Michael Green

Journalist, producer and oral historian

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Urban orchards

In Greener Homes on August 8, 2010

A new housing development will have residents eating the suburbs.

OUR public spaces need not only be ornamental, according to Andrew Partos from state property developer VicUrban. “Streets can be productive as well as aesthetic, and fruit trees are often very beautiful to grow,” he says

In its Meridian housing development in Dandenong, VicUrban is putting nutrition into the nature strip. The streets will be lined with a mix of about 20 kinds of productive trees, including apricots, apples, pears, figs, mulberries, lemons, olives and hazelnuts.

“There are also urban orchards in the public open space, and an area set aside for community gardens,” Mr Partos says. The first two stages of the development have sold out and the third is scheduled for release later this year.

A residents’ association will manage and harvest the trees, together with interested local groups and schools, if necessary. The approach was modelled on similar schemes in Europe and North America.

Here, many councils have long been opposed to public fruit trees, for fear of maintenance bills or litigation should something go wrong. “Those arguments can be addressed,” Mr Partos says. “Some areas of California have had productive landscapes in their streets for a long time, with community organisations set up to manage and run them.”

As well as the edible trees, Meridian includes liveable street design, where slow moving cars must share the paths with pedestrians. The stormwater runoff flows into green landscaped edges, where it waters the plants directly.

Unfortunately, there’ll be a delay before the trees bear fruit, because the first planting was damaged during the construction process.

It will be worth the wait. “Productive landscapes deal with a number of sustainability issues. If you can provide locally sourced fruit you remove a lot of the oil used in fertilising, harvesting, transporting and purchasing it,” Mr Partos says. “But we’ve found that the even greater benefit of all this is the creation of strong neighbourhoods and communities.”

Kirsten Larsen, from the Victorian Eco-Innovation Lab at the University of Melbourne, says it’s crucial we understand that food is a major part of our household footprint.

“When we talk about reducing environmental impact, we often don’t include food. But it is our biggest source of water use, half our waste to landfill, and nearly 30 per cent of our household greenhouse gas emissions.”

She says the planning model for urban areas must change. “We suck resources into our cities, use some of them and waste a whole lot. We need to think about our cities as productive, as well as consumptive spaces. We have the resources here that we need: water, nutrients, space and sunlight.

“Growing some of our food helps close energy, water and nutrient cycles. It cuts the need for transport, encourages healthy eating, and can create green spaces, cooler urban areas and jobs.”

The Eco-Innovation Lab developed an online ‘food map’ detailing locations of food production across the city. Ms Larsen says interest in city food growing has been “exploding”, with guerrilla gardeners, backyard produce swaps, and people grafting fruiting varieties onto existing ornamental trees.

In that spirit, Yarra Urban Harvest is about to plant a community orchard on private land in Collingwood. The group also encourages people to plant productive trees on nature strips and traffic islands – especially in Yarra, where the council hasn’t been removing public gardens set up by residents.

The third toaster

In Blog on August 4, 2010

FIXERS are everywhere I look. They’ve emerged from their cluttered workshops and entered my field of vision.

Tired of reading polemic non-fiction, I picked up a novel by Italian writer Primo Levi, called If Not Now, When? It is a story of a band of Jewish partisans in the second world war, a jumble of Russian and Polish Jews, men and women who fight against the Germans behind their lines. Sometimes the Red Army, other partisans and villagers support them; more often, they too persecute the Jews.

As I turned the second page, I discovered that the main protagonist, Mendel, is a watchmender.

Mendel is the book’s moral conscience and his trade is not a coincidence. He is a village craftsman: grounded and resourceful, but also compassionate and thoughtful. He is balanced and patient, like a clock. The novel is a meditation on the ethics of war, and Mendel is the melancholy pendulum, his mind rocking back and forth the atrocities they witness, and the violence they perpetrate.

Early in the book, he and Leonid, a young soldier from Moscow, seek respite in an encampment of Jews and other refugees in an old monastery hidden among the marshes. For food, the small community traps frogs and collects grasses, herbs and mushrooms. They tan hides using oak bark and make boots for partisans. The two newcomers meet Dov, the leader of the camp:

“Do you have a trade?” he asked, addressing Mendel.

“I’m a watchmender by trade, but I also worked as a mechanic in a kolkhoz.”

“Good. We’ll find work for you right away. What about you, Muscovite?”

“I studied to be a bookkeeper.”

“That’s a bit less useful, for us.” Dov laughed. “I’d like to keep accounts, but it’s impossible. We can’t even count the people who come and go.”

I think I know how he would have responded had one of them replied: “I’m a freelance journalist.” Thankfully, I am not in the war.

All this, however, brings me to my latest tussle with a toaster.

This time, armed with tamper proof screwdriver heads, I was able to remove the outer casing, then the second layer, to reveal the wires and the filaments. Using the multimeter, I slowly tracked the source of the broken circuit by testing the resistance between different points. One of the thin wires in the filament had snapped.

I searched a while on the internet and I don’t think it’s possible to buy replacement filaments. The toaster was not made to be mended. So I couldn’t fix it. But I still count my foray as a minor success: I identified the problem.

Toaster side

Replacing halogen downlights

In Greener Homes on August 1, 2010

There’s a big upside to removing halogen downlights.

THE federal government has banned the sale of most incandescent light globes, but one kind is still available: halogen downlights. Unfortunately, they’re still marching two-by-two throughout the nation’s homes.

“As light sources, halogens make really good heaters,” says Lance Turner, from sustainable technology magazine, ReNew. “Like all incandescent globes, they’re really inefficient. Less than ten per cent of the power they use turns into light. The rest is turned into heat.”

That excess heat poses a significant fire risk when debris or insulation strays too close. It’s one of the problems that caused the demise of the federal government’s insulation rebate.

But while shonky installation jobs have rightly been condemned, the real problem lies with the halogens themselves. Not only do they run hot and gobble too much electricity, but the necessary gaps in insulation also fatten our heating and cooling bills. “They can cost hundreds of dollars a year to run and they don’t even light rooms very well,” Mr Turner says.

When Cameron Munro and his wife Karin moved into their house in Malvern, the ceiling was spotted with 23 halogen downlights; their insulation “looked like a Swiss cheese”.

In the process of retrofitting the home, they removed nearly all of them. In the lounge room they replaced five halogens with a single compact fluoro bulb, slashing the electricity demand from 250 to 15 watts. “We only kept downlights where they were appropriate – for task lighting over the kitchen sink and in the reading area,” Mr Munro says.

In those spots, they switched the halogen bulbs with LEDs. They placed protective covers over the fittings in the ceiling and filled up the insulation cheese holes.

“With the covers we can run the insulation much closer and effectively eliminate the fire risk,” he says. Downlight protectors, such as the Tenmat or Isolite, are available at hardware stores for less than $20.

According to Mr Turner, the best light fittings are those for which you don’t need to punch a big hole in the ceiling. He argues there are many better options, from classic pendant or oyster fittings, to new products such as disc-style puck lights or strips of LED lighting that can be hidden along pelmets.

If you want downlights, there are a few ways to replace halogen bulbs. Low-energy ‘infra-red’ halogens are cheap and easy, but don’t make much difference. “The low-energy halogen replacement for a 50 watt bulb is still 35 watts,” Mr Turner says.

You can also directly exchange them with LED downlight bulbs, but Mr Turner argues that without appropriate fittings, they bulbs are unlikely to last their full lifespan. To replace fittings you’ll need an electrician, but it’s a quick job.

For a recent ReNew case study, Mr Turner opted for Crompton CFL downlight fittings (Edison screw, about $10 each) with LED bulbs purchased online from the US (US$25 to $50).

“Generally the ones available in Australia are more expensive because they’re not sold in large quantities,” he says, noting that it’s important to assess the quality and standards compliance of overseas products. For a local supplier of complete fittings, he suggests Brightgreen.

Although the cost of fittings and LEDs varies widely, the expense is worthwhile. “If you upgrade to an energy efficient fitting the payback period is never longer than about five years.”

Food glorious food!

In Environment, Social justice on July 27, 2010

But is there cause to get flustered?

THE great contest of the kitchen is over. For the second year in a row, MasterChef skewered the public imagination. Surprised and gratified parents are ceding command of the stovetop to their children – this can only be good.

And that’s not all. Every time the judges minced through their forkfuls and tenderise contestants with their ambiguous gazes, the nation was reminded that what we eat requires close attention. The show ignited passionate debate from newsrooms to tearooms. It inspired people to cook for one another.

Extrapolated slightly, these are three invaluable cooking lessons: food matters; food is cultural; and food is social.

But the show also had a bitter kick: food is corporate.

I visited a Coles supermarket recently. MasterChef flags cluttered the window and crowded the head space. Cardboard signs cloaked the alarms at the entrance, declaring: “MasterChef has chosen Coles to supply quality ingredients to the pantry.”

Spuds weren’t just spuds: they were MasterChef spuds.

Broad signs arched over each aisle, like banners at the end of a race, spurring the shoppers on: “To cook like a MasterChef cooks, shop where a MasterChef shops.”

But if you care about food, the aisles of a supermarket must not be your finish line – even if they are decorated with the logos of our most popular TV show.

This time last year, before the MasterChef finale, Chris Berg from the Institute of Public Affairs penned a column for the Sunday Age celebrating the show for disregarding “over-cooked moralising about the ‘ethics’ of food”. (The inverted commas are his).

“You get the impression,” he wrote, “that even if a MasterChef contestant used ingredients that were artificially grown in a chemical factory by robot arms, the only thing the judges would be interested in would be taste, texture and presentation. You know, the reasons why we enjoy eating.” (This, I should clarify, was intended as a compliment.)

Another of Coles’ slogans, however, is: “it all counts”. And so it does. The choices we make when we buy our food have a staggering array of consequences, not the least of which is visited upon our taste buds.

Other possible dangers, to list only some, are: obesity, diabetes, animal cruelty, land degradation, chemical runoff, biodiversity loss, climate change, packaging waste, rural social decline and worsening world poverty.

When we shop at a supermarket, according to the dictates of MasterChef merchandising, we outsource our responsibility for these problems to big businesses, whose concerns end with their shareholders.

There are alternatives. In a recent essay for the New York Review of Books, the American writer Michael Pollan lauded the rise of the ‘food movement’, the many citizens groups digging in on issues that span the industrial food chain.

Here in Australia, the food movement is similarly flourishing. It encompasses angry parents who are demanding better labelling and safety standards, bans on genetically modified crops, and an end to the junk food ads that target their children.

It comprises chefs and climate campaigners, permaculturalists and public health professionals. It includes, too, the swelling ranks of backyard and community vegie gardeners, and the gastronomists and convivialists who frequent farmers markets and slow food eateries.

The movement is disparate and sometimes contradictory – for example, animal rights activists might clash with organic meat producers. But Pollan argues that the views of these citizens and activists coalesce “around the recognition that today’s food and farming economy is ‘unsustainable’—that it can’t go on in its current form without courting a breakdown of some kind, whether environmental, economic, or both.”

Food, then, is political.

“Food is invisible no longer,” Pollan goes on, “and, in light of the mounting costs we’ve incurred by ignoring it, it is likely to demand much more of our attention in the future, as eaters, parents, and citizens. It is only a matter of time before politicians seize on [its] power.”

Despite our renewed flair for flavour, inspired by MasterChef, we must remember that not everything of consequence appears on the plate. The corporate conquest of our kitchens is still underway.

Published in Online Opinion.

‘Cash for clunkers’ is a lemon

In Environment, The Age on July 26, 2010

THE old warning about Detroit’s auto factories went like this: bad cars were built on Mondays and Fridays. The slackers on the assembly line didn’t show up for work and quality control was low.

So buyers beware: Monday and Friday’s cars were lemons. But the trouble was, buyers had no way of knowing which day their prospective model was manufactured.

During elections, policies keep on coming, like cars on a production line. And more often than not, it seems as though no one’s checking their quality. But unlike car buyers, voters are in luck – we can tell if the product’s a dud.

Labor’s ‘cash for clunkers’ scheme was launched on Saturday. I’m guessing it was manufactured on Friday. Let’s pop the bonnet, just to be sure.

From January 1, Labor will gift $2000 to owners of pre-1995 cars who buy a new car. It’ll spend $394 million dollars on the scheme, money hinged from three other climate change policies – the solar flagships program, the renewable energy bonus and carbon capture research.

To be eligible for the payout, old-car owners must purchase a new car that has a greenhouse rating of at least six out of ten on the government’s Green Vehicle Guide website. Labor’s policy fact sheet lists seven of the eligible cars, including the Ford Falcon EcoBoost and the Toyota Hybrid Camry.

EcoBoost-Hybrid – wow! That sounds green, right? But it neglected to mention those other – ahem – icons of fuel efficiency, the Toyota Prado 4WD, or the Hilux 4X4 ute, which are also eligible.

On closer inspection, over half of the 1800 new models sold in this country will qualify. Far from being an ambitious target, a greenhouse rating of six equates to the average performance of the entire Australian fleet, as it stands.

New vehicles here just aren’t very efficient. According to report released by Environment Victoria this year, new cars purchased in Australia are about 41 per cent more polluting than those bought in Europe.

When a similar ‘cash for clunkers’ scheme was wheeled out by the British motor industry last year, journalist George Monbiot described it as “the worst scam of all”. He analysed the cost of carbon reduction under the proposed scheme, and observed “you’d get almost as much value for money by reclassifying ten-pound notes as biomass and burning them in power stations”.

On Labor’s estimate, its policy will cost $394 per tonne of emissions abated. Environment Victoria claims that under a basic emissions trading scheme, it would cost just $20 to save a tonne of carbon dioxide emissions.

Monbiot identified other flaws that also apply to Gillard’s payout. Firstly, there’s the ‘rebound effect’. Typically, gains in efficiency are offset by increased consumption – when driving costs less, people tend to drive further. Any benefit is cancelled out, at least in part.

Secondly, many people who drive old models would have bought new ones anyway. Under cash for clunkers, they’ll get money for nothing.

Thirdly, some people who would otherwise have given up their car may decide to buy a new one instead. After all, $2000 is a hefty incentive to drive. In those cases, the policy will actually increase their personal emissions.

And it gets worse. There’s some research to suggest that scrappage schemes increase greenhouse gas emissions overall.

A Dutch study, published in the journal Transportation Research in 2000, concluded that “reducing the age of the current car fleet may result in an increase of life-cycle CO2 emissions”.*

The researchers argued that because about one-fifth of the energy consumed by a car over its lifetime is burnt in manufacturing, the optimal car lifetime is 19 years. They also found that the owners of new cars drove more than twice the distance each year than people with cars more than ten years old.

When our politicians set the course for our transport future, money spent on cars is money that hogs the road from the alternatives – public transport, bicycles and walking.

But if the Labor Party really wants to improve the efficiency of our car fleet, it should impose strict fuel efficiency regulations, not give away wads of cash to a select few for no demonstrable gain. Japan and the EU are phasing in standards that equate to almost half the fuel consumption of an average new Australian car.

As an advocate for action on climate change, Gillard does a perfect impression of a shonky used-car dealer. Sure, she’s put ‘cash for clunkers’ through a greenwash, but it’s a lemon. Don’t buy it. 

Read this article on The Age website.

* B. Van Wee, H. Moll, J. Dirks, ‘Environmental impact of scrapping old cars’, Transportation Research, Part D, 5 (2000), 137-143.

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