What with dirty dairying and fast-food wrappers littering the
country, you think we've got environmental problems.
Spare a thought then for the citizens of St Valery en Caux in
Normandy.
They are up in arms over an environmental outrage.
Fishing and aquaculture are dominant activities in those
parts, and the region is renowned for oysters - whose growth
rates are no doubt assisted by warm water released from the
local nuclear power plant.
The villagers' concern has nothing to do with matters
nuclear, but rather a proposal to desecrate the skyline by
erecting hideous wind turbines on a local beauty spot along
the cliff top.
Perhaps they have noticed while travelling on their
electro-drive (nuclear-powered) bullet trains, that the main
distinguishing feature of two out of three French wind
turbines is that they are stationary.
France does not have New Zealand's spectacular wind and hydro
resources, so being an intelligent country they have opted
for a generation mix that makes the best carbon-free,
technical sense.
As a nation good at seeing things in perspective, you've got
to hand it to the French. Can you imagine a comparable
reaction in donkey-dumb, nuclear-free New Zealand, (or
California), where it seems that the only time a correct
decision is reached, it is by blind, random chance?
In New Zealand, nuclear power makes economic nonsense, but
that is not the reason we are aiming for 90% renewable.
No, in our arithmetical ignorance we whinge and whine about
every harmless bogeyman under the sun - fluoride in town's
water that really does stem juvenile tooth decay, fracking
thousands of feet below any aquifers, or 1080 in the remote
bush - where the alternative is total eco-system collapse.
Trying to get the right answer the wrong way is bound to
backfire eventually, and a good example can be seen in the
recent announcement for yet more motorway construction.
I thought Steven Joyce was a fairly smart operator, but no.
If he can't get his head around the coming catastrophic
consequences of peak oil, then surely he can read his own
Ministry of Transport statistics that show car miles per
person per year have stopped rising and are now falling.
Simply, this means that as the price of petrol continues its
northwards climb, traffic density will fall, not rise, and
with it the need for new motorways.
The failure to divert our limited finances into essential
public transport infrastructure before the price of crude oil
explodes is going to prove to be one of our worst planning
disasters.
Trying to get the right answer the wrong way has a bosom
companion - keeping your head stuck in the sand.
We're great at that too. The DPB was originally introduced
with the worthy aim of supporting deserted women at a time
when jobs for girls were few.
While the original need for the DPB is still with us, it has
been clear for years that many teenage girls were subverting
the intent of the DPB, and ripping off the taxpayer, by
breeding a class of misfits, child abusers, and criminally
prone malcontents.
Until the recent release of the initial findings of the
Welfare Working Group, no politician has had the courage to
try to plug this loophole.
As Michael Laws has repeatedly pointed out, the status quo
has got to change - and if that means compulsory
sterilisation for women who will not name or, probably quite
honestly, cannot recall who was their inseminator, so be it.
But it's not all gloom and doom.
Taranaki finally got their grippers on the Ranfurly shield,
and, despite the excesses of the International Rugby Board or
All Black speed wobbles, the RWC will chirp-up the nation.
There's even good news for the Aussies, too. I never thought
I'd live to see the day when Australian housewives could
finally get decent Kiwi apples, even if Woolworths and Coles
supermarkets refuse to stock them. Two can play that game.
Until they come to their senses, I have instructed my
housekeeper to boycott Woolworths.
About the only thing you can say for Aussie apples is that
they are better than the French Golden "Delicious" that
British housewives have little choice but to buy for much of
the year.
These taste like mouldy Gib board, and I suspect that they
are either GM, radioactive, or quite possibly both.
- John de Bueger is a New Plymouth writer and
engineer.
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