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  • Time for new patterns

    Time for new patterns

    We see patterns. We think in patterns. We create patterns.

    A pattern is something that repeats. A drum beat. An oscillation.

    Patterns make things regular and therefore intelligible. Patterns help us predict what will happen next. Out of a sea of random events a pattern can feel like a life raft. Or pieces from which we can assemble together to create a boat.

    The OED says the word comes from the Middle English ‘patron’ meaning something to be followed.

    This is interesting. What if the patterns we are following are no-longer serving us? What if the drumbeat is no-longer leading us in the right direction. What if the oscillations are going out of control?

    Then we need to learn to see new patterns. We need to learn to think in new patterns. And we need to create new patterns.

    That is why at Constructivist I am starting to build the Pattern Book for Regenerative Design. It is a guide for engineers (and other humans) for thinking in new, regenerative patterns. At the moment it is lots of pieces, but my hope is that these pieces can be assembled to create a useful boat for designers to clamber aboard.

  • The joy of the ‘train classique’

    The joy of the ‘train classique’

    France is well-known for its TGVs. But there is a place in my heart for the ‘trains classiques’, the older, long-distance trains that still trundle round the older lines of France’s rail network.

    I like that they don’t go very fast. I don’t want to get there quickly today.

    I like how the seats are like sofas; ideal for napping.

    I like how they purr. There’s a deep whir that I feel in my stomach. I higher pitched whine that wibbles my nostrils. And when someone opens the end-of-carriage sliding doors, the loud waah that washes through the carriage, like an approaching TIE fighter.

    View of the Loire near Blois seen from the train windows

    I like the big windows (the opposite of the miserable arrowslits you get on Cross Country train services in the UK).

    I like all the unhurried journeys I’ve taken on these trains before, from one regional town to another. Often on holiday.

    I like the system of regionally-subsidised train networks (that these trains usually run on), which help keep trains running to remote parts of France.

    Photo showing cycle storage on Ouigo Trains Classiques – 2 bikes per carriage.

    I like the ample bike storage space – two reservable spots per carriage.

    I like how these routes are usually cheaper than the TGV.

    And I like how these older trains ply a sort of parallel, older network, of places in between or far from the big TGV stations. It somehow feels like more of an adventure.

    Want to ride on a train classique? Your best bet is to book a journey between destinations on the SNCF Intercités network – these are the trunk routes where TGVs don’t operate. Or, as we are doing today, travel on the Ouigo Trains Classiques network (these travel between Paris and Lyon and Paris and Nantes – both also served by TGV trains, but the Ouigos classique travel down the old slower routes.

    Read more about the train classique rolling stock.

  • Using ChatGPT to generate ideas

    Using ChatGPT to generate ideas

    In this post I share some initial thoughts on how using ChatGPT to generate ideas changes creative thinking for engineers, and other humans. 

    My simple model for idea generation is that an idea is simply a new connection between existing elements in the mind. It’s a practicable model giving us two things to think about in creativity. The first is what information do I have in mind when I am having my idea. The second is how do I form connections between these bits of information to create something new – to create an idea. 

    As James Webb Young describes in ‘A Technique for Having Ideas‘, the process is akin to using a kaleidoscope. The elements of information are the bits of glass at the end. Multiple shapes, colours and sizes. Turning the kaleidoscope causes the elements to rearrange. The new patterns we make are ideas.

    I call a kaleidoscope for having ideas a kalideascope. The process of building, filling and turning the kalideascope is a metaphor for designing an idea generation process.

    Using a kalideascope for generating ideas

    The first thing I get people in my training to think about when having ideas is what information they are putting into the process. I call this ‘filling the kalideascope’. There are two kinds of information we put into the kalideacope.  The first I refer to as ‘information in the moment‘. It includes information from a design brief, from site, from stakeholders, from colleagues and from precedent projects.

    The second kind of information we put into the kalideascope we can think of as information gathered over time. In other words from experience. From experience of living in the world, seeing it and thinking about it. Experience includes things we have done professionally. I also emphasise all the experiences we have had outside of work. The things that are unique to us. 

    The second part of the process is the forming of new connections. This is looking at things in new ways. Acting it out, asking what if and using your professional palette are three of my favourite techniques to teach. 

    These two processes – filling and turning the kalideacope – provide a simple framework for thinking about our idea generation process. 

    How does using ChatGPT to generate ideas change things?

    None of this creative process I described above needs a computer. But of course we have been using computers to enhance our creative process for decades. The internet gives us access to endless new information. And through our interactions online we can find a similarly endless stream of prompts to help us form new connections. 

    So how does using ChatGPT to generate ideas change things? Here are my initial thoughts.

    Availability versus accessibility of information

    When you forget someone’s name and it suddenly pops into your mind, that information suddenly becomes accessible. It was always there. Someone didn’t whisper it in your ear. The name was tucked away somewhere in your brain. In other words, the name was available. But something changed in that moment and all of a sudden it became accessible.

    ChatGPT uses the text-based content of the internet as its source of information. Via search, this information has always been accessible to us, but if we don’t know where to look, it is not available. ChatGPT has vastly increased the amount of accessible data. This does not mean that all information is available to us. But information on topics commonly published online is now much more accessible. 

    This means that whole new data sets can be brought into the creative process. It is as if the number of pieces in our kalideacope suddenly become many orders of magnitude bigger. 

    The potential for new patterns has vastly increased.

    New connections

    Gathering information is one part of the idea generation process. The other is forming new connections or associations. Humans are pattern-spotting animals, with a prefrontal cortexes especially evolved for the task. But just because we can spot patterns and have new ideas, doesn’t mean we can do it all the time. 

    Lots of my creativity training focuses on what to do when you have had one idea and can’t think of another. Various cognitive biases mean that we tend to prefer thinking about the ideas we have already had rather than think of new ones. My ‘ask what if’ technique is explicitly intended to overcome this creative tiredness. 

    But ChatGPT never gets tired. You can keep asking it generate new possibilities in response to a question.  

    Introducing the kalAIdeascope

    I think we need to rethink the kalideacope for the AI century.

    I am calling an AI-powered kaleidoscope for having ideas a kalAIdeascope. The process of building, filling and turning the kalAIdeascope is a metaphor for using artificial intelligence to help us generate ideas. This tool is available to currently available to everyone who has a decent internet connection. We have lots to learn about how to use it. 

    The process of building, filling and turning the kalAIdeascope is a metaphor for using artificial intelligence to help us generate ideas.

    Some final thoughts

    Judgement – None of the above says anything about how decide if an idea is any good. And that is how I teach creative thinking. Start with ’no’ turned off, and generate ideas. Then test the ideas for how well they work. How AI can support in the testing is a topic for another post.

    Spotify effect – I think my relationship to music degraded when I got Spotify. Suddenly the availability of most of the world’s recorded music on my phone at any time numbed my curiosity. What will be the impact of the accessibility of so much more information and ideas?

    What would Proust say? (see my previous writing on Proust) – his view was that the role of the artist is to express their inner world to the outside world. If more of our ideas are ‘externally’ generated, then I find myself even more drawn to what is going on in people’s inner worlds. 

    Finally, my thanks for Mary Stevens and Nick Francis for the many conversations over recent months on this topic that have prompted this post.

  • Vision for a regenerative programme of forestry and building maintenance at Hazel Hill Wood

    Vision for a regenerative programme of forestry and building maintenance at Hazel Hill Wood

    This afternoon I met with two trustees of Hazel Hill Wood to develop some ideas for a funding bid to support more regenerative use of timber to maintain our off-grid buildings. I said at the end of the call I’d write up some thoughts on a what a five-year plan could look like. Here is what I wrote down – stimulated by a very thought-provoking conversation with my excellent trustee colleagues. I’m putting it here rather than on the Hazel Hill website as this is by no means policy! Just a set of ideas, captured to enable further discussion.

    Five-year vision for developing Hazel Hill as a centre for regenerative forest management and traditional construction skills.

    At Hazel Hill Wood we have a unique combination of sustainably managed forest, off-grid buildings and a charity with a mission is to use timber from the wood as part of a regenerative cycle of building repair. Our ambition is to work with these gifts to increase local biodiversity and woodland thriving, build community resilience and wellbeing of all who come into contact with the wood.

    While we reach all of these ambitions to some extent through our current charitable activities, we see the opportunity to unlock greater benefits for the ecosystem and local community by establishing the wood as a centre for learning about how timber can be used as part of a regenerative local construction material. We describe this process as regenerative because it has the potential to have zero negative externalities: harvesting timber in the right places can actually increase woodland health and biodiversity; the timber we harvest can be used to re-establish a range of historical, rural practices, including coppicing, hurdle-making, horse-drawn timber extraction and traditional green-wood construction. Training local people in using these skills can help to enhance the rural economy while helping to maintain the heritage of local buildings. And the wellbeing of all is enhanced through extended contact with the living world through nature connection. 

    To shift to this mode of operation we envisage taking three phases over five years. 

    Phase one – from seed to seedling

    In this first phase we assess the state of the current system and create some of the infrastructure to enable this new activity to happen at the wood. 

    • Forest survey – establishing the health of the ecosystem, possible timber for harvest now and possible timber for future extraction and opportunities to enhance biodiversity through timber harvest.
    • Building survey – establishing the long-term maintenance needs and priorities of our heritage timber buildings.
    • Skills survey – understanding the local skills landscape and how training at Hazel Hill wood could enhance the local economy.
    • Re-establishing connection with rural construction tradespeople.
    • Creating working area – wood seasoning shed, tools shed and outdoor classroom
    • Initiation of volunteer programme for simple construction skills using timber in the forest.
    • Initial harvest of coppiced timber
    • Initial harvest of roundwood poles for seasoning.

    Phase two – from seedling to sapling

    In this phase we increase the scale of our regenerative work, starting to work with wood harvested and seasoned in Phase one while increasing our harvest of timber from the wood. In this phase we grow our education programme around how we see the wood and the buildings as part of a continuum, a process of which we are the stewards, adapting to the needs of the ecosystem and the people who we bring here to heal and learn through connection with the living world.

    • On-going habitat creation and monitoring in areas where timber has been harvested.
    • Maintenance forestry – In order to grow trees for timber, some tree pruning needs to be done to create timber of good quality. We need to develop local skills in how to plan and carry out tree maintenance.
    • Running courses in green wood construction skills.
    • Using seasoned, sawed timber to carry out major upgrades to the structure of our heritage buildings, including new decking for the Oak House and Forest Ark.
    • Invitation to other local crafts people to run training courses at our site.
    • Growing programme of volunteer activities engaged in a range of conservation and heritage construction projects.
    • Growing education programme, offering training in the thinking behind the regenerative principles on site.

    Phase three – from sapling to tree

    In this third phase the operations are more self-sustaining. The process of continuous cover forestry is well-established in the wood, with timber harvested at a rate of 1% per year providing a steady rate of firewood and construction materials for the charity as well as surplus for sale into the local economy. The programme of rural forestry and heritage construction skills training is self-sustaining and as well as bringing in revenue for the charity, is part of the active continuous maintenance of our unique heritage buildings. The site will be well known as a demonstrator project for regenerative principles that can be replicated more widely.

  • Experiments in limiting modal shift

    I’m enjoying listening to ‘World without Email‘ by Cal Newport. I’ve been an aficionado of inbox-management techniques for many years, but this book adds in new layers of systems and computer science understanding that I have found fascinating.

    The book is a critique of the ‘hyper-active hive mind’, the term he uses to describe the way many knowledge workers now interact with each other. I don’t plan to summarise his key points here; rather to chart an experiment I am running.

    I am interested in the idea of minimising modal shift, in other words, how often my brain flips from one activity to another. It is amazing how hard it is to stay focused on just one task, even if it is enjoyable. There are so many factors driving me towards the pull of distraction: the dopamine hit of a new message; the fear of social ostracisation if I don’t respond to a message; the design of the software itself leads me to distraction.

    As Newport describes, we slip into just firing off messages because it is so easy, but by doing so we use up the attention capital of everyone else. It is a case of the tragedy of the commons. Instead, he says, we need to do the hard work of inventing systems for how we should communicate more effectively for different tasks.

    Today I have enjoyed spending some time with Regenerative Design Lab co-convenor Ellie Osborne designing a process for short-listing, interviewing and finalising candidates for the next cohort of lab participants that requires the bare minimum use of our email inboxes. Features of the design are:

    • Agreeing where shared information can be stored – not in an email mailbox.
    • Finding tools to that enable candidates to book interview slots without the need for email back-and-forth.
    • Identifying in advance what things we might need to communicate about and booking in that conversation ahead of time, so that we can save queries for that exchange.

    Setting this system up hopefully means both of us can get on with arranging the interviews with minimal recourse to our email inboxes. And that should mean we can spend more time focusing on the design of the lab itself.

    I’ll report back on how the experiment went.

  • Reading the patterns from the regenerative design lab

    Reading the patterns from the regenerative design lab

    This week I am delving into the data we gathered from cohort one of the regenerative design lab. As I struggle to process reams of text my first job was to convert the text into post it notes of key points on Mural. Next I will start to pull out the key themes, but before I do I thought I would share the pleasing pattern this data makes.

  • Downhill to the weekend – time for writing

    I’m just noticing that I’m entering that perfect groove of Friday afternoon. I’ve stopped travelling for the week and I’m back at my desk. My head is buzzing with ideas from the week’s accumulated activities. I have got Fip.fr on the radio and for a precious few moments, there’s no barrier between me and the page.

    I talk quite often in my creativity training about finding the right moment to do the right kind of work. A few years ago I heard Tim Ferris interview Dan Pink about his book ‘When’. Pink was writing about trends in what kind of work suits what times of day for different people. If memory serves correctly, he was suggesting that for many people, the morning is a more analytical time, the early afternoon is a post-lunch slump (ideal in my mind for doing expenses) and the late afternoon and early evening are ideal for more creative thinking.

    He doesn’t say this is true of everyone, but says it is a common for many.

    In my thinking about regenerative design, the idea of working with living cycles comes up often. I see this tuning into what work suits what time of day as another manifestation of this idea of a living cycle. Right now as I settle into my Friday afternoon groove I know that I’m working with the cycle, everything aligns and it is little extra effort to carry on moving forwards.

    For me the questions are: where are we working with the direction of a system and when are we working against it. Sometimes we need to against the flow to make change. But working constantly against the flow is hard work and comes with an energy cost that one day we must repay.

    The only problem I have with listening to Fip.fr in the afternoon is that the times are in French and every so often I forget and think it is one hour later than it really is.

  • An experiment in foundational capital

    Last year I read about foundational capital in Lean Logic. It’s the idea of the capital that systems depend upon to live. For us Earthlings it’s clean air and water, a thriving biosphere, sufficient minerals. But it can also be intangible things: trust, knowledge, peace. In an extractive economy, we seek to mine these resources and use them to create a financial surplus. This financial surplus we can then invest to invest in growth. But not growth of the foundational capital, but growth of the business. In this model the foundational capital is repeatedly depleted. This extraction works for a while so long as there remains sufficient foundational capital, but at some point the foundational capital is so reduced that it can no longer support life.

    The idea of investing financial surplus is so ingrained that it is hard to imagine alternative models. As a business owner, I feel it myself: the instinctive thing to do with any profit the business makes is to invest in growth of the business.

    But we can see an alternative approach in more traditional approaches that seek to re-noursish the growing environment with each harvest. For example, I have heard permaculture teachers talk about sharing the harvest three ways: one part for me; one part for the community; one part for the soil. That final third is left to rot on the the plant to return nutrients to the ground. Contrast this to a more extractive approach, which would harvest all the fruit, leaving the ground more depleted. More profit but less foundational capital.

    Last year I thought how could I experiment with this idea at Constructivist Ltd. A traditional business approach would be to charge clients as much as possible to run training. But that sets our aims against the aims of our clients. The more we can extract, the more profit we can make and the more our clients are depleted.

    Another way to look at things is to say that if we’ve made a profit this year it’s by charing our clients more than we needed to. What is the equivalent of returning this harvest to the ground? Well we could return the extra fees. Another approach is to use the funds to support the flourishing in some way of those organisations that are our clients, which we depend on. The latter option is easy to administer, but the bigger reason I prefer it that it isnon-financial exchange. It is specific, rather than interchangeable (non-fungible), building interconnections and therefore the capacity for feedback. It is also greater than zero-sum (a topic for another post).

    Since most of our work with clients involves direct collaboration with individuals, we decided to return the surplus to the system by running a regenerative thinking retreat at Hazel Hill Wood for this group of individuals. Much like the work done in winter by soil-plant systems – quietly, underground – this gathering deepened connections, allowed knowledge to be exchanged, repaired damage from the last season of growth. In other words, fed the foundational capital of the system we are in and set the scene for a new season of growth on a more resilient grounding.

    In regenerative design we are seeking to create thriving socio-ecological systems. By noticing foundational capital we can start to tune in to how the projects and processes we are involved with deplete or nourish foundational capital. And we can start to think about how to design systems that aim to grow this capital.

  • Regenerative Design Tetris Blocks

    There’s lots of regenerative design thoughts bubbling around between my ears. I often get to a point in my creative process where I feel I can’t write something down because I haven’t written down the previous thing. But I can’t wait to write down the foundation stuff because the new ideas keep coming in. Like blocks in Tetris, they are soon gonna bump again the ceiling of my head. Time to clear some of the shapes in my head and store them here in case they are useful. In my out-tray are:

    Stand by for posts on these.

  • Patterns versus words

    Patterns versus words

    In my exploration of regenerative design I’m often struck by how language is a barrier to exploring regenerative thinking. I can see two things at play here. The first that we may not have the words to fully describe what we imply by regenerative design. The second is that defining being regenerative using the terms of the growth-extraction paradigm (ie our current economic pattern) risks keeping the whole philosophy bound by that original pattern.

    In my application to become an 1851 Regenerative Design Fellow I said I wanted to create a ‘pattern book’ for understanding regenerative design. It was an idea that drew on pattern books in manufacture and it was also a nod to the new pattern for construction that Joseph Paxton ushered in with his sketch for Crystal Palace. But it was also an acknowledgment that words alone may not be enough.

    This week I’m reading ‘The Patterning Instinct’ by Jeremy Lent. As he puts it

    The idea that language- and its corresponding cultural framework – affects the way we think is a key premise of this book.

    Jeremy Lent

    In it he described how humans create new words to describe a particular set of ideas. My example might be the word ‘optioneering’ (which I I dislike but hear often). In one word we combine the ideas of there being a set of options, that they are assessed, and that this be done in a systematic way. Once this new word is developed it is far easier to use it than to create a different term to link together these ideas.

    These words are a way to make thinking easier. All the wisdom of these ideas combined into a single word. Our language is built up of multiple layers of words that contain ideas of deep cultural meaning. This can make it hard to change the way we think. Our existing words are already doing lots of conceptual work and new words have to work hard for adoption if they go against the grain.

    Lent situates his work in the domain of neo-Whorfian linguistics, which takes as it’s starting premise that the way we speak affects how we think.

    The weak-Whorfian approach says that some thinking patterns can be changed by changing the language that we use.

    These insights lead me to think that there may be more to the idea of a pattern book than I had realised. I foresee patterns as a way to transcend words that may be locking us into a certain way of thinking. If so could we use a set of patterns to communicate regenerative design? That’s what I’m thinking about.

    As Lent writes later (pg213)

    If our cultural inheritance compels us to think in certain ways – strong Whorfianism – then there’s nothing we can do about it. If, however, our cultural framing merely encourages us to think in certain patterns – weak Whorfianism – then, by becoming conscious of those patterns, we may have the power to change them.

    Jeremy Lent
  • Workshop: things to think and feel about a design brief

    Workshop: things to think and feel about a design brief

    I was in Cambridge again yesterday to deliver the second workshop in a new cycle of material on conceptual design for the Interdisciplinary Design for the Built Environment Masters programme.

    This cycle of teaching starts with the unpicking what is a design brief. I called it things to think and feel about a design brief because there are skills we need to understand a brief, but it is helpful to question our whole attitude towards what a design brief is.

    A brief can sound like something that is fixed. But I see it more as a signal of intent. Design is a journey of discovery. If it doesn’t involve discovery, it isn’t design. And so, like with any exploratory journey, we can have an intent for setting off, but what we find on the way can and should inform the direction of travel.

    In this workshop we discuss the Designer’s Paradox and the 5 Elements of a Brief, and then we delve into how we can use the brief to test the quality of our ideas. And, critically, how to do it quickly – not with the benefit of multi-dimensional analysis, but with sufficient confident to admit an idea into the domain of the possible.

  • A myriad of questions about regenerative design

    In my post earlier last week I made the case for regenerative design as a response to the range of systemic ecological, social and climatic challenges that we are facing. As soon as we start talking about regenerative design, a myriad of questions pop up. 

    After six months of co-facilitating the first Constructivist Regenerative Design Lab, I can see these questions settling into three categories. Sorting these questions into groups hopefully gives us a way through them. They are as follows:

    • What do we mean by regenerative design?
    • How do we do it?
    • How do we create the conditions for it to happen?

    I find this separation brings clarity. The first question sets the terms for the answer to the next two. Regenerative design requires a conceptual leap – a paradigm shift in how we see our role as designers. It requires us to think very differently about how design works. It is likely to feel very inconvenient, not to mention counter-cultural, which is why it is important we separate the question of what we are trying to achieve from the ‘how’. I have seen that when we start the conversation with ‘how’, then the concept gets watered down.

    When we can be clear about our aims – and I think the literature is clear, although the concepts are not widely enough understood for them to be mainstream yet – we can start to think about how we do it.

    The answers to questions two and three are likely to be iterative and related. Gaining the opportunity to do regenerative design will inform practice; practice will enable more chances to make the case for regenerative design.

    More blog posts about regenerative design

    Right here

    My work on regenerative design is generously supported by the Royal Commission for the Exhibition of 1851. Read more about my Fellowship in Regenerative Design.

  • The incredible system that will save us

    Good news. There is an incredible system that can save humanity and will enable us to thrive on planet Earth.

    Here’s how it works. 

    • It is entirely powered by the effect of the sun and the moon.
    • Using simple elements it can establish itself in new locations and in a few iterations it can rapidly scale up, complexifying and adapting to meet its operating conditions. 
    • The system produces no waste at all – all outputs from one process are inputs to others.
    • It creates incomprehensibly complex structures from a small palette of abundant, local materials.
    • The system purifies and circulates water. 
    • It keeps the air in the atmosphere breathable, and maintains levels of greenhouse gases at a level appropriate for system survival.
    • It even screens out harmful rays from the sun.
    • It creates food and nutrients.
    • It even creates abundant construction materials.
    • The system has built-in resilience to enable it to respond to shocks. 
    • It has the capacity to learn and to develop new designs. These designs are optimised to ensure the health of the whole system, not just the individual element within it.

    It is the system of life in the biosphere of planet Earth. If we step back and think about it, there is no system that humans have created that can compete in terms of its resilience, life-giving potential and ability to adapt. 

    This life giving system is out there, it surrounds us, and it is still just about intact. This is good news.

    There is more good news. 

    We, human beings, have been evolved as part of that system, and it is interwoven with us. As I heard fellow Regenerative Design Fellow Michael Pawlyn describe, there are more microbial cells than human cells in our bodies. So there is no meaningful separation between us and this system. 

    And if all parts of the system have evolved to increase the health of the system, then we too have been created by that system to fulfil a role. 

    So, there is this incredible life giving system that we are in extricable part of. So far so good.

    Now some not so good news. Since the Enlightenment, in the Global North we have started to see ourselves as separate from that system. That same school of thought which used reason to take power away from the divine, placed rational ‘man’ at the top of the hierarchy of life. 

    We became separate the system and then we started exploiting it. Initially the system had enough elastic capacity to respond to the damage being rendered by its human population.

    But having become separated from that wider living system ourselves, we no-longer paid attention to the feedback loops that might otherwise have limited our behaviour.

    Enraptured by our our own reason, we lost sight of the incredible power of the capacity of the wider living world to heal us, for it to be important for us, and so we devalue it even more. Dazzled by the spectacle of our own creations, we lose sight of the incredible, overwhelming, delicate, powerful and fragile system that we are part of.

    Now to the really bad news.

    We are like engineers working for a foolish developer who asks us to take bricks out of the foundations to build extra storeys at the top. We have extracted, depleted and destroyed so much of this system that it is about to collapse. Without this life-giving support system, we stand little chance of surviving on this rock in the solar system. 

    And so, what do we do now? Clearly we need to revive the health of our life-support system.

    We can think of our ailing living system on planet Earth as a sick patient displaying multiple symptoms. Without being doctors, we can probably see that if we treat one symptom at a time we may never treat the underlying cause of the disease. Holistic medicine in contrast seeks to consider factors that enable the health of the whole person. Things like diet, sleep, exercise, living environment. Adjusting these factors to increase overall patient health can increase the patient’s ability to respond to illness. Long-term observation of the patient can help work out what factors are having the best effect. 

    This approach recognises the body as a complex system that is not fully knowable and so needs cycles of careful intervention and observation. This approach also recognises that when this system is thriving it is much more resilient and therefore able to respond to shocks and recover. 

    Applying this same logic to the living system on planet earth, if we can enable the conditions within which it can flourish again, then the system can do what it needs to heal. The questions we should be asking are what are the equivalents to diet, sleep, exercise and living environment for our living system on Earth, and what can we do adjust these conditions to bring the system back into a healthy state?

    Creating the conditions for flourishing is an example of intervening higher in the system. Rather than treating the individual elements in the system we are seeking to change the relationships that dictate how the system behaves. 

    But there is one fundamental relationship that we need to change. And that is the one between humans and the rest of the living world. Its decline has led to our almost total separation from the ecosystem that supports us – physically, culturally, psychologicically and in relation to our concept of power. 

    In the analogy above we treated the Earth’s living systems as a patient that we are treating. To change that fundamental relationship between humans and this wider living system, we have to see ourselves as the patient. We are part of that living system. We are inextricably linked to it. When it is healthy, we are healthy. When it is sick, we are sick. 

    So, how can we conclude this news bulletin?

    • We are part of an incredible system. 
    • If we want to heal it we need to treat it holistically. 
    • We need to rediscover our role – not as controllers, not all-seers, but as a unique part of the system that can help the system bounce back and change course where it needs to. 
    • We are new on the planetary scene. We have evolved incredible brain powers, very recently we have seen that, used unwisely, our powers can be hugely destructive, but re-tuned to the system we have evolved in, humans could add terrific resilience to our living world. 
    • If we can create the conditions for the system to thrive, then the system will take care of the rest.
    • And if we help it thrive we will, by dint of being part of that system, be thriving too.

    More blog posts about regenerative design

    Right here

    My work on regenerative design is generously supported by the Royal Commission for the Exhibition of 1851. Read more about my Fellowship in Regenerative Design.

  • Regenerative design as a response to the systemic challenges we face

    In the construction industry we are focused on tackling anthropogenic carbon emissions. But this focus misses two wider points. 

    Firstly, that the climate crisis is just one of a series of outcomes of wider system collapse. Others include massive species loss, social injustice, health, war. 

    Secondly, that the restoration of our biosphere could tackle all of these crises. A thriving socio-ecological system would sequester carbon at the same time as reducing emissions, would create the conditions for a great return of dwindling species, create the conditions for a more socially just society, in which humans can be healthy and thrive. And in which we are not competing with each other for resources.

    So why don’t we just get on with the mission of restoring habitats ourselves?  

    The problem is that setting ourselves that mission does nothing to change the fundamental relationship between humans and the wider living world. 

    Since the Enlightenment, in the Global North we have come to see the living world as something that we can fully know and control. But what we can now see is that the net outcome of humankind’s intervention in the living world is system degredation. 

    From systems theory, we know that if you want to change the outcome of a system, you need to change the rules and relationships in it. 

    As we witness the collapse of our life-supporting ecosystem as a consequence of our actions, many people are starting to realise that it is our relationship to the living world that is at the heart of the problem. Unless we tackle that, and therefore the actions we take as humans, the system will continue to collapse. 

    Instead of seeing ourselves as controllers of nature – separate to nature, what if we instead saw ourselves as part of a wider living system, and having the unique capacity to unlock the potential of that system. In this framing humans act like a keystone species, one that has a disproportionately positive benefit on its ecosystem – a species that increases the potential of all to thrive around it. 

    It is in this philosophy that regenerative design is framed. Regenerative design seeks to intervene at a socio-ecological system level (in other words, the system that includes people and wider living world) to increase the capacity of that system to survive, thrive and evolve.

    By adopting a regenerative approach, we fundamentally change our relationship to the rest of the system – with the aim of changing overall system behaviour, from one of system collapse to one of system thriving.

    When our socio-ecological system is thriving, carbon is sequestered in soils, plants and oceans, species can recover, our use of resources stays within the renewable limits of the local system, resilience returns to our living system, social injustice by definition disappears and the health of our population improves.

    We don’t have to solve these problems one by one – nor can we. Instead we need to create the conditions within which our socio-ecological system can flourish, and these other benefits will follow.

    Regenerative design provides the lens for seeing how we can intervene in a way that seeks to work with life-giving capacity of living systems, and in doing so, transforming our role from instigators of collapse to a keystone species that unlocks living potential. 

    More blog posts about regenerative design

    Right here

    My work on regenerative design is generously supported by the Royal Commission for the Exhibition of 1851. Read more about my Fellowship in Regenerative Design.

  • Targets for regenerative design

    Rather than look at a design process and ask ‘is that regenerative’, I find it more insightful to look for where a design process is enabling a living system to thrive and adapt. 

    The advantage of this approach is that it enables us to find regenerative qualities to the design work that we are already doing. (This is an example of looking for the future in the present, one of the techniques in the Three Horizons approach). 

    So for instance, we can look at where an abundant local, natural material is being used as a part of a new structure and we can see that it is enabling of many of the qualities of a thriving living system:

    • Use of abundant renewable materials
    • Feedback – connection between people and the resources they depend upon, building local resilience. 
    • Self-organisation – design that uses local materials better lends itself to local adaptation.
    • Appropriate structure – in this case a smaller scale supply chain that can adapt according to material availability. 

    Design that enables these qualities  of a thriving living system to emerge is regenerative. 

    But what if those renewable elements are only a decorative feature on the front of a brand new building made of virgin, non-renewable materials, then is that design process regenerative?

    Instinctively the regenerative design elements feel massively outweighed by the degenerative design of the superstructure. And there is an emergent risk here that regenerative ‘elements’ will be introduced to a project as a cover up for business-as-norma.

    But getting into assessing how regenerative something is feels like an intellectual trap that misses the point. 

    The goals remain to massively increase the health of the biosphere at the same time as reversing the anthropogenic release of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.

    The point about regenerative design is that it gives us a means to achieve these aims in a holistic way. 

    The real question is not how regenerative the design process is, but how has the overall process contributed to meeting these global goals.

    That isn’t to say we should celebrate regenerative processes where we see them – we can learn a great deal from what people are already doing, and by sharing these stories we can start to build a regenerative culture that enables more regenerative design in the future.

    More blog posts about regenerative design

    Right here

    My work on regenerative design is generously supported by the Royal Commission for the Exhibition of 1851. Read more about my Fellowship in Regenerative Design.

    My work on regenerative design is generously supported by the Royal Commission for the Exhibition of 1851. Read more about my Fellowship in Regenerative Design.

  • Workshop: Planning for learning – IDBE, University of Cambridge

    Workshop: Planning for learning – IDBE, University of Cambridge

    I was in Cambridge today to teach my first of four workshops this academic year on the Interdisciplinary Design for the Built Environment Masters programme.

    Part of my teaching bookends the course, with a workshop in week on planning for learning and a workshop in the final week on planning for practice. For the rest I feed in models for understanding the design process that students can use in their studio projects. 

    In this first workshop I introduce my Continuous Design diagram as a common framework for talking about design interventions. The Continuous Design diagram emphasises the continuous cycle of observing, intervening, observing, intervening that we need to do when we are making changes in complex systems. 

    We use this diagram to help participants design a learning journey for themselves. It is a good way to think about what your learning goals are, how you could achieve them and how you will know you are on track. 

    I conclude the workshop with an introduction to action learning and I lead participants through the Action Learning Proforma which I developed with Søren Willert a few years ago now.

    Continuous Design diagram

    Continuous Design Diagram by Oliver Broadbent (2021). The diagram shows a loop with four stages: Reflect/brief; Ideas; Make/model; and Test/observe

    This is only the third or fourth time I’ve used the Continuous Design diagram. I see its greatest strength as emphasising the cyclical nature of design, which becomes even more important as we start to think about how to design more regeneratively. 

    This was a particularly lovely day to be teaching in Cambridge. The morning was fresh. I enjoyed having breakfast in the hall at Selwyn College. By lunchtime things had warmed up and I enjoyed sitting for a few minutes by a tributary of the Cam, watching the clear water babble by.

    I am looking forward to returning in December when we will explore what a design brief is in more detail.

  • Notes from the Île de Ré

    Notes from the Île de Ré

    Our summer tour continues. From Batz-sur-Mer we took a TER train to Nantes. No cycle reservation necessary. And then from Nantes, an Intercité train to La Rochelle. This is the only service on our whole tour for which we did need a cycle reservation. At this point in the Tour I am now preferring the idea of having to make a reservation because at least you are guaranteed a place. Of course what we need is much more provision on trains for bikes.

    From La Rochelle station we cycled straight through the old town, out of town and over the magnificent Île de Ré viaduct to the island where we would be staying for six nights. The following are selected Eiffel Over highlights.

    Île de Ré bridge

    View from the island side of the Île de Ré viaduct

    This is the 2.9km bridge linking the mainland to the Ile de Ré. Get all the facty stuff here from Wikipedia.

    • I find its curve on plan as well as on elevation very graceful.
    • There is a segregated cycle path which is a much better way to cross than to sit in a 2.9km jam with all the cars.
    • Very elegant columns too.
    • Impressive to see this structure marching out across the sea.
    • A significant portion of the tolls are spent on improving transport infrastructure on the island – see below.

    Cycling on Île de Ré

    Cycling between vineyards on the Île de Ré

    The local authority has invested heavily in promoting cycling on the island to the extent that it is a victim of it’s own success. There is a very comprehensive network of cycle lanes crossing the island. And these are very crowded in places because they are so popular. It is as if the island could do with doubling again the cycle infrastructure.

    Stone fishing ‘écluses’

    The dry stone wall of an écluse can just be seen arcing out to sea in the top left of this picture from the Île de Ré.

    For centuries it has been traditional to build tidal lagoons on the beaches that fill with water at high tide and then which slowly drain at low tide, enabling local fishers to scoop up the fish left behind. The lagoons are created by building a large circular dry-stone wall on the tidal flat. Local laws forbid the use of concrete – these walls are carefully built by hand and maintained to create this once important source of food. Their French name is ‘écluses’, the same word for a lock on a canal.

    In the eighteenth century local officials destroyed the écluses to stop this source of food and forcing local men to sign up to join the navy.

    More unbelievably, in the second half of the twentieth century, the commercial fishing industry lobbied to have them destroyed again so that they wouldn’t eat in to potential markets for commercial fishing.

    In recent years there has been an effort to repair some of the écluses. We saw some people fishing in the one shown above at low tide.

    Like the salt flats they are an example of infrastructure managed in common to create an honourable harvest – to use Robin Wall Kimmerer’s term – from the local ecosystem.

    Final thoughts on the Île de Ré

    The Île de Ré is a fascinating place but the early August heat was almost unbearable and the summer crowds relentless – although in the further reaches of the island where M explored there were places where no one was to be seen. There is lots to find out about how people have lived in this island. And not just humans. For instance, two thirds of European bird species have been spotted here, it being a major stopping off point for migration. The sea life is also fascinating to explore at low tide.

    The visit makes me want to visit more wild islands. Maybe ones that are not connected by bridge to the mainland.

    After six days we were ready to cycle back over the bridge and head on south.

  • The Great Elephant – Les Machines de L’Île

    The Great Elephant – Les Machines de L’Île

    The highlight of our visit to Nantes was standing next to the Great Elephant as it set off for one its walks around the former dock yards. The 45-tonne steel and wood sculpture is part of the Machines de L’Île creations. At the centre is the workshop where engineer-artists create mechanical creatures that replicate real animal movements. The concept is that the creatures escape from the workshop to create the exhibits around the dockyard site.

    I find the whole place a wonderful combination of humour, heart, engineering, spectacle and wonder and reverence for creatures big and small. Definitely worth a 3 star engineering detour.

  • Salt harvesting in Brittany – engineering and commoning

    Salt harvesting in Brittany – engineering and commoning

    Salt has been harvested in the bay between Le Croisic and Guérance on the edge of Brittany for centuries. The industry had been in decline but in more recent decades has started to grow again with the local attainment of a ‘red label’ quality status for its salt products.

    We had the privilege of getting a tour of the salt beds with my old friend from Paris days, Ronan when we stayed with his family in the house he grew up in in Batz-sur-Mer. It was a welcome two-day stop on our Summer Tour.

    As Ronan explained:

    • At high tide, sea water flows into reservoirs that stock the water for the day of salt harvesting.
    • This salt water is then directed by an intricate network of channels to blocks of salt beds.
    • Each salt bed is about the size of a typical English allotment. In a salt bed the water from the channels flows in and the flow reduced to almost a stand-still.
    • During the heat of the day, the water evaporates and salt crystals form. There are two salt products: the purer ‘fleur de sel’, which accumulates on the surface; and the darker ‘sel gris’ which accumulates on the bottom.
    • Morning and evening salt harvesters walk out to their salt beds and gently scrape the two types of salt out of the beds and pile them up on the side. Single bed can produce a wheelbarrow-full every day in high summer.
    • The salt harvesters transfer their salt to larger communal salt piles, which are then taken to the town cooperative.
    • Individuals and families have harvesting rights over a specific beds.

    I find the salt beds a fascinating example of engineering and commoning. This is a common resource which requires shared infrastructure to harvest. What we take out is bountiful, but requires a shared responsibility for preserving the purity of the resource. Similar to the water irrigation channels that I saw in Mirenna in Spain many years ago.

    The salt beds also create wonderful colours. The colour depends on the salt concentration and the angle of the sun.

    A group of salt beds at Batz-sur-Mer
    The morning’s harvest of fleur de sel is gathered up against the wall
    The individual harvests are collected together
    The colours of a salt bed
    Map of the salt beds of Batz-sur-Met
    The very slow flow of water through the salt beds – watch carefully.

  • Champtoceaux to Nantes – reflections on Loire à vélo

    Champtoceaux to Nantes – reflections on Loire à vélo

    The last leg of our journey along the Loire à Vélo cycle route, à 35km flat run into Nantes. It was misty as we covered the early morning ground, keen to get to Nantes with enough time to wander around the Machines de l’Île. After breakfast in uninspiring Mauves sur Loire, the feel of the cycle path changes: it is more like we are cycling through a city park. We are in the outskirts of Nantes.

    We arrive at Nantes train station, which has a new terminal built high across the tracks with tree shaped columns beneath that splay out into oak-tree like branches within the concourse to provide shade for the travellers.

    Reflections on Orléans to Nantes via the Loire à Vélo

    We were using the cycle route more as a means of getting from Paris to the Atlantic coast rather than planning a dedicated trip to do the Loire à vélo route – and while I thought it would be fun I enjoyed it even more than I expected.

    • The Loire is much wilder than say the Rhone or the Garonne. It is not used as a major inland shipping route and so feels less industrialised. The water is able to follow a more natural course as reflected in the various channels that weave their way through the landscape, and the sand banks that are a haven for birds.
    • That said there are levées to cycle along, albeit set back so that the flow is less interrupted, and these are great to cycle along.
    • My favourite sections were when the levee road is quiet, and we are able to get some speed up while watching the river landscape change in the channel below.
    • My least favourite where the river approaches a city. Tours in particular seemed to have turned its back on its rivers.
    • There is a great atmosphere on the path. You meet cyclists going the length of the Loire à vélo path, and some beyond towards Basel and towards the Black Sea.
    • The riverside guinguettes were great to stumble across and make the most of to eat at en route or chill out at in the evening.
    • I wouldn’t bother visiting the out-of-town chateaux. They represent an accumulation of wealth extracted from the local landscape and local people that is somehow not reconciled, not addressed. Just a place to drive to. The middle of town chateaux of Blois and Amboise are a bit more connected to the towns, are more interesting and don’t require a detour.
    • The route is well signposted, there’s lots of campsites en route. The highlights were the Slow Village in Pont de Cé, and wild camping under the stars.

    Onward journey

    We are now leaving the Loire à vélo cycle path and making a little detour out to Batz sur Mer in Brittany before heading south by train towards the Ile de Ré, cycling to Arcachon, train to Biarritz, then making our way by some means or another to Santander in Northern Spain.

  • Ponts de Cé to Champtoceaux

    Ponts de Cé to Champtoceaux

    A day for integrated travel! 70km from Ponts de Cé to Ancenis, and then 10km by kayak, our bikes carried to the downstream dock in a van, then cycling up the final 2km out of the valley and into our warm-showers accommodation in Champtoceaux.

    I remember a forward to a Department for Transport report in which John Prescott set out his vision for ‘integrated transport’, journeys made possible by joining together different modes of travel. I’ve always liked this idea, but I try to mix it with a bit of the spirit of adventure of Jules Vernes and Around the World in 80 Days. Mixing cycling and kayaking definitely fits into this category.

    We ate breakfast at a riverside market at Bouchedemaine, where the Maine river joins the Loire. We’ve skirted Angers, but all the surrounding places we’ve visited have been so friendly that I imagine I’d like the city too.

    We really had to get the kilometres in early today to get to the kayak in time. This is the first time we’ve really had to cycle in tight convoy to keep the pace up and stay motivated that we are covering the ground.

    At Saint Florient, I saw this plaque showing distances measured from the bridge. It was created at the start of a period of measuring and controlling the Loire after devastating floods. Measure it, control it, exert power over it. Except compared to other big rivers I’ve seen in France, the Loire still feels quite wild. Not the freight transport artery I was expecting.

    At Ancenis we see our first major suspension bridge across the river. This is where M & I crossed the Loire on our first cycle trip in France from Saint Malo to Agen in 2008.

    We rendezvous with the kayaks and head downstream. Wonderful to be in and on the water, travelling with the flow. The current is strong but it is safe to moor up behind the groynes that reach out into the river and create little beaches behind. We climb out on a beach and swim for the first time in the warm river water.

    A stop at a guinguette, recover our bikes, then do the final climb to our hosts for the evening, a lovely couple who welcomed us to their self-built home, where we camped next to their guinea pigs. We stayed up talking about their travels with a trailer and a tandem through Sardinia, Scilly, Greece and the Adriatic, and then about how they built their house.

  • Saumur to Ponts de Cé

    Saumur to Ponts de Cé

    The next leg of our cycle trip along the Loire took us from Saumur to Ponts de Cé, a town a little south of Angers.

    Again the river landscape has changed here. Now wider, another notch up in scale. The islands are longer. The curves more sweeping.

    The Loire downstream of Saumur

    As the cycle path was getting a little bumpy we decided to cycle in convoy along the fast road that follows the top of the flood dyke. This was to be a strategy we used more and more to cover the kilometres on longer stages of our ride. We had roughly 60km to cover and we wanted to get most of them done by lunchtime.

    Much of the riverbed is dry, with the flow restricted to one part of the channel.

    We can start to predict where good watering holes will be by seeing in the distance where the river crossings are. We had a refreshing stop by this typical truss bridge.

    We arrived in Ponts de Cé early afternoon and made our way to the very relaxed and comfortable Slow Village campsite. It was a relief to reach our destination before the heat of the day reached its maximum. A chance to do some washing, repack, chill out.

    A had a typical altercation with a swimming pool attendant who found my swimming shorts not stretchy enough to conform to the swimming rules. Mysteriously my well-used cycle shorts were perfectly acceptable.

    We spent the evening at the best guinguette so far of our trip. Good food and wine at reasonable prices and friendly staff. After dinner we walked out across the dry river bed to channel on the other side and waded in the warm waters.

  • Cher-Loire confluence to Saumur

    Cher-Loire confluence to Saumur

    The one night we decided to sleep with out a tent and it rained. Only a few spots at around 5am, but enough to wake me and wonder if we should abandon camp. It was still dark. I decided to hope for the best and go back to sleep. Half-an-hour later we were woken by torch lights. This time fishers hoping to find a quiet spot for an early stint with the rod. I think were as surprised by them as they were by us. We got up and watched the dawn light up the water for two hours.

    We cycled 10km to find breakfast, the morning still a welcome cool temperature and overcast. We were happy to reach Bréhemont, perched on the dyke above a sweep in the Loire. Since the confluence with the Cher the river has changed character. A bit wider with sand banks that make great habitats for birds. We saw bird watchers along the banks with their telescopes.

    The next section of path passes through a reforested area of land between the dyke and the river. Long ago the river borders were marshy woodlands that would flood several times a year. The marshes were drained to make agricultural land but now the terrain is being left to return to rich woodland. The space is cool and lush. We followed an enormous bird of prey which glided down the cycle path ahead of us through the trees.

    Boos Chetif- Marc Jacquet

    Lunch in Avoine, a great example of a town that has invested in its public spaces to create an environment that attracts visitors and supports civic life as well. A lovely town square, well appointed with cafe, tabac, supermarket, boulangerie and street market. Spaces for parking bikes and doing maintenance. A water feature.

    We cross the Indre river, a tributary of the Loire, and enter the valley of the next tributary, the Vianne. We find a friendly looking campsite, very laid back with furniture out by the river, and we wade in the Vianne’s waters- colder than the Cher last night.

    Approaching Saumur, we climb up the valley sides to the plateau above where the regions famous grapes are grown. The path then winds down again and suddenly takes you underground into a recently-restored subterranean village. Not long ago the village high street was in a deep canyon in the limestone. The shops were in eroded and excavated caves to either side. Plants hung down from above, adding additional shade to prevent the sun overhead from heating the space too much. After the heat of the hills the space was so refreshingly cool.

    These incredible underground spaces are from the past but they could be the future too. All around us the signs of a climate heating up are increasingly obvious. It feels almost unbearable to be out in the midday sun and yet here is a way to live in the cool in the hottest place in the valley that uses just the shade and the coolness of the earth to create habitable conditions.

    As if to emphasise the impact of climate heating locally, we cycled out of the underground village and almost immediately into a bone-try forest. But this isn’t the south of France, it’s the middle bit. This is not normal.

    In Saumur we camped on the island in the middle of town. Camp sites on islands in rivers close to big towns seems to be a common format of civic infrastructure in France. Perhaps it is common more widely to European countries with wide rivers running through them. I enjoy being able to step out from your tent, cross the bridge and absorb the evening atmosphere.

    The strange feeling we had though in Saumur is of a place that is in the middle of a heat crisis but no one seems to mind. As long as the wine is cold.

  • Amboise to the Cher Loire confluence

    Amboise to the Cher Loire confluence

    We left Amboise, climbed the out of the valley of the Loire and over into the Cher, which runs parallel to the Loire and would be what we followed for the rest of the day. First stop le chateau de Chenonceau, which is sits across a river on arches. I always thought this would be my favourite of the Loire chateau but again I felt disappointed. I think mainly because it so heaving with visitors, which, obviously we are too. (are you stuck in traffic or are you traffic?)

    We knew we would have a hot day of cycling. 70km to our destination. We could see the city of Tour from afar, and the river gradually widened as we approached. Tour sits between the Cher and the Loire rivers but largely seems to ignore them both. We found it hard even to find a place to leave the river path and get up over the levee. We cycled into town hot and hungry and ended up eating expensive pizza. It’s one of those situations where you feel like you haven’t quite got this right and you pay through the nose for it.

    I was pleased at least to have seen Tours, with its medieval centre. One of those places that I’m unlikely to visit again so pleased at least to be able to have put a brief experience to the name. But I was pleased to leave too. The way out, like the way in was not trop évident.

    We cycled through the afternoon heat. We found our way to Savionières which had a ganguette. Coffee and ice cream while we waited for the heat to pass.

    We were due to be staying in a garden further downstream, arranged through Warmshowers.com but as we cycled along we noticed a quiet, picturesque sweep in the river and wondered if we could wild camp. We picked our way through the trees and discovered we were at the point where the Cher river joins with the Loire. There was a beach we could swim off and a shelter point to sleep. We didn’t even need to put up a tent.

    S and I went swimming in the Cher. The flow in the Loire looked a bit fast so we didn’t venture into its waters. Bright green frogs leapt out of the undergrowth. The water was so warm. Overhead egrets patrolled the skies and waded in the water. Opposite a whole herd of cows came down to the water and waded in the shallows. We fell asleep to the sight of bats a few metres overhead and the occasional rattle of trains on the Tours Nantes line crossing the viaduct opposite.

  • Muides sur Loire – Blois – Amboise

    Muides sur Loire – Blois – Amboise

    The second day of cycling along the Loire. A relatively flat 70km that would get steadily heavier going as the day heated up. The cycle path along the Loire is well signed, well routed through towns and villages to ensure you can get provisions. It also has lots of attractive river-side places to stop for a beer and for kids to play in a playground.

    Our day began in Loir-et-Cher and at some point we crossed into Indre-et-Cher. French départements were created to enable a horse rider to reach any part from the central préfecture in a day. It’s probably the same distance as if you were travelling by bicycle.

    This has been a day of castles. First, Chambord, the famous opulent palace. Then Blois, situated on its battlements in the town centre over looking the river. Finally Amboise, an astonishing fortress which is also where Leonardo Da Vinci is buried.

    My recent reading about commons and land ownership means that I can’t see these places and not think about how the wealth needed to create them is made in part from confiscating land and taxing them local populations. This isn’t news, but these sights are often held in isolation from the story of their creation. At Chambord Europe’s longest stone wall kept the locals out of the forest to stop them hunting and foraging on land that would have been theirs on pain of death.

    These are of course stories of rulers and social injustice from 100s of years ago. Arguably France had a conversation about this imbalance of land ownership in through the Revolution, but in the UK we never have. Consequently we still have owners of massive parcels of land who derive this ownership from William the Conqueror. As we think about how we use local resources to support local economies, we need to have a conversation about returning common land to them communities that surround them.

  • Paris – Orleans – Muides-sur-Loire

    Paris – Orleans – Muides-sur-Loire

    Today our trip shifted gear, away from the city and on the road again. We left paris from the Gare Austerlitz, which feels like it has been under reconstruction for 15 years. I can’t believe how much concrete must have been poured to create the podium that is spanning over the platforms. I wonder if attitudes to using concrete are shifting in France like they are shifting in the UK?

    It’s a short ride to Orléans from Paris in one of those old intercity trains like the ones I’d see go humming past on the railway line below my grandmother’s house. There’s plenty of space for bicycles, albeit after you have lifted them up the high steps. On the way I spotted the remains of a test track for an aborted hover train project, a competitor to the British schemes being tested in Ely in the 1970s, neither of which came to fruition.

    After a few days in city it feels a relief to reach the Loire, which stretched out before us left and right as we ate our picnic lunch on the banks. We now have six days of cycling down it’s wide cycle paths atop flood dykes.

    First nuclear power station of the trip

    Last night we drank in a packed street bar in Paris, today our beers are in a riverside campsite ganguette. I am enjoying the change.

  • Provins – Tour de Femmes stage 2

    Provins – Tour de Femmes stage 2

    From stage one of the Tour de Femmes in Paris to a very different stage two finish in Provins. The stage in Paris was of ceremonial importance, but I think the stages between more regional towns are more characteristic of the overall tour experience.

    Unsure whether to go the night before, we looked up the finish town of Provins on the race website. And sure enough it is a UNESCO world heritage sight. This is what the Tour is for: showing off bits of France. Having lived here and traveled widely for a year I’d never heard of Provins. And so we set off for a day of sightseeing and cycle watching.

    I was happy to find that our route to Provins was a direct train from the Gare de l’Est. I used to come here and imagine the journeys you’d be able to take when they would open the TGV Est Européen in 2007, connecting Paris at high speed to Strasbourg, Cologne and Frankfurt. It is a very wide terminus station with brightly lit, glazed concourse that runs the width of the platform ends. It’s not as imperious as Gare du Nord, not as concrete as Montparnasse, not as complicated as Saint Lazare. It’s like a dinner table set out for lots of European friends with a nice bright table cloth and plenty of elbow room. I also appreciate the abundance of seating without obligation to sit in a cafe.

    From one end of the Transilien line P to the other, at Provins station the most striking thing is the Office de Tourisme which had an elegant Coreten facade with the map of the city carved out of it to make dappled shade on the building front.

    We walked down the medieval streets, had a relaxed lunch in a restaurant, spotting Tour lanyard wearers all around us. Gently, imperceptibly at first, the pedestrians, the residents started all walking in one direction. We followed them round the ancient streets, through the impressive ramparts and then there it was: the ‘permanance’ – the collection of vehicles which is the travelling caravan of the Tour. We passed the winners’ podium, the commentators box and then there was the finish line. All of these bits of infrastructure are so familiar from watching over a hundred stages from the television, and there they were just in front of us. Smaller, and bigger, in real life.

    I think one of the most surprising things about the Tour is that all this infrastructure is moved from town to town every day. It is literally a travelling circus. It is life on the road, not just for the riders but for the logistics entourage.

    We knew we’d get a good chance of standing near the finish, but we didn’t expect to get five metres from the line. We found our spot and waited the two hours or so for the race to pass. I did this watercolour of the finish line. I appeared to be the only person taking pictures with this choice of medium.

    A brave local commentator was keeping the crowd interested, and i learnt a lot about what a big deal it is for a region or département to host the tour. We heard about the local cycle clubs and rising stars. We heard about all the local people who had worked to bring the Tour to Seine et Marne and to the town of Provins. All the folk who had assisted in getting the barriers in place early in the morning. I had the feeling that lots of people watching weren’t into pro-cycling, but that this was the travelling spectacle coming to town that they had to see.

    An hour before the race came the travelling caravan of sponsors vehicles handing out free stuff. I know that this is what the Tour is all about on one level, marketing opportunities for these big French brands. It is awful in terms of waste stuff given out and it is laughable. From the cars freebies are thrown out and the crowd go wild for them. Key rings from the gendarmerie, T-shirts, the famous hats, processed meat from one of the sponsors. I am sorry to say I didn’t get a pink Zwift that but glad that my daughter got one.

    And then it was on to watch the racing. As I found yesterday it is actually quite hard to follow the race when you are there, but being near the end we could see the big screen. I was watching when three pretty awful looking crashes happened. These were made all the more graphic when we saw the injured riders limp to the line later.

    The riders passed the finish twice. First for an intermediate sprint, and then round a 15km loop which brought them back for the finish. After the sprint a breakaway group formed of Elisa Balsamo, Elisa Longo Borghini, Marianne Vos, Niewiadoma, Silvia Persico and Makia van der Duin. But in the final sprint to the line Marianne Vos broke away from this group and zoomed ahead to cross the line. Incredible to see possibly the best cyclist in the world win her 241 stage win and with it the Yellow Jersey.

    Seeing the racers close up makes the whole thing feel more human. They are much smaller in real life. Their pain is more real. And their power as they cycle past.

    And then fascinating to see how the end of race proceedings are orchestrated. While one racer is collapsed on the ground getting medical help, other people are getting on with the medal ceremony. This stage is done, and the juggernaut must roll on.

  • Women and men’s Tour de France

    Women and men’s Tour de France

    One of the anchor points for our trip this summer is to catch the start of the Tour de Femmes, which coincides with the end of the Tour de France.

    It is so exciting to be able to see the first women’s tour, of proper scale, kickoff. following the tour feels like a bit of a family guilty pleasure, that a guilt subdued a bit now that there is a women’s tour of decent scale, but there’s still a long way to go. Interestingly it seems some of the women’s teams were set up by pro-men who wanted decent cycling opportunities for their daughters.

    From the Rue de Rivoli we stood on the railings to watch the eight laps of the women’s peleton, struggling to identify who was whom, relying mostly on the live updates from the website. Despite my preference for analogue experiences, it really is a sporting day out that is enhanced by having a live feed in your pocket.

    When the women had gone by we crossed the Jardin de Tuileries to the Orangerie to wait for the Men’s peloton. Having watched the men’s tour on the TV for so many years it was really exciting to be seeing the spectacle close up. It’s like with anything that you have watched on television the scale of things looks very different in real life. Things are at once much smaller because you don’t get the close-up camera shots, and then very large when people do get close.

    The Tour de France peleton on its penultimate lap of the Tuileries

    It’s such a thrill to see these riders who have been up and down mountains all around France, not to mention their excursion to Denmark, end up right in front of us. It is quite a spectacle. We enjoyed having it with a group of British cycling fans, and were interested to see how little our Paris friends cared for the race. This corroborates a newspaper article yesterday about the Tour’s growing international reputation and the increasing ambivalence for it among the French.

    Tomorrow we head out into Ile de France to see stage two of the Tour de Femmes. It’ll be interesting to see how the atmosphere changes on a smaller stage in a more rural spot.

    Tips for watching the Tour de France in Paris

    This is what we did in 2022 and what we’d do again. Both the women’s and men’s Tour do loops of the Jardin de Tuileries and the Champs Elysées. Access to metro stations in the area is limited. So we arrived an hour early and entrees the area via Metro Palais Royale Louvre. From there you can walk straight in to the gardens. There was also an access point by the Pont Solferino.

    We watched the Women’s Tour from behind the railings along the Rue de Rivoli, which is where the close up photo I took above is taken from. A good shady spot but you don’t get long-distance views.

    We watched the Men’s Tour from the terrace outside the Orangerie. This was well shaded while waited during the day but was in full sun for the last hour wait and during the laps. Come prepared if you go there.

    Next time we’d go to the banks of the Seine opposite the Orangerie which stayed in shade throughout but which had a good view. Note this area had a police bag check point as it is closer to the track and we didn’t think we’d get through with our picnic knives!

  • Paris – towers, boats and beaches

    Paris – towers, boats and beaches

    Today we had a proper tourist day in Paris. We’ve been numerous times with our daughter but now she’s old enough to remember we decided to take in some sights. And you know, it’s good to do these things every so often even in the places you call or once called home.

    Main mode of transport was the Bateau Bus. I love the ferry ride. I often wonder why boats aren’t used more in cities to get around. We had three great rides along the river to get us to right across town.

    Here are some snaps

    Nation Station – I have always loved the futuristic from the past look of this station.
    The peeing fountains are always a giggle
    The eponymous tower in all its glory and ridiculousness
    Complicated node connection
    Paris Plage
    The plan of Paris Plage activities
    Beach bar and football area
    Climbing wall and water misters to keep everyone cool

    Paris Plage

    Paris Plage is Paris’s beach. Created by closing a busy road along the banks of the river. The fully pedestrianised area is a mixture of beaches, at areas, games areas and just generally space to hang out. It’s not commercial. It’s there to enrich the life of people. A fantastic example of shared public abundance.

  • Ouistreham to Paris

    Ouistreham to Paris

    The port of Ouistreham is about 15km from the city of Caen. Journey today began with a cycle along the canal de Caen à la Mer. The canal is a major import terminal for tropical hardwoods from West Africa. And we could see the timber being stacked up on the opposite banks of the canal.

    Downtown Ouistreham

    We cycled under a heroic motorway viaduct and then arrived by well appointed cycle path in the middle of town. We only had about 45 minutes to spend in town so we found a high point to hang out: in this case the castle right in the city centre.

    Heroic viaduct outside Caen

    Other city centre castles I have enjoyed: Belgrade, Budapest, Blaye. I like when you can simply cycle up from the town below and straight into the gates.

    Our train from Caen to Paris St Lazare was a squash and a squeeze with our bikes. The service has unreserved bike spaces, but these were full and the service busy. Lots of people boarding and getting off with luggage got stuck with us in the bottleneck of the doors. I ended up lifting my bike up on its rear wheel and squeezing on. Somehow I miraculously managed to balance it on a pile of panniers so that when I let go it stayed upright.

    Miraculously balanced bicycles

    From Paris St Lazare to the 20th arrondissement we cycled the route of the Metro Line 2, following the cycle paths through the boulevards. This infrastructure went in when we lived here in 2006. Now it feels really hectic to use, with e-scooters, mopeds and delivery vehicles competing for space. As is offering the case though when I feel squashed using cycle infrastructure, I shouldn’t bemoan the other users: they are doing the right thing and it’s fewer cars that we need.

    With all the alternative, shared transport infrastructure, I think Paris is now ready to ban cars altogether. Maybe with rising fuel costs and renewed focus on the climate crisis due to recent heat waves, banning cars in Paris might happen soon.

    We finished the day with our friend and proprietor of our old local the Piston Pelican, Stéphane. The bar was closed but he welcomed us in for pizza and wine and an insight on what it’s been like trying to run a Paris bar through Covid. We talked about the heat wave and the climate crisis, and what people in their position can do.

    I told Steph that running a bar like theirs is an important thing to be doing in a time of crisis because it builds community cohesion and resilience. I’m not sure how reassuring that was though as my climate French vocab is a bit ropey: turns out I’d been referring to the climate crisis all evening as the ‘central heating crisis’!

    Mary Stéphane and me at the Piston Pelican