Setting an Example

My partner is an un-convicted thief, which means that unless I turn her in I am complicit in her crime. I am fairly relaxed, however, since there are mitigating circumstances: until recently, few people were aware that under the Coastal Protection Act of 1949 it is illegal to remove pebbles from public beaches. Therefore, while the attractive specimens that adorn her bookcases are technically stolen, we would argue that a sense of proportion is in order.

The news item that brought this issue to light concerns a man who was observed taking a bag of pebbles from a Cornish beach, then traced to his home in the Midlands (where I imagine he intended to strew them artistically around his patio border) and required to return them or face a fine of £1000. He returned them. I don’t know how anyone could identify them as the originals but that is possibly beside the point, since the pressing issue is one of environmental protection. The pebbles prevent the beach from being washed away by wave action, thus preserving it for the enjoyment of future generations – a laudable motive. However, there is an incidental consequence: the Council has since desecrated the beach in question with several ugly ‘intimidating’ signs warning would-be thieves of the consequences. Now, an argument rages locally over aesthetics versus proportionate response.

I am familiar with this dilemma in my own (communal) back yard, where the Council’s latest attempts to encourage residents to recycle rubbish has resulted in a display of large, colourful, diagrammatic signs depicting various types of trash. The reasoning behind this is sound: you don’t have to have reading skills in order to grasp the message. However, you do need to have the will to recycle which, unfortunately, some residents do not. Now, therefore, we have messy bins and unsightly signs. The answer to my frustration with this situation is probably the passage of time. As happened with the introduction of seat belts, the ban on drunken driving and smoking in public places, socially acceptable behaviour did become modified after a while, so that only sociopaths transgress these newly-adopted norms.

For this, I have high hopes of the coming generation – not that I know any of them intimately, since I am not a parent. The closest I get is being an uncle, albeit one whose engagement with his siblings’ offspring is remote and sporadic at best. (This may be the reason I feel awkward in the company of young adults, never quite sure whether easy familiarity or respectful reserve is appropriate). Nevertheless, I do hope and expect that they will come to see – either by observing the example set by their elders, or by the logical conclusion of their own rational thought processes – that it would be better for them in the long run if they put their recyclables in the appropriate bins. Of course, one must modify one’s hopes to take into account the fact that young people often resent authority, sometimes understandably. For example, one 17-year-old, whom I know, was apprehended recently and fined £50 for discarding a cigarette-end in the street. Given that she is funding her college tuition by working in McDonalds for a pittance, this is a very harsh punishment to bear and one that is likely at odds with its presumed goal of encouraging her to use a bin. She, like me, must have seen plenty of adults tossing their rubbish on the street. Young people need role models, adults they respect and to whom they can look for guidance on social behaviour.

With this in mind, perhaps it is time for my partner to consider undertaking a publicised tour of British beaches, restoring to them that which she has nicked – a sort of self-imposed community service that would send an exemplary message to our younger citizens.