Welcome to Earth, Population: growing!

When we think about threats to the environment, obvious examples include meteors, zombies, alien invasions or giant mutated swarms of stuff.  ‘Threats to the environment’ you understand, for most people, mean ‘threats to my way of living’ or more precisely ‘threats to my comfy lifestyle’.

Plastic, since the broadcast of a particular episode of ‘Blue Planet II’ is now a threat to the environment.  This is not new, plastic products, or more precisely the irresponsible use and disposal of plastic products, have been a threat to the environment since the first Cola bottle ended up in a hedge rather than a bin.  What was under threat was guilt-free cosy Sunday night television viewing.

Arguably, overpopulation is an environmental threat.  In this case ‘environmental threat’ means both an actual threat to the environment (trees, clouds, otters) and to cosy lifestyles.  Overpopulation means too many people relying on too few resources, as used to happen back in the day when the ‘must have Christmas toy’ was made of plastic rather than being a string of ones and zeros that could be downloaded on December 25.  This led to three inevitable results; a 90 second bit on the news about Cabbage Patch Dolls that informed hitherto blissfully ignorant parents that they were failures because they were condemning their child to a substandard Christmas; an ungrateful child on Christmas Morning, and hammer fights in the aisles Toys R Us.

There have been warnings about global overpopulation, but as ‘Make Room! Make Room!’ was a genre novel and the resulting movie ‘Soylent Green’ was a sci-fi movie, nobody paid much attention.

Moreover, overpopulation is subjective.  Fears of overpopulation played a part in the arguments surrounding the ill-fated 2016 Brexit referendum, when the argument was made that Great Britain was a small island and could not bear the influx of filthy foreigners coming here to clutter up our streets by taking selfies of themselves next to landmarks.  Anyone who has had to try and force themselves onto any form of public transport at a reasonable hour will also have their own thoughts on overpopulation, in particular how the battle for resources has not started with oil or water as predicted, but apparently with deodorant.

There are also places where it would be hard to argue that overpopulation is a threat, such as Exmoor, or behind the bar at All Bar One.

Overpopulation, and what to do about it, remains a popular fictional theme, from the TV programme ‘Utopia’ where the critical acclaim of the programme went unchallenged because nobody other than critics actually watched it, to ‘Avengers Infinity War’ where critical acclaim met viewer opinion that maybe those fuckers at Marvel should have put ‘Pt I’ on the title.

For much of the later part of the 20^th Century, overpopulation was not a widespread concern.  This was because global conflict was.

Attempts to halt overpopulation, in fiction anyway, usually involve megalomaniac billionaires plotting genocide, as in ‘Moonraker’, the Bond movie.

The reality, of course, would be very different.  If a billionaire industrialist were to try and control population growth, there are far more subtle and effective ways to do so than trying to kill off large numbers of people, the sort of activity that always leaves one vulnerable to the actions of a lone individual with a laser in his watch.

You could, for instance, invent an alcohol-free beer that did not taste completely disgusting.  This would mean that single people would not get hammered and have unprotected sex.

You could invent the ‘box set’, meaning that humans of breeding age would remain at home instead of socialising.

Invent Netflix, same thing.

You could invent magazines for women that give women unrealistic expectations of body image, but at the same time also publish magazines that show how awful the private lives of celebrity women are, meaning that the sort of women who are influenced by that sort of thing don’t think they are attractive enough to hook up with blokes, but also don’t have such low self-esteem that they will shag the first bloke that shows an interest in them.

Or, and this is probably ridiculous, you could popularise fantasy literature, ensuring the virginity of millions.

The butterfly effect

Taking advantage of the opportunity to wander outside without the precaution of donning wellies, coat and snorkel this weekend, I made the most of the unexpected good weather by lounging in the garden and monitoring the conflict between torpor and my desire for a cold beer.

As afternoon turns into evening, somebody at a flight control desk somewhere flips a switch and, thanks to a change in flight plans and runway approaches, or possibly just for variety, the patch of sky over my head is filled not just with darting swifts but with the occasional jet aeroplane, toiling across the blue.

The appearance of these jets is always preceded or followed by a gentle wind of passing. This is not, I am sure, imagination - hot weather means that I have perfected the art of sitting perfectly still. When a 747 goes past, I can see the effect of the wind as well as feel it myself.

It makes you wonder what violence is being done to the air so that something so far away (luckily they are always high by the time they pass) can have such an effect.