest in scaling up community ownership as a way of stimulating local economic development, resilience and community wellbeing.  Consequently, there’s a strong case for retaining the Scottish Land Fund with an increased budget of up to £20 million annually to consolidate and further expand its vital strategic function in facilitating more community ownership of land and assets throughout urban and rural Scotland.

The pandemic and its still unfolding aftermath has shone an unforgiving light on the structural vulnerabilities of the economy in terms of the resilience of particular industrial sectors, regional challenges in both urban and rural spatial contexts, ways of working and security of employment, and services provision.  There is clearly no ‘one-size fits all’ solution to these manifold challenges.  Nevertheless, achieving the ‘better’ (i.e. greener, fairer, wealthier) society calls for a focus on equity in the form of emphasising the needs of the least advantaged in society now (intragenerational equity) and on a fair treatment of future generations (intergenerational equity).  Land reform – encompassing changes to the ways in which land is owned and used in the public interest – provides a crucial foundation stone from which to tackle many of these structural problems and propel Scotland towards that better society focused on the common good. That requires bold and imaginative policy thinking, backed by the political will to seize the opportunity to set Scotland’s economic path towards a more sustainable future.  But time is short and ‘business as usual’ is no longer a credible option.

Celebrating 10 years of community ownership of West Harris

IMG_0652.jpg

This is the text of a talk I gave at a Burns Supper held by the West Harris Trust on January 25th 2020 to celebrate the 10th anniversary of West Harris coming into community ownership. 

I’d like to thank the Trust for the invitation to come and speak at this evening’s event.  10 years of community ownership is a fantastic achievement and there’s much to celebrate in that time, which I’ll get on to shortly.

I must admit I was flattered and slightly surprised to be asked to speak to you this evening.  My first thought, when I got the invitation from Neil Campbell, was that David Cameron must be off the island this weekend.  It turns out that he is.  But I hope you’ll bear with me in any case!

As some of you know, I have long-standing family connections with Harris.  Both my late parents were Hearachs.  My father, Tormod, came from Finsbay and my mother, Mairi, was from Seilibost.  Neil and I share a connection in that she was our primary school teacher in Vatten Bridge in Skye, longer ago than we probably both care to remember!

I grew up in Skye and lived there until I was 16.   In 1985 my father, my brother and I moved back to Finsbay after my mother passed away.  All of our holidays before then had been spent on the croft there where my father was brought up.  As a kid I always felt that I had a sort of dual island nationality.  In Skye I was known as ‘Calum Hearach’ but as soon as I crossed the Minch, I transformed into ‘Calum Sgiathanach’, which is what my Harris relatives called me.

Much as I love Skye, let me confirm here that I’m a Hearach really!

Aside from my island credentials, perhaps another reason I’m speaking to you tonight relates to my day jobs.

Half of my working week is spent as policy director for Community Land Scotland, the representative organisation for community landowners, of which  –  I’m pleased to say – the West Harris Trust is a member.  So I spend quite a lot of time at the Scottish Parliament in Edinburgh and elsewhere making the case for community land ownership and representing our members’ interests.

By a happy coincidence, Community Land Scotland is celebrating its 10th anniversary this year too, having also been set up in 2010, at a time when the political momentum for land reform in Scotland seemed to have all but disappeared.

You certainly couldn’t say that’s the case now.

The other half of my time is spent working with communities who are keen to follow in the footsteps of places like West Harris by taking the land where they live into their ownership.

In fact, I do quite a lot of that work with Duncan Macpherson, who’s also here tonight.  Duncan often uses West Harris as an example of what can be achieved by communities through ownership of their land, which is always well received and inspiring to the people we talk to.

It’s a real pleasure, therefore, to actually be here to talk about and celebrate what’s been achieved by the West Harris community over the last 10 years.

The story of community ownership in West Harris and elsewhere is – to my mind, at least – essentially one of enabling communities to take control of their own destinies.

Basically, it’s a story about power.  Who has it.  What they do with it.  And who they are accountable to.

But I’m conscious that the Trust’s is not the only birthday being celebrated this evening.  With that in mind, it’s worth pausing for a moment to consider what Robert Burns had to say about Highland Lairds and the power they exerted over their tenants.

Quite a lot, as it turns out.  And none of it complimentary!

In the late 1700s the Highland’s landed elite were facing the unwelcome prospect of losing great swathes of their still economically useful tenantry who were keen to emigrate to the New World in search of better prospects.  That these emigrants would put a sizeable dent into Britain’s military recruitment was an unequally unwelcome development from the Lairds’ perspective.

It’s estimated that around 12,000 Highlanders emigrated between 1782 and 1803, the year that the Passenger Vessels Act was enacted to raise the cost of travel to North America far beyond the means of prospective Highland emigrants, under the pretext of regulating passenger vessels crossing the Atlantic.

Back in 1786, Burns penned ‘Address of Beelzebub’ upon learning of the landed gentry’s intention to ‘frustrate the design’ of some 500 Highlanders to emigrate from the estates of Macdonald of Glengary to Canada.

In ‘Address of Beelzebub’ Burns portrayed the Highland Lairds and Beelzebub – the poem’s narrator – as kindred spirits. Which gives you more than a hint of where his sympathies lay!

This short extract gives a flavour of his scathing view of the Lairds’ efforts to keep their tenants in their place.

 “An’ whare will ye get Howes and Clintons

To bring them to a right repentance

To cowe the rebel generation,

An’ save the honour o’ the nation?

They, an’ be damn’d! what right hae they

To meat, or sleep, or light o’ day?

Far less – to riches, pow’r, or freedom,

But what your lordship likes to gie them?”

Burns – it scarcely needs adding – wrote the poem before the pendulum had swung away from estate owners actively preventing their tenants leaving the land and towards forcibly clearing them from it.

Harris, of course, was no stranger to the Clearances.

In his book, ‘Harris in History and Legend’, Bill Lawson recounts the remorseless removal of the people from the west side by the notorious Donald Stewart.  He writes:

 “It was a bad day for Harris when Donald Stewart came to Luskintyre as a sheep farmer.  When he became Macleod [of Harris’s] factor nothing would do for him but that he would turn the whole of the machair side of Harris into sheep farms, and send the people away to Canada.  Scarista had already been cleared, but Stewart cleared [the Borves], and in 1838 evicted the last of the people from Seilibost”

Landlordism cleared these people without ceremony or compunction to make way for sheep and cold coin.  Many of them ended up in Finsbay in the Bays of Harris, squeezed onto overcrowded crofts or left as landless cottars to work on the kelp farm established there in the 1790s.

The injustice of that enforced displacement of the people echoes through the centuries in Reverend Alexander Davidson’s testimony to the Napier Commission when it convened in Obbe one spring day in 1883.  He said:

It is most unnatural that man should be chased away to make room for sheep and deer; that the land should lie uncultivated when men are perishing for lack of food.”

Three decades earlier, in 1852, the steamer Celt had travelled from Finsbay to Campbeltown to meet with the emigrant ship HMS Hercules before she set sail that December with 742 emigrants from Harris, North Uist and Skye, on a typhus-ridden voyage bound for Australia.

By then Harris was in the ownership of the Scotts of Dunmore.  In turn, they sold the island to Lord Leverhulme, the ‘Soap Man’, shortly after the end of the First World War.  Leverhulme sold it in lots in 1922 or thereabouts, creating the distinctive estate structure that exists in Harris to this day.

In the 1930s and 40s three of these new estates – in Scarista, Borve and Luskentyre – were bought by the Department of Agriculture to provide land for the settlement of crofting families.  In so doing, the ‘Department’ was copying an approach it had used to great effect in Skye in 1923 to create new settlements in North Talisker using the Land Settlement Act 1919.

That initiative had resulted in families – mainly from the Bays of Harris and also from Lewis – moving to 68 newly created crofts in the area, thereby establishing a population of 400 people where for over a century there had been none.  Many of the Harris folk crossing the Minch in 1923 would have been descendants of the generation cleared from the fertile machair of West Harris to the rock-strewn landscape of the Bays a century earlier. There’s a certain poignance in that.

Back across the Minch, it was as ‘Department’ crofting estates that West Harris remained for the rest of the 20th century.

But by the first decade of the 21st century the pattern of land ownership in the Western isles was beginning to change.

In 2003 the 25,900 hectare North Harris Estate was bought by the community.

That was followed in 2006 by the 37,635 hectare South Uist Estate coming into community ownership.

And in 2007 by the 22,260 hectare Galson Estate in Lewis.

Each of these buyouts was motivated by the idea that the communities pursuing them could best shape their own futures by owning the land on which they lived.  And a major part of that has been about ensuring that there are more people living on the land and prospering from it.

That’s hardly surprising, given that between 1951 and 2001 the population of Harris fell by over half from 3,991 to 1,984 people.

Increasing the population has certainly been a driving force behind community ownership of West Harris.

Back in 2010, after – I think it’s fair to say – a fairly challenging buyout process using the 1997 Transfer of Crofting Estates Act, Murdo Mackay, the Trust’s Chair, outlined the vision for West Harris under community ownership.  He said:

“We want to promote Harris as a great place to live and work and we hope to get more families into the area and create new crofts and bring currently under-used land into production. We are very excited about the fact that control of our own land will breathe new life into the community and encourage people to set up homes and raise families.”

 Well, you’ve certainly done that!

In 2010 there was no affordable housing in West Harris; one of the biggest problems facing any island community. Now four affordable house plots have been sold for private builds and there are ten properties, either already built or under construction in collaboration with Hebridean Housing Partnership.

In 2010 there were no business units to let.  Now there are eight business units and one office for lease across three sites.  They’re all occupied.

There are new tourism facilities generating income for the community.  Seven Campervan hook-ups; five camping spots, and toilet and shower facilities.

There’s new infrastructure.  Pontoons.  Renewable energy generated by wind turbines and a hydro scheme.  All delivering environmental benefits for the community and, ultimately, the planet.

There’s Talla Na Mara, this amazing community building we’re privileged to be sitting in tonight.   A fantastic asset for the community in all sorts of social, economic and cultural ways.

There are more jobs.  The Trust employs six members of staff and the restaurant here in Talla Na Marra has created eight seasonal jobs.  And there’s the employment supported through the business space the Trust provides.

All of these things have combined to make West Harris a better place in which to live and, increasingly, to work.

Most preciously of all, there are now more people living here.

Back in 2010 the resident population of West Harris was 119 folk.  There was only one child under 5 years of age living in the community.

Incredibly, that population has risen to 152 people in just 10 years. There are now seven children under 5 and twenty-two people aged under 18 living here.   And there are ambitions to increase the resident population still further by the end of this year.

Now, we’re all Hebrideans, by birth or inclination.  And we’re not much given to shouting our successes from the rooftops.

But permit me – if you will – to break with that tradition just this once.

Because what the West Harris Trust has achieved over the last 10 years of community ownership is quite simply remarkable.  There’s really no other way of describing it.

And plans are afoot for much more to come: renovation of the school building; additional campervan hook-ups; an extension to Talla Na Mara; more affordable housing; fibre optic broadband; and a community share offer.

That’s an impressively bold agenda completely in keeping with the ambition the Trust has shown since 2010 for the betterment of the community.

Opponents of community ownership – they do still exist, unfortunately – often recite the mantra that it’s how land is used, not who owns it, that counts.

Strange, then, that the Lairds should seem so reluctant to be rid of their estates if ownership is so inconsequential!

Of course, land ownership and land use are inextricably linked in shaping communities’ prospects, as the history of West Harris through the centuries demonstrates so well.

Yet here we are in the Scotland of 2020, still with one of the most concentrated patterns of private landownership in the world.

Most of rural Scotland is privately owned and half of that privately-owned land is estimated to be in the hands of about 400 owners.

I don’t think that sort of land monopoly is a healthy situation for Scotland to be in.

By comparison, the amount of land in community ownership is tiny; 209,810 hectares.  That’s less than 3% of the total of Scotland’s rural land.

Remarkably,  over two thirds of the land in community ownership in Scotland is located here in the Western Isles.

And the roll-call of community landowners keeps on growing: Stornoway; North Harris; Galson; South Uist; West Harris; Carloway; Barvas; Pairc; and Keose Glebe.

All places where community ownership is seen as a normal way of doing things.

Places that will hopefully soon be joined by the Bays of Harris and Great Bernera as community-owned estates.

You’ve shown here in West Harris how decades of decline can be reversed when a community takes ownership of the soil (and machair) beneath its feet.

How strong community leadership, vision, commitment and partnership can deliver huge benefits to an ever-growing community by virtue of owning the land.

So I think there’s much that other communities in Scotland – both rural and urban – can learn from your experience of delivering genuinely transformative change in this glorious place you call home.

West Harris has travelled about as far away from the dead hand of landlordism as it’s possible to get. And you’ve made that journey without leaving.

There’s a tender beauty in that achievement that I suspect Robert Burns himself would have appreciated.

Here’s to the road ahead!

Community Empowerment and Sustainable Landscapes

This is an edited version of the text of a short presentation I gave as part of the Scottish Parliament’s Cross Party Group on Rural Policy meeting on October 29th 2019 on the topic of ‘Taking a place-based approach to address demographic change in rural Scotland’.

IMG_8002 (1)

Place-based approaches to rural development are not new.

This is the village of Portnalong in North Talisker on the west side of Skye.  It was created as a consequence of arguably the most radical example of land reform legislation in Scotland in the 20th century.

In 1919 the coalition Government of David Lloyd George passed the Land Settlement (Scotland) Act – celebrating its centenary this year.  Legislation designed to provide smallholdings fit for the heroes returning home from the first world war.

In 1920, as a direct result of the Act, the Board of Agriculture for Scotland paid Norman MacLeod of MacLeod £58,609 (about £1.9 million at today’s prices, according to Jim Hunter) for 60,000 acres of land in North Talisker that had served as a sheep farm following clearance of the area in the 19th century.

And in 1923 families, mainly from the Bays of Harris – where I come from – and also from Lewis moved to 68 newly created crofts in the area, establishing a population of 400 people where for over a century there had been none.  Many of the Harris folk who crossed the Minch in 1923 would have been descendants of a generation cleared from the fertile machair of West Harris to the rock-strewn landscape of the Bays over a century earlier. I suspect I’m not alone in discerning a delicate mix of poignance and optimism within that symmetry of departure and arrival.

Fast forward to the present day and in the grand scheme of things Portnalong, and Talisker as a whole, are doing pretty well.

There’s employment, including at the thriving local distillery.

There’s a resident population which – according to the last census data – seems to have  been bucking demographic trends elsewhere in parts of rural Scotland.   And there’s a primary school that remains open despite previously being threatened with closure.

Head along the road to Minginish and you’ll see – as I did when I visited last summer – an impressive looking community hall celebrating its 10th anniversary as a vital community asset.

That’s not to say that the area is immune to the structural challenges – most obviously a lack of affordable housing – facing many other parts of Skye and elsewhere in rural Scotland. But make no mistake; at a time when skewed demographics lead some observers to contemplate the unpalatable prospect of fragile rural places facing ‘death with dignity’, Portnalong and the wider North Talisker area offer a powerful century-old counter-narrative of ‘rebirth with rights’.  And the most fundamental right of all for a community is simply to ‘be’.

The need for political boldness and policy imagination of the sort that propelled Portnalong and its neighbouring settlements in North Talisker into existence is now more pressing than ever.

So, it may be that a Land Settlement Act from 100 years ago offers important contemporary pointers for the future of rural place-making in Scotland.

Not least regarding how the current land-use planning system can counter negative demographic change by helping to retain and grow existing communities’ populations and by enabling creation of new settlements where it’s feasible and appropriate to do so.

But that alone is not enough.  Contemporary rural place-making also needs to embrace a radical rethinking of the relationship between communities, landscapes and sustainability.

Last year, in collaboration with Inherit (the Institute for Heritage & Sustainable Human Development), Community Land Scotland published a research report titled ‘Community Empowerment and Landscape’.

 It uncovered tensions between the principles of landscape policy (broadly encompassing natural, cultural and built heritage) and its practice that are vital to account for in taking a place-based approach to development.

These tensions include:

  • An approach that dissects the environment into parts rather than taking a holistic approach to its management;

 

  • An absence of diverse views on what defines a place;

 

  • A continuing drive to single out and protect ‘special’ landscapes;

 

  • A ‘fence and exclude’ conservation culture that treats development simply as a threat;

 

  • A tendency to see landscape matters as the preserve of landscape professionals and institutions.

The research also found a significant ‘participation gap’ whereby communities felt ‘locked out’ of decisions about conservation and its relationship to development that affected their everyday lives.

These tensions and that participation gap matter.  Because if we are serious about place-making as a way to reverse the damaging demographic trends that threaten our most sparsely populated areas, we need to think about our rural landscapes in ways that are genuinely economically, socially, environmentally and culturally sustainable.

That means ensuring that communities’ voices are to the fore in characterising, valuing and managing our rural landscapes, rather than marginal, disenfranchised aspects of these processes.

It also means – and I accept this may be uncomfortable for some – stripping away the ‘wilderness myth’ that shrouds much of Highland Scotland in particular.  There’s a political ecology at play in characterising many of our rural places as ‘wild’ that is beguilingly seductive for all sorts of reasons.

But it masks an inconvenient truth.

Our rural landscapes were never ‘wild’.  They are socially constructed places that have been made and remade – for better or worse – by centuries of human intervention.

That’s not to suggest that we should forgo or somehow downplay and diminish the ecological heritage and diversity of our rural places.  Quite the opposite, in fact, as we hurtle towards the existential threat of climate catastrophe.

Rather, the central challenge confronting us all – policymakers, civil society and communities alike- is how to calibrate the idea of rural place-making to embrace its economic, social and environmental possibilities holistically, in ways that are mutually and positively reinforcing.  Locating community empowerment at the centre of that endeavour is critical to enabling our rural communities – and, by extension, our rural places – to thrive rather than simply survive.

That challenge also necessitates ensuring that land reform in its broadest sense – involving changes to the ownership and use of land in the public interest and for the common good – is hard-wired into public policy as a permanent cross-cutting issue for sustainable rural development rather than an optional extra.

In short, we need to re-connect the relationship between communities, landscapes and power to ensure that the road ahead takes all of our rural communities and places towards a sustainable future.

 

Scotland 2050: Thriving Rural Scotland

The following is the text of a short think-piece I was invited by the Scottish Government to write on the theme of ‘Thriving Rural Scotland’ to help inform discussion on priorities for Scotland’s fourth National Planning Framework (NPF4) to address.

Much of rural Scotland faces a depopulation crisis.  Scottish Government funded research by the James Hutton Institute estimates that the Sparsely Populated Area (SPA), covering almost half of Scotland’s land area but containing less than 3% of the nation’s people, will lose more than a quarter of its population by 2046 in the absence of urgent policy intervention.  Zoom in to the regional level and the picture looks equally grim. The Highland Council predicts population growth between 2016 and 2041 in Inverness, Skye and Lochalsh and Ross and Cromarty. However, many of the region’s other places are set to experience continuing population decline over the same period: Sutherland (-11.9%); Caithness (-21.1%); East Ross (-13.8%); Badenoch and Strathspey (-5.3%); and Lochaber (-5.9%).  Head to the Western Isles or the Southern Uplands and you’ll be confronted by a similarly gloomy population prognosis.

Stemming the flow of people from our sparsely populated area must feature at the top of policymakers’ ‘to do’ list if we are serious about creating a thriving rural Scotland by 2050.  That means reframing our relationship as a society with land and landscapes so as to enable our most vulnerable rural communities to flourish as a matter of social justice whilst simultaneously safeguarding our natural heritage and combatting the existential threat of climate change.      Land reform – defined in the Land Reform Review Group’s 2014 report, ‘The Land of Scotland and the Common Good’, as “measures that modify or change the arrangements governing the possession and use of land in Scotland in the public interest”  – has a vital role to play in reframing that relationship.   A crucial part of that task involves tackling negative monopolies of power inherent in concentrated rural land ownership that can stymie genuinely sustainable development.  That implies more imaginative deployment of  legislative, regulatory and fiscal policy levers to achieve rural outcomes that contribute to the common good of Scotland as a whole.

The land-use planning system also has an important future role to play in the reframing process.  Some of the groundwork for the system’s future contribution to rural repopulation has been laid in provisions within the Planning (Scotland) Act 2019 for which Community Land Scotland strongly advocated.  Increasing the population of rural areas of Scotland is included as one of four outcomes for the next National Planning Framework (NPF).  Scottish Ministers must have regard to the desirability of resettling rural areas that have become depopulated when preparing the content of the Framework.  Allocating land for resettlement may now be a consideration for developing both the NPF and Local Development Plans. There is also scope for producing maps and other material relating to rural areas where there has been a substantial decline in population when preparing the NPF.  The Framework must also have regard for any Land Rights and Responsibilities Statement or any strategy for land ownership or use prepared by Scottish Ministers.

These are all helpful provisions in terms of making the planning system fit for the purpose of helping repopulate areas of rural Scotland. However, their effective implementation depends on the commitment of Government and Planning Authorities to steer planning policy towards land use that is genuinely economically, environmentally and socially sustainable.   In short, planning policy that helps deliver the affordable housing, ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ infrastructure and high-quality jobs that are vital to attracting more people to live and work in our currently most imperilled rural communities.  That will require policy imagination and political will.   But be in no doubt that the extent to which these communities’ prospects are turned around will be the barometer of whether all of rural Scotland is thriving by 2050.

Power to the People: Blue Hearts and Big Dams

The Institute for Heritage & Sustainable Human Development (Inherit) recently organised a screening of Blue Heart: The Fight for Europe’s Last Wild Rivers hosted by the Moving Image Archive of the National Library of Scotland at Glasgow’s Kelvin Hall.    The documentary focuses on controversial plans for hydropower development on the Vjosa/Aoos River, one of Europe’s last surviving free-flowing rivers, in the transboundary area of Albania and Greece.  These plans form part of a much larger push for hydropower generation in the Balkans where over 3,000 hydropower dams and diversions are being planned from Slovenia to Greece.  188 of these developments are already under construction with potentially significant negative impacts for the region’s natural environment and rural communities.

Blue Heart highlights the struggle of communities, for whom the river is their lifeblood, to resist the construction of these dams.  In so doing, it poses some deeply challenging questions about the sustainability of ‘big hydro’ in the region, transparency and accountability of governance arrangements, and the marginalising of communities’ voices in ‘development’ processes.  It’s hard not to be moved by the dignity and resilience shown by these protesting communities in the face of what appears to be an uncompromising – and sometimes violent – combination of state and corporate power.   It’s equally hard not to be cheered when they successfully resist the bulldozers coming in, as some communities have done.

As part of the same screening and by way of a prelude to Blue Heart, the Archive also showed Power for the Highlands, a short Ministry of Information film from 1943 about the potential of hydropower to economically transform the Highlands of Scotland.   As Jim Hunter noted in a tweet, it’s worth watching just to see a couple of GIs turning up in the Highlands to sing the praises of the Tennessee Valley Authority, a key component of Roosevelt’s New Deal.   Power for the Highlands is certainly also worth watching for the way it deftly weaves themes of repopulation, land ownership, community and development into its fifteen minutes, aided by a subtly subversive script co-written by Neil Gunn.  It scarcely needs adding that these issues remain highly relevant to the region’s prospects today.

 Separated though they are by the geography of time and location, both Blue Heart and Power for the Highlands nevertheless shine a light on the complexities of interpreting what constitutes ‘sustainable’ development.   In Blue Heart the prospect of intensifying hydropower production in the Balkans is portrayed as a socio-ecological disaster in the making; one posing an existential threat to human settlements through which the Vjosa/Aoos River meanders and to the biodiversity which depends on its free-flowing currents.

In contrast, the promise of hydropower coursing through Power for the Highlands carries with it the prospect of something akin to economic salvation; a ready-made solution to ‘the problem of the Highlands’ whereby ‘nature’ is conquered for the greater good of the region’s human population.   That 1940s narrative may seem a little too anthropocentrically brutalist for modern tastes.  Nevertheless, it’s hard to deny that the then Secretary of State for Scotland Tom Johnston’s vision of hydropower for the Highlands, and the ‘electric light’ it subsequently delivered, were pivotal in transforming the region’s fortunes in the second half of the twentieth century.

The narrative trajectories of both Blue Heart and Power for the Highlands might ostensibly be heading in opposite directions, certainly in terms of the merits or otherwise of large-scale hydropower developments.  But at their core these films share a fundamental concern about power in other guises – political, social and economic – and how it might be exercised for the common good. Now, more than ever, that feels like an issue deserving of our attention.

 

Land Reform Bill Approaches Endgame

The Land Reform (Scotland) Bill is fast approaching its legislative endgame. Last week it emerged from Stage 2 of that process in Parliament looking marginally more radical than before. Although ‘radical’ is a relative term in a country with one of the most concentrated patterns of private land ownership in the world.  The new version of the Bill has further detail on the Land Rights and Responsibilities Statement and Scottish Land Commission, both of which are intended to ensure that land reform becomes entrenched as a permanent feature of Scottish public policy. Some headway has also been made on gleaning information about the control of land, although not as much as some land reformers would like.

The proposed guidance for landowners on community engagement will now incorporate a pick and mix of “relevant human rights”, potentially opening up enforcement possibilities regarding those who fail to adhere to it. Meanwhile the community right to buy to further sustainable development contained in Part 5 of the Bill can now be “the most practicable” way (rather than the “only practicable way”) to “prevent significant harm” to a community wishing to use it. Many will welcome that while simultaneously questioning why the new right cannot be made less onerous still for communities to use; akin to a simplified ‘crofting community right to buy’ that actually works. Continue reading

‘One Million Acres by 2020’: Strategy Report of the 1 Million Acre Short Life Working Group

Another week, another land reform-themed report. Hard on the heels of the RACCE Committee’s Stage 1 report on the Land Reform Bill comes ‘One Million Acres by 2020’, the strategy report of the Scottish Government-appointed 1 Million Acre Short Life Working Group. Its appearance is further indication of the extraordinary head of steam that land reform has picked up since publication of the Land Reform Review Group’s (LRRG) final report, ‘The Land of Scotland and the Common Good’ last year.

The genesis of ‘One Million Acres by 2020’ predates the LRRG’s report. Back in June 2013 the then First Minister, Alex Salmond, used his keynote speech at Community Land Scotland’s annual conference to announce a target of achieving 1 million acres of land in community ownership by 2020. That was unexpected news to most of the people in the audience at Sabhal Mor Ostaig in Skye that day. Rumour has it that it was unexpected news to at least some of Mr Salmond’s Civil Servants too. Continue reading