Allotments

Take notice, That England is not a Free People, 'til the Poor that have no Land have a free allowance to dig and labour the Commons, and so live as Comfortably as the Landlords that live in their Inclosures.

— Gerrard Winstanley et al., "The True Levellers Standard Advanced," April 1649

If Gerrard Winstanley were to walk in an English city today, he might think his dream had come true. Allotments — small plots of land (up to .25 acre) leased by local councils for urban farming — have been a part of the cityscape for over a century. They were originally intended to fulfill Winstanley's wish: to provide the landless poor with an opportunity to grow their own food. Over the years, while the cities grew upwards and outwards around them, they have become a refuge from the hurried pace of modern society, a place where life can slow right down to the speed of nature.

The heyday of the allotment was World War II, when it helped Britain "Use Spades Not Ships and Dig for Victory." There were well over a million allotments in Britain then. Their numbers have decreased since, but for many people they still evoke images of past times: grumpy old men filling empty days with shovels and sheds, pottering over prize marrows and rows of cabbages. This modern life, it just won't do. Hand me my spade, my compost wheelbarrow. I will work my quarter-acre and live in the simple glory of days-gone-by.

This view is not entirely truthful. Allotments are no longer solely the domain of the elderly. In recent years, thanks largely to increasing worry over genetically modified foods and the lies of supermarket labels, there has been a surge of interest in allotments. More young people are applying to their council for a plot of land, because allotments are a cheap way of growing fresh, organic produce — the average annual rent is just £25 ($41). Local councils are required by law to provide allotment land where there is demand, and some parts of the country have waiting lists of up to five years.

Schools and community groups have also realized the benefits of allotments in education and developing teamwork and transferable skills. Consequently, the profile of the allotment holder is changing. Most are still pensioners, but over a third are now aged under 30, and it is estimated that 20 percent are women.

Furthermore, on a practical level, allotments are far from an easy-going hobby. Maintaining one successfully needs dedication — especially, like any farming, if the land has been neglected. Before any growing can be done, weeds and brambles need to be cleared (thoroughly, root by root, to make sure they don't grow back). The land has to be mulched through the winter to enrich the soil and prevent erosion, and a crop rotation system needs to be devised to make the most of the soil and allow it to recover. Then, growing seeds need attention to protect them from insects, pests, wind, frost, winter flooding, cats, slugs, vandals...

Even for the most patient, this is slow, time-consuming work, almost all year round. For many months, there might be little visible progress. The frustration is too much for some: In 1999, 73-year-old Sandor Bata murdered a fellow allotment holder in a dispute over clematis clippings being dumped on his land. He received life imprisonment, and Gerrard Winstanley no doubt turned in his grave at such shocking neglect of community spirit.

But for those who manage to stay calm and use their gardening tools for their original purpose, there are many benefits (and a large amount of satisfaction) in Growing Your Own. As well as the exercise and (relatively) fresh air, vegetables have a habit of being tastier when you've grown and picked them yourself. And there is a great deal of heart-warming pride in even a small degree of self-sufficiency — knowing that fossil fuels haven't been burned to transport your potatoes, that your tomatoes haven't been sprayed with a chemical you can't pronounce, and that by tending a small patch of green in an urban grey you've done a tiny bit of good for the environment.

The pleasure, though, is somewhat perverse. The ideal of the allotment may be good-natured, but the effort it takes is a reminder of how life used to be — and how it still is for many in the world, who would jump at the chance to grow food without the worry of starvation come harvest-time.

Food for thought, indeed.

— Louis Cooke (louis@mintcake.com)