Richard

On the way back from the school run this morning I went over to Wilksby, thinking to just try my luck at the dairy farm there anyway. I ran into a farmer called Richard, who seemed happy to stand and chat with me for a while, sharing some of his views and experiences from his life in livestock and agriculture.

The first thing he said was that the sanctions our government has placed on Russia are having no less effect on the Russians than the ones Russia has placed on us, which has driven the cost price of our dairy produce through the floor, so that our own farmers are struggling even more than ever.

Then he talked about the "four moves" rule that the slaughterhouse chains have imposed "for no logical reason, just because they can". This is the rule that says if an animal has been moved from one location to another four or more times, the slaughterhouse only pays the farmer 40% of each animal's value before its fourth move. He went into some detail about this: there are only four slaughterhouse chains monopolising the whole UK meat industry, and they work together with each other to set livestock prices to their advantage, thus squeezing the put-upon farmer ever more.

Then Richard told me about one of his neighbours who was "lucky" to take over the tenancy of the dairy farm on his father's death, which was only possible because of a support scheme available to those who qualify as "young farmers", thus enabling him to make 1.5p of profit per litre of milk (on a cost price of around 24p).

Next, he told me how the current prices that farm produce is generally being bought at are about the same as in 1980 - "If only we still had 1980 costs!" he bewailed. And then Dyson's fortunes coming back from Malaysia effectively doubling the price of agricultural land, so that the average age of farmers continues to climb as the next generation can't afford to break in. Although, as profits are so low "and you can't make your £30,000 living, which is what you need at least, to support a family", it's only "us old fellas that can't change" that are doing it any more.

"It's unsustainable," he said. And I agreed. I asked whether it's any help to him that a growing number of consumers nowadays are looking to buy local produce direct from farmers and he paused to gather his thoughts before replying. "I'm not knocking it," he said at length, "but you need more people doing it. And if you think about it, back 30 or 40 years ago most households were just one man supporting them, and the wife did whatever part time work she found. So you had about 1.3 wages. But you can't support a family on 1.3 wages today. You need two and then some. So people haven't got time to go round all different places when they've only put aside an hour and a half to do their week's shopping. That's why they just go to the supermarket."

I said that personally, I've been avoiding supermarkets for quite some time. I've found that in that hour and a half time slot I can easily get into Horncastle, go around the various small, independent shops and get everything I need, then get home. It's no more time consuming than using the supermarket, but much more enjoyable and invariably a little cheaper to boot.

Richard's reply to that was that "people just don't think about it - it's just a habit, they go to the supermarket 'cos that's what everyone does". We then lamented together how it isn't so much that two wages are genuinely needed to support a family - but they're needed to support one in the "aspirational" lifestyle.

This we defined by talking about how, back in the 1970s you'd have one or two rich families in the village who had all the latest gadgets and fads, and as kids we'd find ways to end up at their house so we could play with the rich kids' toys, but most families didn't see the need to work both parents to death so they could take their collection of luxuries beyond the fridge, freezer, washing machine and TV set. Whilst nowadays kids consider themselves deprived unless every family member has their own laptop, tablet, smart-phone, TV & DVD player, collection of games consoles and enough designer clothes "to patch every sail in the navy" (the colourful metaphor he used). And a mere fridge isn't enough any more - it has to be a gigantic, pantry-sized fridge with drinks dispenser and ice crusher.

Small wonder that people are feeling exhausted and overworked when that human habit of mistaking wants and desires for needs has been fanned out of all proportion.

Yes, you could say this sounds like just two old men moaning about changing times. But I see a clear connection between the sense of entitlement to live at an absurdly high level of luxury and consumption that prevails in today's society, the pressure on the farmer, the power of the global food industry, destruction of the environment caused by ever more intensive farming methods and the increases in natural disasters, poverty, suffering and political instability around the globe as the West scrambles to maintain its unsustainable lifestyle at any cost.

You may say I'm just a rural yokel, hiding away in the depths of Lincolnshire, where, surrounded by stunning landscapes, I lead a leisurely life pottering around local markets and taking tea with vicars, oblivious to the rat race. Guilty as charged. But I'm also an international studies graduate, and have a very strong sense of myself as a world citizen. I'm afraid I just cannot bring myself to just look at my quality of life in comparison with others in this country and whine because I'm in the lowest 5% of incomes.

I'm very much aware of my position (along with the rest of the British working class) in the top 10% of household incomes in the world, with over 12 times the global average income and a quality of life far beyond anything my ancestors imagined - better than the majority of people in this world can hope to aspire to. Having lived in the bottom 1% in the UK and spent years skipping meals so my kids could eat, my life has improved five fold to be where I am now. And I'm grateful - deeply, deeply grateful for it.

Every time I have a hot shower, snuggle into a warm, comfortable bed, eat a tasty meal, put on a nice garment or take tea with a friend, I'm acutely aware that my life is good. That these comforts have had to be fought and worked for - not just by me, but on the backs of the global many who must suffer daily so I can have a fridge, never mind a huge one with bells on - and must be earned again each day if they're not to be lost again. And I'm not willing to use what resources I have irresponsibly, nor purchase unnecessary improvements to this life at the expense of what little opportunities others have to do the same.

To my mind, it's everyone else that's isolated themselves from reality, from society - world society, that is - and shrugged off all sense of responsibility for the wider consequences of their habitual choices and assumptions. By living my simple life here, and doing what I do to reconnect with my homeland, I'm also acting on this awareness of my place in the wider global context and doing what I feel is the best I can do for Richard, for myself and, in the long run, for everyone.

Years ago I was a member of the Third Order of the Society of St Francis, a group of Anglican lay people committed to helping each other live out the principles of the Gospels as interpreted by the visions of St Francis of Assisi. At a meeting one evening someone shared a motto that they'd come across: living simply, so that others can simply live.

That's what I'm talking about here - it's not about guilt, or wringing our hands anxiously while throwing money at organisations that exist for the sole purpose of helping the victims of our continued luxurious lifestyle. What we all need to do is to just see our lives in perspective, and act accordingly. Act locally.