Michael Green

Writer and producer

Teaming up and powering down

In Community development, Environment, The Age on

First published in The Age

Too hard for the politicians? In one  town unlikely allies are fighting climate change and winning.

SO FAR, the carbon trading debate has been cast as a battle between greedy businesses on one side and rabid greenies on the other. That’s not how it works in Castlemaine.

There, under the Maine’s Power scheme, the four major employers in the region have quietly teamed up with the local sustainability group and CSIRO to slash their ecological footprints. The employers are committed to cutting their greenhouse emissions by 30 per cent by 2010 (from 2006 levels) and working towards zero net emissions by 2020.

Together, the big four – Don KRC, Flowserve, Victoria Carpets and Mount Alexander Hospital – consume about half the shire’s electricity and natural gas. “They also employ about 2000 people and without them, our economy would collapse,” says Dean Bridgfoot, co-ordinator at Mount Alexander Sustainability Group.

MASG founded the project 18 months ago, launching it in February 2008. “We went to (the employers) and said, ‘You’re crucial to the town and we want you to stay here. We’re also concerned about climate change and we want to take action,’ ” Bridgfoot says.

He stressed their common goals and the businesses were receptive. “It was important that they could see that we were going to listen, be respectful and take their position seriously.”

The project is part of CSIRO’s Sustainable Communities Initiative, which promotes regional action through partnerships between business, government and local groups.

But Maine’s Power isn’t just about greening the town. With higher electricity prices on the way, the project also aims to secure the region’s electricity supply and the future of local industry.

The Mount Alexander shire relies on manufacturing for much of its employment, but it’s a long way from the power generators. Nearly one-fifth of its power is lost in transmission from the Latrobe Valley. The project began with a study of energy use and needs at each site. Then, CSIRO’s experts analysed technology options for the facilities, from solar panels and wind turbines to onsite gas-powered cogeneration (which makes both heat and electricity).

Soon, the scientists will hand over the final report and it will be time for action. The four employers must decide what investment they’ll make.

“What’s good for the environment is usually good for business,” says Bill Youl, manager at Don KRC. “We’ve approached it that way.” The smallgoods manufacturer is the biggest employer in the shire, making up to 1000 tonnes of hams, salamis, sausages and bacon every week.

“It’s an industry that has environmental impacts,” Youl admits, “but it also does a lot for the local community, in terms of employment. We’re keen to make sure we have a sustainable business.”

Don KRC is planning to expand its Castlemaine operations after closing factories in Altona and Spearwood in Western Australia. The company will double production but anticipates that its water use will barely increase. Power-wise, CSIRO’s research suggests that gas-fired cogeneration could satisfy the firm’s electricity and heat needs, while slicing its CO2 emissions.

CSIRO’s expertise has been crucial to the scheme’s success so far. “We’ve had some really eminent people looking through our factory,” Youl says. “It helps you be confident about decisions when you know you’ve got the best in the world giving you advice.”

For Victoria Carpets, the research has shown that cogeneration would be the cheapest strategy for cutting emissions. The regional spinning mill produces wool and wool-blend yarns to supply its Dandenong factory. Mill manager Tony Breslin enthuses about the co-operative process but admits the company has recently become hesitant about its next step.

New carpet is a deferrable expense and since the financial downturn, sales have fallen. That will make any eco investment harder to make. “These last four to five months have created a fair degree of uncertainty,” Breslin says.

The Mount Alexander Shire council will be hoping they decide to go ahead with it. The Maine’s Power project is a key plank of the council’s ambitious green goal – in 2006 it committed to cutting the region’s carbon footprint by 30 per cent by 2010 (from 2000 levels) and to plan for carbon neutrality by 2020.

“It’s a big ship to turn around,” says new Mayor Philip Schier. They’re challenging targets, but there is strong local support. The sustainability group boasts more than 800 members. “It’s an exciting community to be involved with, particularly because the major industries are willing to take it on,” Schier says.

Partly, the council’s policy is about self-preservation – by pursuing early climate change action, the community will adapt ahead of the pack. But it also offers a model for other regions and levels of government. “It’s got to be a local, regional, national and global approach,” Schier says. “Unless you get in there and start tackling it, you are only forever going to be saying it’s somebody else’s problem.”

At Don KRC, cutting emissions isn’t just a sacrifice for the greater good. “It sends the right messages and it makes monetary sense as well,” says Youl. “In the future, companies will see sustainability as one of their key business planks and not something you bolt on the side to keep the community happy. It’s really about what’s good for your business.”

Mount Alexander Sustainability Group, CSIRO

Life saving

In Social justice, The Big Issue on

First published in The Big Issue

Peter Singer, philosopher and surfer, does not believe in retail therapy. In fact, he wants people to give more away. Even in tough economic times, he argues, people can afford to help those less fortunate than themselves.

It’s scorching hot. Peter Singer, philosopher, is sitting in a jumbled cafe-cum-general store in Anglesea, on Victoria’s Great Ocean Road. He’s wearing red board shorts, a beach t-shirt and a cheap digital watch. “Diogenes the Cynic was supposed to have lived in a barrel, otherwise naked,” he quips. “I’m closer to that than a business suit, which is what some American philosophers wear.” The 62-year-old, one of the world’s most influential thinkers, took up long-board surfing five years ago. He is relaxed and cordial, and speaks with unwavering logical control. “There’s a lot of unnecessary suffering in the world,” says Singer, leaning forward in his chair. “I’d like to do something to reduce it.”

That’s the matter-of-fact motivation driving Singer’s work. In a career spanning four decades and 25 books, the Australian-born philosopher, academic and author has confronted issues ranging from animal liberation and euthanasia to the ethics of day-to-day life. “I guess I enjoy a good argument,” he continues, wryly. “People always said, even when I was a kid, that I liked to argue.”

In his latest book, The Life You Can Save, he argues that the rich – and, on a global scale, that means almost all Australians – are morally obliged to give more aid to end extreme poverty overseas. Nearly 27,000 children die every day from preventable diseases and more than 1.4 billion people are living on less than US$1.25 per day.

Singer wants to change our understanding of what it means for people in affluent countries to lead an ethical life. “Most of us are absolutely certain that we wouldn’t hesitate to save a drowning child, and that we would do it at considerable cost to ourselves,” he writes. “Yet while thousands of children die each day, we spend money on things we take for granted and would hardly miss if they were not there. Is that wrong?” Singer’s answer – set out in a clear and compelling manner in his book – is an unequivocal ‘yes’. This is a book that deserves close attention: it has the potential to change lives.

The Life You Can Save is an extended reprise of an argument made in one of Singer’s first published essays, ‘Famine, Affluence and Morality’, written in the early 70s when he was just 25. In that essay, and again now, he argues that people should give money to aid agencies because, by doing so, it is possible to prevent death and suffering without giving up anything nearly as important.

That might not sound controversial. But Singer maintains that when people choose not to donate, and instead spent their money on other items, they are implicitly valuing those items more highly than the lives of the poor.

For Singer, the ethically justifiable action is to give money away to the point where, by giving any more, you would cause as much suffering to yourself as you would relieve by your gift. At the least, spending on luxury goods or exotic holidays is morally wrong.

In the new book, he softens this position by also offering readers a less demanding standard of giving: most people, he argues, should give 5% of annual income (more for the very rich, on a sliding scale). “It’s an attempt to get away from the idea that you have to live so that everything you do is costed against what it could do to save a life of another,” he explains. He maintains that this standard, if widely adopted, would be sufficient to end world poverty.

As well as its ethical slap, the book offers a close factual analysis of global poverty, affluence and the ins-and-outs of aid. Singer examines the reasons why we do and don’t give, rebuts common objections to giving and sets out its likely benefits.

Beachgoers come and go from the café; the cash register rattles. Against this backdrop, extreme poverty seems a far-flung concern. And Singer is wary of the potential for domestic economic worries to further undermine aid for the world’s poorest. But he is encouraged to see more discussion of ethics in public life. With a rack of glossy magazines at his left shoulder, he says: “I think maybe the recession does make us take stock of where we are and what we really need, and [also] makes us think about values in a more fundamental way.”

Since 1999, he has split his time between Australia and the US, where he teaches at Princeton University in New Jersey. He gives a third of his income to charity and says he lives a very comfortable and enjoyable life. “I’ve improved over the years, but I know that there’s still a lot more I could be giving.”

He wants to create a public culture of charitable giving. Citing evidence that people are more willing to give if they know others are too, he encourages his readers to tell friends and family about what they donate. The sweetener to his story is that, far from diminishing your wellbeing, giving money away can make you happier. Both age-old wisdom and recent neurological studies link giving with fulfilment. “You can make a difference and it will make your life better as well,” Singer says. “I really think that’s true.”

The life you can save

Book review: Forecast, by Stephan Faris

In The Big Issue on

Four stars

Climate change is our children’s children’s problem, right? Think again, says Stephan Faris. It’s already upon us, and it hurts.

The globetrotting American journalist’s book details the pressing problems of our warming planet. From genocide in Darfur and malaria in Brazil, to immigration in Europe and hurricanes in Florida, Faris visits the places most prone to climate-induced pain and suffering.

For comfortable greenies, perhaps the most surprising case study will be southern England, where a far-right, anti-immigration party is garnering support by linking nationalism with environmentalism. Faris argues it’s a sign of the selfish politics to come.

This is an interesting, readable and often alarming book. Given the magnitude of the crisis, Faris is at his best when assessing the catastrophic suffering in Darfur and potential for resource wars in south Asia – and not when cataloguing, at length, the incomparably more mundane concerns of US grape growers. 

Despite that, Faris offers a compelling summary of the political, social and humanitarian strife both underway and poised to strike. And he doesn’t spare us our moral responsibility for the dying – after all, it’s rich-country emissions that have done it. 

The green payoff

In Architecture and building, Environment, The Age on

First published in The Sunday Age, Domain

New figures show that making your house more environmentally friendly does indeed increase its value.

IT’S official – higher energy star ratings mean higher sale prices. Research released in December by federal Environment Minister Peter Garrett provides hard proof that the real estate market now values eco-efficiency.

The Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) studied sale prices and star ratings in the ACT and found that for a house worth $365 000, increasing the rating by half a star would add, on average, nearly $4500 to its price.

For homeowners, the new evidence is just one more motivation to take up government rebates for household makeovers – from modest shower roses to grand solar panels. And this year, there’s a suite of extra regulations and incentives to get you thinking eco-smart.

Tony Arnel, Victoria’s Building Commissioner and the chair of the Green Building Council of Australia, says research is piling up – from the United Nations Environment Program and consultants McKinseys, among others – showing that aggressive investment in reconditioning our buildings would have a lush green payoff, even in the short term.

“The building sector, including housing, has been identified as being able to quickly reduce greenhouse gas emissions at least cost,” he says. “We’re having an economic recession but interest in sustainable built environments won’t waver. It will continue to accelerate in 2009. We’re seeing a whole new industry based on water- and energy-saving technologies.”

The insulation trade is running hot. As a part of its anti-recession spending, the federal government will pay for ceiling insulation (up to $1600) in homes that currently don’t have any. It has also increased the rebate for solar hot water systems (now $1600) and the rebate helping landlords insulate their rental properties (now $1000).

The federal government’s Green Loans scheme is also set to start mid-year. It will offer around 200 000 households a free sustainability assessment and then, access to a low-interest loan of up to $10 000 to put the recommendations in place.

While the details aren’t yet finalised, to be eligible for the loan, a household must earn less than $250 000 a year. The government estimates that the scheme will inspire $2 billion of environmentally smart investment.

Here in the wilting garden state, the government’s Victorian Energy Efficiency Target (VEET) kicked off on January 1. It requires that the energy retailers encourage customers to install efficiency measures. Overall, the VEET aims to reduce greenhouse gas emissions enough to make 675 000 houses carbon neutral for a year. With nearly all our electricity coming from high-polluting brown coal, any cut in usage will be good news for the atmosphere.

Governments aren’t the only ones encouraging us to spend green – the private sector is also beginning to rally. The credit union mecu now offers an ‘Eco Pause’ option on its home loans, where borrowers can stop their repayments for three months, or pay half rates for six months, if they spruce up their abode with enviro-friendly features. The credit union also provides discounted interest ‘goGreen’ personal loans to pay for home efficiency improvements.

That’s all good news for Lyn Beinat. With her husband Maurice, she runs ecoMaster, a home energy audit and retrofitting business with 20 staff. EcoMaster assesses the thermal, energy and water performance of buildings. It prepares detailed, costed action plans and has an installation crew that will put the recommendations into place.

The couple’s experience overhauling their own house prompted them to start the business. Years ago, they returned to Australia after a stint in the UK and moved into a very cold house in Mount Macedon. “Our kids used to cry in the morning, ‘Can we go back to England Mummy? It was warmer over there,’” Ms Beinat laughs. “You know there’s something wrong with your house when your kids think that!”

With lots of hard work, they cut their electricity use by 80 per cent and at the same time, raised their winter temperatures from an average of 14 degrees to about 21. “You can have a real win-win out of fixing up your home. Our house is rated six star now,” Ms Beinat says. “It was rated one star when we started, and we’ve done it for less than the cost of stamp duty.”

While the energy audit industry is about to take off, Ms Beinat says business hasn’t been easy. Many people haven’t seen the value of spending money on home efficiency. Energy and water prices may be on the rise, but they are still low enough that some retrofitting measures, especially the more expensive ones like solar panels or double-glazing, take years before they pay for themselves.

“People certainly don’t get a return on investment from new carpets, but they still buy them,” Ms Beinat says. “So why do we only apply an economic filter to ceiling insulation or changing to low energy lights?”

In any case, with her own experience in mind, she argues that retrofitting is one of the few things a homeowner can do to give increased comfort as well as a monetary benefit, in the form of lower bills.

The evidence that better star ratings mean higher house prices adds even more kick to her claims. The ABS research was conducted in the ACT where, since 1999, homeowners have been required to declare their house’s energy efficiency rating when they advertise it for sale. The rules were brought in to provide extra information for consumers.

According to the Federal Environment Department (DEWHA), the scheme helps buyers understand what they’re getting and improves the efficiency of real estate valuations. It also pushes owners to retrofit their homes. The study shows that the cost of adding stars will often be far lower than the extra payoff when it comes to selling.

DEWHA is now working with the states to develop a mandatory disclosure scheme that would apply nationwide, and may include houses up for lease as well as those for sale. 

The low-energy way to beat the heat

HARRY Blutstein and Carol Lawson moved into their Northcote townhouse in early 2007. It didn’t take long to realise something wasn’t quite right. “It got very, very hot,” Mr Blutstein says.

The neat brick townhouse has three levels, including an attic study where Mr Blutstein works. It was always a very comfortable house, the couple says – so long as they kept the cooling running constantly on warm days.  Even worse for their bills, the in-built heating and cooling system was all or nothing. It couldn’t be set to control just one floor.

“This house was architect designed,” Mr Blutstein says. “It was built about 12 years ago, but you almost couldn’t have done a worse job in terms of making it less environmental. So we decided we needed professional advice.”

Although Mr Blutstein works in the sustainability field, he didn’t have the hands-on building know-how to assess the problems and fix them. “Neither of us are handy people,” says Dr Lawson, a GP. “Neither of us does more than the most basic things around the house. It was a big plus to get good practical advice and then have the work done under the one hat.”

They hired ecoMaster to assess their home and recommend steps to cut their energy use. The first step (and the cheapest, at about $300) was draught proofing. The crew installed flip-down draught stoppers and foam seals on doors as well as timber beading around architraves. “In everything we did, that was the best,” Mr Blutstein says. He was surprised to learn just how leaky most homes are – ecoMaster estimates that draughts account for a quarter of all winter heat losses.

Next, they swapped two-dozen halogen downlights with low-energy replacements and put in heavy window drapes on windows that didn’t have them. They installed a 2500-litre water tank for their courtyard garden and switched the old electric hot water service for a super efficient heat pump system.

They also fitted a large external blind to shade the west-facing rooms from the hot afternoon sun. To cool the sweltering attic study, ecoMaster added insulation and recommended a sky window for the south roof face and blinds on north and west windows.

Mr Blutstein estimates that all up, they’ve spent about $10 000 and halved their electricity use. “We could have been comfortable the inefficient way, always heating and cooling the whole house,” he says. “But now we’re getting a much better result for the environment.”

 

The money pit

In Community development, The Big Issue on

First published in The Big Issue

Sometimes city people must leave town to turn their fortunes around, especially as the economy sags. But in Roxby Downs in remote South Australia, Michael Green discovers that mining isn’t the answer for everyone.

As the sun rises on yet another flawless blue sky, Nick Sageman prepares for work. He swings into his 4WD for the 10-minute drive, at 110 kilometres an hour, through the desert to Olympic Dam, BHP Billiton’s massive copper, uranium, gold and silver mine south of Lake Eyre.

A little more than a year ago, the sandy-haired 32-year-old and his partner lived in inner-city Melbourne; now they live in remote northern South Australia, in Roxby Downs. “We couldn’t see any way of being able to build anything unless we could earn heaps more money – which sounds really selfish and it’s not just about money – but for us, we just got tired of living like uni students,” he says. “We’d done it for too long.”

They joined a modern-day gold rush. These days it isn’t about striking it lucky on your own, but rather, about banking a high salary from a minerals corporation. Australians, renowned for living in the east and facing the sea, have begun to turn inwards to get ahead.

In May, the peak mining body, the Minerals Council of Australia, released research predicting a 90,000-strong increase in employment in the industry by 2020. Two months earlier, the Minister for Defence, Joel Fitzgibbon claimed mining companies were stealing the nation’s submariners, following a newspaper report that the navy could only properly crew three of its six Collins-class subs. Since then, however, the global financial crisis has changed many things – not least attitudes to work. It has been suggested that careers in the defence forces now have more appeal to many people. And even if we are recession-bound, a mining job remains a lavish prospect for a worker.

Besides, the canaries are still singing. “There’s good money and plenty of work around so no one thinks much about it,” says Tom Beever, the local Family and Youth Officer in Roxby Downs. “People would know about [the financial crisis] from what they read but there’s no real concern.”

Amid sand dunes five barren hours north of Adelaide, Roxby Downs is full of people from somewhere else. The town recently celebrated its 20th birthday. It was officially opened on 5 November 1988, created by Western Mining Corporation to service the then-new Olympic Dam mine.

Despite its arid setting, Roxby is the land of plenty. With neat streets, perma-blue skies and one boss for all, the town feels like a desert echo of the 1998 Jim Carrey movie The Truman Show. According to the local council, its winding suburban streets and modest weatherboard homes shape the most affluent postcode in the state. In 2006, the median individual weekly income was $1103, more than double the national average.

During the day, the small shopping strip fills with young women pushing their prams. The town boasts a young population and one of the highest birth rates in the nation. Of the 4500 residents, only 150 are aged over 55. Yet, the strangest fact of all is that Roxby is the only town in South Australia without water restrictions. Its sports fields grow lush and green courtesy of the free-flow pumped from the Great Artesian Basin, via a desalination plant at the mine.

For Scott Sauerwald, the desert has been a rich pasture, despite the initial shock. The 42-year-old arrived in town from Adelaide in 1999. “I’d been [working] in an office, in collar and tie, and went to working in a smelter,” he says. “It was a molten metal environment, hot work. After a week I thought, ‘Oh my god what have I done. I wonder if my boss will take me back?’”

Gradually, however, he became accustomed to the physical exertion. Within two months, his wife, Lisa, and two primary school-age children joined him. Part of the attraction was a quieter, safer lifestyle for his kids. “That,” he says, “and chasing money. The wages were definitely better here.” His income leapt overnight by $17 000. Now, adults working full time in the mining industry earn over $100 000, on average.

These days, Sauerwald works in occupational health and safety at the site. Lisa has worked on and off at the mine too. He says couples can “make mini-fortunes” and become financially secure 10 years earlier than they would in the city. He’s seen the benefits on his own bank balance. “If we’d stayed in Adelaide it would have been a grind, a week-to-week existence, whereas here, you don’t worry about the bills that are coming in. Every few years, people can upgrade cars and that material side of things. There’s always that buffer.”

But Sauerwald acknowledges that not everything is perfect. “The big issue here is accommodation.” With high wages, few houses and new fortune seekers arriving everyday, real estate and rental prices are spiralling. BHP Billiton, the mine’s owner since 2005, is planning a huge expansion of operations and a more than doubling of the operational workforce to over 8000. While it’s good news for job seekers, the development will strain local housing and services. “If you can get accommodation here you are laughing, if you can’t, it’s that extra struggle,” Sauerwald says.

Accommodation is not the only problem. The transient nature of the population has some unusual consequences. Although the town has a cemetery, nobody is buried there. “That talks about Roxby, you know,” says Beever. “Not only does no one come from Roxby, but no one identifies themselves with Roxby. They come to chase the big dream of working outback making big money, but there’s been a lot of people leave here shattered because it just didn’t work out.”

As the community counsellor, Beever is exposed to the sadder side of residents’ dreams. “It’s not an easy place to work. Sure, people make a lot of money here, but I don’t know anyone who doesn’t earn what they get. They are a long way from where they come from,” he says.

For many people, a bigger wage just means more spending money, not more savings. Muscle cars and expensive 4WDs cruise the quiet streets at 50 kilometres an hour. One former resident comments on Roxby’s high level of drinking and gambling. Beever agrees: “Even though we’re the highest income in the state, we’ve got one of the highest [rates of] credit card abuse in the state as well. Some people are here because they have to be, because they’re up to the neck in debt.”

For Sageman and his partner, so far, the move is paying off. His wage has surpassed their expectations. “I was looking in the Australian the other day and there were jobs going as a lecturer or a zoologist with postgraduate qualifications. I’m a storeman out there and I’m on about 90 grand. It’s just insane, and that’s totally unqualified.”

The couple are determined not to fall into the spending trap. “I’ve made all those mistakes before,” Sageman says. They plan to return to the city in a few years. “We won’t leave here without some form of security, whether that’s a house, or a block of land,” he says. “We know it won’t always be like this. When we do go back to the city, I’m not going to be able to earn anywhere near as much money. But at least we’ll be able to buy into the market.”

Sometimes, they miss the city life. “Our interests aren’t really the interests of your average person here, I guess, in that we’re not into cars and motorbikes and shooting and things like that,” Sageman says. “We still feel a bit of an odd couple out but there’s more people like us moving up here everyday.”

When they get the chance, they drive out beyond the mine, along the dirt road that leads to the famous Oodnadatta track where the old Ghan railway follows one side and Lake Eyre, the other. Coming over a low rise, the land opens up wide, flat and red to the horizon. It’s the sort of landscape where you can see what’s coming at you, and make plans for the future. From here, it’s Wall Street that seems remote.

The job seeker

Andrea Morris lost her job in Adelaide real estate, and six days later, arrived in Roxby Downs looking for work in the mine. “I just decided, ‘Right if I’m going to do it, lets do it.’” The 50-year-old has just moved in with her daughter and her daughter’s partner, who were already living in the local caravan park. “I could be doing cleaning or something for six months before I get a job at the mines. You just take your chances.”

The ex-mine worker

Engineer Rachael Wauchope left Brisbane for Roxby Downs, and stayed five years. Her career bloomed. She liked living in a close-knit community and being surrounded by the beauty of the desert. “Emus walked through town. One even stuck its head through our front door and had a look around our lounge room,” she says. “I loved my job and had some good friends there. The money was great… but eventually the isolation and the lack of cultural activities got to me.”

The leaver

“My sister was up here and she said it was a good place to make money,” says Brian McKay, a landscape gardener in his early twenties. But things didn’t work out as expected for the Melbourne man; the dollars have come and gone. “I was bored out of my brain so I went out and bought a motorbike. Alcohol also drains his budget. Time to move on again.

Power from the ground up

In Environment, The Age on

First published in The Age, Insight

Around the country, small groups of ordinary but passionate people are banding together, lest they succumb to despair, to force action on global warming.

A FEW weeks ago, a small group of parents and young children — in orange T-shirts and sensible hats — sat in the park at the corner of Spring and Lonsdale streets. The parents sipped drinks and gossiped, and their kids squealed and bolted around the grass. Placards leaned against the fence: “All I want for Christmas is a future”, and “My future is priceless”.

The Walk Against Warming protest had just finished. This group was Families Facing Climate Change, a collection of 10 Ashburton women and their families. They live in Peter Costello’s electorate, Higgins, and formed their group in 2006 in the playground of their kids’ primary school.

“We just were really worried about our children and their future,” Anna Mezzetti said. She’s a 37-year-old mother of three. “We’re just families. We’re just ordinary people, but it’s about being empowered to go and talk to the local MP and say, ‘This issue is really important to us.’ “

Her co-founder, Dimity Williams, added: “We read the science. When you read that, you can’t understand why nothing’s happening — we’re still frustrated. We thought rather than just complaining about it and getting depressed we would actually try and do something.”

They’re not alone. Grassroots climate action groups are appearing like white blood cells at a wound. Over the past two years, an unprecedented, unreported and largely underestimated climate movement has sprung up throughout our cities and regions. Many of the members have dedicated decades to living simply and sustainably. The great majority though, are new.

Groups start up so rapidly it is difficult to know their numbers, but according to Melbourne’s Climate Action Centre, Victoria probably has about 50, and most are less than two years old. Nationwide, there are well over 200, and Australia is not unique in this trend.

Before long we will see whether such groups can make a real difference in the wider world — one of rising temperatures and melting ice caps on the one hand, and the forces of status quo and instant gratification on the other.

The worldwide climate movement is comprised of small groups with different goals. It has no single agenda or set of policy proposals, but collectively (in some cases unknowingly), it is working to influence negotiations at the Copenhagen Climate Summit in December 2009, where all countries will establish the successor to the Kyoto Protocol. There, our leaders must agree on swift, strong emissions cuts if there is to be any hope of averting catastrophic climate change.

James Whelan is one of the optimists. He runs the Change Agency, a Brisbane NGO that consults for activists. He has been around the block with any social issue you care to name and says the climate campaign is different.

“In the history of social movements in Australia, you can’t find a parallel. There’s nothing like it for its diversity, for its rate of growth, and for its inclusiveness. It includes coal miners. It’s rural. It’s urban. And it’s a mistake for anybody to think the climate change movement is part of the environment movement. The climate movement is a much bigger beast.

“You can hold a public meeting in any urban centre in Australia now, and initiate one or more climate action groups,” he says. “This is a movement where the grassroots element is taking the lead and the NGOs are following, some of them faster than others.”

At Melbourne’s Trades Hall, the Climate Action Centre has just opened. It will be run by, and for, these local groups. It aims to strengthen the movement by developing, supporting and forging links between groups. It will hold forums on current issues, and share resources and research.

Broadly, there are two types of climate groups, though often they overlap: political action groups, such as Families Facing Climate Change, and practical action groups. The latter may be solar bulk-buying collectives such as the Dandenong Ranges Renewable Energy Association, (or personal carbon-footprint cutters such as the Westside Carbon Rationing Action Group.

Their diverse membership bears witness to a wellspring of concern rising from deep within the nation’s psyche. But they face a huge task.

Recently, I saw climate scientist Professor David Karoly speak to a one-third full auditorium at the State Library. He is professor of meteorology at Melbourne University and was a lead author on last year’s report by the UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).

Karoly said many rates of change are already at the upper limit or outside the range of the IPCC climate change projections — including increases in emissions, sea-level rise and arctic sea ice melt, and decreases in rainfall in southern Australia. The climate is changing faster than the IPCC projected.

Even under the most ambitious targets spelled out by the Federal Government’s climate-change adviser, Ross Garnaut, there is a 50 per cent risk of global warming exceeding 2 degrees, a rise that would cause extraordinary human suffering. Karoly noted that not many people would take a train with a 50 per cent chance of heading off a cliff.

In this light, the Federal Government’s proposed Carbon Pollution Reduction Scheme will be nowhere near enough. Labor’s pre-election commitment to a 60 per cent emissions reduction by 2050 will not meet Australia’s share of the worldwide burden. Cuts must be swifter and deeper.

As I listened to Karoly, I scanned the room and saw wide eyes and empty seats. Later, I left with a shocking and surreal message: the immediate future of our civilisation is threatened. The conditions of life on earth are certain to change. What we do now will determine by how much.

I’d just learnt about the globally accepted scientific research, but oddly, back on the street, my new knowledge felt radical and subversive, and somehow too confronting to share. This emergency is not widely understood. The climate action groups may be multiplying, but among the public at large, alarm about climate change has fallen from its peak.

In November last year, just before the federal election, 50,000 people crowded Federation Square for the Walk Against Warming. They wanted Howard out and, shortly after, they got it. At this year’s walk, however, numbers were way down. The organisers, Environment Victoria, estimated 15,000; The Sunday Age reported 5000. It was a disappointing turnout.

Has an opportunity been lost?

Social researcher Hugh Mackay believes the public was ready for tough sacrifices earlier this year. “The willingness of the community to act in the first six months of this year was palpable. They were waiting to be asked to do something.” That attitude could only last so long. “People’s attention span on issues like this is quite short, unless they can convert their concern into action very quickly,” Mackay says.

For many people, the climate emergency is no longer so pressing: the global financial crisis has emerged to divert public attention. Also, the Rudd Government has taken some of the pressure off by at least acknowledging the existence of the climate problem and initiating some green policies. But even the Government is sending mixed messages. In the furore over rising petrol prices, nearly all voices argued that rises must be restrained. As Mackay notes, when our leaders say we can use petrol as freely as ever, many people assume there isn’t a carbon emission catastrophe after all. The same logic applies when the public sees that the biggest polluters are likely to receive compensation under Labor’s proposed emissions trading scheme.

There’s one caveat to all this gloom. Alongside the community’s waning concern, Mackay says he has observed a contrary trend. He says we have woken up from a long stretch of disengagement from social, environmental and political issues. He’s not certain how these two trends match, or what will happen next. But the grassroots movement has already influenced the debate. Last month, Tony Windsor, independent MP for New England in northern NSW, introduced a private member’s bill, the Climate Protection Bill 2008, to Federal Parliament. Windsor calls it “the people’s climate protection bill”. It was born about six months ago in his electorate office, following a visit from concerned constituents. Since then, 65 climate groups have been involved in its drafting.

The bill would bind the Government to deeper emissions cuts: by 2020, 30 per cent below 1990 levels; and by 2050, 80 per cent. Among other things, it also sets steeper renewable energy targets and mandates greenhouse impact statements on new legislation. (According to Karoly, even those targets are not strict enough.)

The bill was loosely based on UK legislation, originally driven by grassroots organisations and just passed by their parliament. Windsor says his bill’s success depends on the public will.

“The people can actually drive this, if they activate themselves. But if they just sit around and wait for the Parliament to do something, my guess is they’ll end up with a watered-down arrangement probably not worth pursuing … I think people will ratchet the pressure up (on their MPs). I hope they do.”

They might. Community organising is back in vogue — most notably in President-elect Barack Obama’s grassroots campaign, which was fuelled and funded by record individual donations of time and money. American writer Paul Hawken, in his book Blessed Unrest, argues that the start of the 21st century has seen the emergence of a compassionate, thriving global movement for environmental and social justice. He sees a movement of more than 1 million organisations, from neighbourhood associations to international charities, that is causing profound societal change, step by step.

Hawken writes that when asked for his view of the future, he always replies the same way. “If you look at the science that describes what is happening on earth today and aren’t pessimistic, you don’t have the correct data. If you meet the people in this unnamed movement and aren’t optimistic, you haven’t got a heart.”

Dr James Goodman has long researched social activist movements. He is a senior lecturer in the school of social and political change at the University of Technology, Sydney. He and his team have interviewed climate activists in Britain and in Australia. “One of the things we explore is what motivates people, given the scale of the problem and given that governments don’t seem to be listening,” he says.

“It’s a very intense personal responsibility. It’s almost like an emotional reaction. It’s the sense that ‘we’ve got nothing else to lose’.”

SO FAR, he says, the UK activists are generally pessimistic about the future, and the Australians are more hopeful, believing their actions can bring about the changes they want. In February, action groups from all over the country will meet in Canberra for the Climate Action Summit. Over four days, they will hold workshops, protests and strategy meetings. They will petition MPs and encourage one another to keep badgering their representatives all year.

That’s what Families Facing Climate Change plans to do. It ran candidates’ forums before the last state and federal elections, and has met state Labor MP Bob Stensholt and Peter Costello. “When we met with Peter Costello, he didn’t know what green power was,” said Dimity Williams in the afternoon sun.

“We explained to him what that was and how he could get 100 per cent green power for his house. I lent him Tim Flannery’s book The Weather Makers, which he hadn’t read even though Flannery was the Australian of the Year. I think we’re doing him a favour. The politicians learn from us.”

But at this year’s Walk Against Warming, for a while at least, it was hard not to feel despair. Afterwards, I sat in the park for a while, hungry and tired, at first contemplating the science and then, the improbability and complexity of the response required.

I thought about what makes individuals form grassroots groups, about why some feel compelled to leave their lounge rooms and stride out against the gale, willing the whole world to do the same.

Anna Mezzetti explained her group’s motivations: “If you don’t try and do something, then you just despair. It’s better when you band together with other people, rather than being alone, worrying. We actually felt uplifted when we discovered each other.”

Dimity Williams went on: “It’s harder and harder to remain hopeful, but I don’t want my children to turn to me in 15 years’ time and say why weren’t you doing anything?”

A newspaper blew across the grass, its loose pages catching and spreading in the wind. Instinctively, the kids in orange T-shirts ran and gathered them as best they could.

There is hope in action.

Permaculture club

In Community development, Environment, The Age on

First published in The Age

An Australian community group is putting the backyard at the forefront of environmental change.

The yard is swarming with straw hats. It is a sunny day and people are working hard. A handsome, muscular man in khaki is wielding a pickaxe. As soon as I see him I think of Jamie Durie, but there’s no TV crew here.

This isn’t Backyard Blitz, it’s a permablitz. This is how it works: an enthusiastic group of volunteers come to your house and donate equipment, plants and seeds. They work with you to transform your garden into an organic food-producing Eden. You don’t even have to supply lunch – they’ll bring that, too.

Permablitz is a catchy contraction of permaculture and backyard blitz. Basically, it’s a good old-fashioned working bee with a twist.

Today we are attacking Fiona and Anthony’s place in Heidelberg West, outer suburban Melbourne. The house is square, smallish and rendered in cream, with a corrugated-iron roof. There is a soccer field bordering it on one side, from where a few large gums overlook the fence. There are vegie patches in the front yard. The backyard is open, grassy and strewn with debris.

Fiona looks at her lawn and says, “It’s just a mess.” She’s right. There are mounds of gravel and dirt and plastic. Newspapers are soaking in a green frog pond and a shed is in pieces against the wall. The washing is still on the Hills Hoist.

The first blitz was held more than 18 months ago for Vilma, a 70-year-old El Salvadorian woman. “It was a beautiful day,” says Permablitz founder Dan Palmer. “When we arrived there was a small plot of lawn and when we left it was garden. A year later, it’s still pumping and it’s brought a lot of joy.”

It all came about when Palmer crossed paths with a South American community group in Melbourne’s south-eastern suburbs.

Young environmental skill met with co-operative spirit and, since then, permablitzes have been held all over the city. For now, Palmer does much of the organisation, but there’s a website where people can find information and organise their own blitzes.

“It would be nice if it became kind of viral,” he says. And his wish could be coming true – the blitzing bug recently spread to backyards in Sydney and New Zealand.

According to the website, a blitz aims to create or add to edible gardens; share skills about permaculture and sustainable living; build community networks; and have fun.

“Permaculture is a way of designing the places we live to be sustainable, diverse and abundant by working with nature rather than fighting against it,” Palmer says. “It covers every aspect of a healthy sustainable life: food, water, waste, shelter, local community and economy – you name it.”

A well-designed, efficient garden can provide lots of food using fewer resources than typically go into supermarket produce. So growing your own vegies is a practical response to environmental problems such as climate change.

A few weeks prior to each blitz there is a planning day, where the owners and volunteers come up with a design for the garden.

Today, there’s a wish list of tasks posted next to an old bath tub. We are going to build more garden beds and put a pond in the front yard. One shed is to be moved to the backyard and another erected for a fox-proof chook pen.

“The plans change every hour on the hour,” Anthony tells me as debate rages over where to put the shed. I wander to the front yard and bump into a lengthy discussion over whether to buy a pond liner or to use a decaying green wading pool.

All is resolved by the time we tuck into pesto, tabouli and salad, brought by the volunteers. While we eat, Fiona tells us about her grey-water system and her long-term plans for the garden. Palmer checks the wish list: things are looking good. We are well-fed, inspired and enthusiastic to continue work.

Volunteers come and go as the afternoon progresses. But exactly who are they? Fiona confides that she knows only “about 10 per cent” of the people filling her yard. “I couldn’t have got this many people if I’d paid them,” Anthony tells me.

Initially, Palmer says, there were more people from the South American community, but the demographic has changed as blitzes move around different suburbs. People in their 20s are the majority, but there are people of all ages. Many of the regulars have completed a permaculture design course and are keen to put their new-found skills into practice.

But not only people who’ve studied permaculture come along. Others just think it’s a great idea and are interested in learning about gardening. Tanya, a budding documentary filmmaker and permablitz veteran, is one of those. She tells me that she loves the sense of community, skill-sharing and cross-generational support.

At the end of the day, the wish list hasn’t quite been fulfilled. The pond and garden beds are finished. The chook shed is up but roofless and the other shed remains unmoved. Despite this, Fiona is thrilled with the progress. “It’s just the beginning…but we’ve done so much. It would have taken ages to do all this by ourselves.”

Fiona and Anthony aren’t the only ones who are excited. With environmental issues entrenched as front-page news, Palmer says that interest in permaculture is growing exponentially. “Right now, there are a lot of really fired-up people getting involved.”

So, keep your green thumbs at the ready: a blitz could be coming to a backyard near you.

What is permaculture?

Australians Bill Mollison and David Holmgren coined the term “permaculture” (short for both permanent agriculture and permanent culture) in 1978, in their book Permaculture One. They spelt out a revolutionary food production theory, in which growers create their own integrated ecosystem, each aspect helping the others to flourish and reducing overall resource use. Since then, permaculture principles have blossomed all over the world.

Five permaculture gardening tips

Crop rotation: boost soil nutrients and avoid pest and disease problems by changing plant groups in order: first legumes, then cabbages, tomatoes, onions and root vegetables, and so on.

Grey water: if you use mild vegetable soaps for washing, recycle the water onto your garden.

Weed management: cover garden beds with mulch to control weeds.

Companion plants: grow herbs and flowers throughout your garden. Mixed plantings will confuse potential pests.

Indigenous plants: native species provide habitat and food for indigenous wildlife.

Source: Rosemary Morrow, Earth User’s Guide to Permaculture, Kangaroo Press, NSW, 1993, page 8

Best footprint forward

In Architecture and building, Environment, The Age on

A carbon neutral home isn’t science fiction. It’s coming to Melbourne, and it will be on sale from next year.

Here’s the plan for a new house in our outer suburbs: an open plan living area, with four bedrooms and two bathrooms, plus a theatre, an outdoor patio and a double garage. It’ll have a contemporary look, with a wood-panelled exterior and a flat roof.

Sounds unremarkable, right?

Actually, that’s the sketch of Australia’s first commercially designed carbon neutral house. With a combination of smart planning, passive solar design and whiz bang machinery it will generate at least as much energy as it uses.

The plan for the Zero Emission House was launched in late September at the World Sustainable Building Conference, held in Melbourne. The ground-breaking eco home is a joint venture between CSIRO, Delfin Lend Lease and Henley Property Group, with more partners yet to come.

The project’s foundations were laid over a year ago, when CSIRO began a study into low emissions housing around the world. Dr Greg Foliente, Principal Research Scientist in CSIRO’s Sustainable Ecosystems team, visited overseas prototypes, including some in the UK, where all new housing is planned to be carbon neutral by 2016.

His team also analysed efficient designs across Australia’s different weather zones, from tropical Far North Queensland to four-seasons Melbourne. “We looked at what we can do with the best knowledge we have, if we just change the way we build and put in appliances,” Dr Foliente says. “We found out that we can reduce the footprint by between 60 and 80 per cent. Right now.”

Next, the task is to bring the blueprint to the suburbs. Dr Foliente’s study tour taught him that most eco display homes look odd and don’t appeal to the mass market. Determined not to build a house “like a space ship”, CSIRO chose to involve a commercial developer and builder to tell them what buyers want.

At first, with those “weird looking” concept houses in mind, Peter Hayes, Managing Director of Henley Property Group, felt nervous about the project. “I thought it would be terrifying for a volume builder to try to do.”

Happily, it hasn’t turned out that way. “This is actually a regular house. It’s contemporary because we are doing a very contemporary range,” Mr Hayes says. “When you drive down the street you won’t know the difference.”

The design process wasn’t overly difficult. “Technically, we don’t see it as a very hard thing to do,” says Mr Hayes. The trick was to pay close attention the home’s orientation and use CSIRO’s expertise to fine-tune the details [see box].

Construction will begin early in 2009 and be finished before the end of the year. Then, to test the house’s performance in practice, a family of willing renters will move in. CSIRO will monitor their energy usage patterns over a full 12 months.

The home will be open for display before the tenants move in and Henley plans to sell the design immediately. “We’ll be offering the home to the public with or without the [solar] cells, as a regular Henley home,” Mr Hayes says. “We hope to extend our product range to include more of them.”

The only catch for the enthusiastic buyer is, unsurprisingly, a higher price tag than that of a standard new home. Similarly sized Henley homes sell for between $150 000 and $200 000, and while the costs haven’t yet been finalised, Mr Hayes expects that the extra expense will be “in the tens of thousands of dollars”. His estimate doesn’t count the solar panels, which could add the same again.

Delfin Lend Lease acknowledges that higher costs are a concern for some people. “Our research indicates that the marketplace wants a more sustainable housing option,” says Bryce Moore, Chief Operating Officer. “But their preparedness to pay for it is another matter.”

He says that while the Zero Emission House project will mean some extra dollars, it’s a design that will become much more affordable over time. The home, to be built on Delfin’s Laurimar site, fits perfectly with the company’s goals for its new developments. “For the next generation of Delfin communities, we have an aspiration to achieve zero carbon [emissions]. This house is one aspect of that,” Mr Moore says.

Also, the big upside for buyers will be dramatically lower running costs and better long-term value, as Mr Hayes makes clear. “Energy is going to get more expensive. The resale value of these of these homes is obviously going to be greater than the resale value of a home that’s got five stars or no stars on it.”

With his plan about to come to fruition, CSIRO’s Dr Foliente hopes the design will catch on all over the country. “We hope to target the mass housing market immediately, not five or ten years from now.”

CSIRO’s goal is to significantly reduce domestic carbon footprints. “That’s our contribution to the global warming challenge,” he says. “Every household can potentially have a contribution. Hopefully it’s the start of a social transformation across Australia.”

Living clean, green and cheap

Although plans are not yet set in stone, the 25-square Zero Emission House will be at least an 8-star rating under the current system. It will use about 70 per cent less power than a 5-star equivalent.

It will run entirely on renewable electricity – no gas – generated from solar panels and possibly, mini wind turbines. The home will be connected to the grid but also have some battery storage. Over the year, it will produce at least as much energy as it uses.

Henley and CSIRO have designed the home especially for the block chosen on Delfin Lend Lease’s Laurimar site in Doreen, 30 kilometres north of Melbourne.

With precise local modelling, CSIRO has perfected the amount of insulation for the floor, ceiling and walls. They’ve balanced the insulation against the ‘thermal mass’ of the building materials (like the concrete slab, which helps even out day and night temperature changes) to make the home as comfortable as possible.

The designers have also attended to passive solar principles, like positioning living areas to soak up the northern sun, while calculating eaves to let in winter rays and shade the summer heat.

The house will be stocked with the most efficient off-the-shelf fittings and appliances available. Reverse-cycle air-conditioning will do the heating and cooling. A smart electricity meter and feedback system will tell the residents exactly how much energy they’re guzzling and where it’s going. The report cards can even be sent to the tenants’ mobile phones.

Out of the lab

The Zero Emission House isn’t the only eco building project under way at CSIRO. The nation’s top research scientists are working on a street of innovations that will change our real estate. Here’s a sample:

Solar cooling

The Residential Desiccant Cooling (RedeCOOL) project is a solar powered air-conditioner especially for the home. It’s in development at CSIRO’s Newcastle climate test facility, where the scientists can mimic different weather conditions to test their product.

RedeCOOL is a particularly nifty idea because we use our air conditioners when the sun is most ferocious, but it could be a few years before it’s publicly available.

Temperature control

RedeCOOL’s cousin, OptiCOOL, automatically controls the heating, cooling and ventilation systems in commercial buildings. These systems normally gobble about 60 per cent of a building’s energy.

OptiCOOL uses smart software to sense and respond to different temperatures and occupancy throughout a building. By starting and shutting down according to need, it chops energy use without compromising comfort. It’s already running in a number of commercial buildings.

Lightweight concrete

CSIRO’s Dr Swee Mak and his team were inspired by the structure of bone, which has a strong casing around a porous interior. Their product, HySSIL, weighs half as much as normal concrete, but is just as strong. And what’s more, their panels offer five times the thermal insulation of the standard grey stuff.

With far less embodied energy than brick, the efficient production process could help to demolish greenhouse gas emissions. It’s moving to the commercial stage, and the first HySSIL home is already under construction.

Develop smart

How do planners, developers, architects and builders find out the facts on sustainability? CSIRO’s researchers have launched a website, to help make sure our design and construction professionals are in the eco-know.

It’s got dozens of fact sheets, from wastewater planning to walkable neighbourhoods, as well as case studies of some the best developments in Australia and abroad.

Thinking outside the bin

In Environment, The Age on

First published in The Age

Recycling means much more than sorting papers from plastic. For National Recycling Week Michael Green looks at new eco-friendly ways.

FASHION

Founder Kate Pears held her first swap in 2004, and has made it a regular occurrence since early last year. Now there are separate trading parties for women, men, and mums and bubs. There are also accessory and designer-label exchanges for the super stylish.

Pears says her events are both environmentally and socially beneficial. “It makes strangers jump into conversation as they share the histories of the garments. I like the fact that it’s not radical. It’s just about sharing more.” And of course, swappers gladly sidestep “the post-consumption regret of maxing their credit card”.

Sustainability doesn’t have to be boring, Pears says. “In the case of our events, it should involve lots of glamorous clothes, a good giggle and a cocktail.” But exchanges do have a serious benefit. Planet Ark says swapping one cotton dress rather than buying it new saves about 22,000 litres of water. By diverting goods from landfill, it also reduces greenhouse gas emissions.

For recycling week, the organisation has released a guide to running your own swap party. This is how it works: each item is traded for one token, and the token can then be used to purchase new treasures. Swaps can be run with anyone from friends to sporting clubs, and for products as diverse as clothes and gardening tools.

ARTISAN

In markets and boutiques across the city, crafty types are resuscitating our cast-offs, administering a healthy dose of style, and selling them back.

Sophie Splatt sews wallets from old dress patterns and picture books, as well as purses, bags and badges from vintage fabrics. The 28-year-old, who sells her quirky wares under the name Mistress of the Upper Fifth, is motivated both by green and aesthetic concerns.

She aims to reduce her environmental impact by using pre-loved goods wherever possible. Happily, she also prefers the style and quality of second-hand textiles to new ones. “I started collecting fabrics years ago and my collection just grew and grew. I decided to start my own business to cut it, but it’s just gotten bigger.”

She says more and more people are shaping new products from others’ castaways. “There’s a culture of reusing things here and it’s something I haven’t seen so much in other cities. Whenever I go to markets I’m astounded by what people make and the ideas they come up with.”

Another of those ideas is Rebound Books. Northcote couple Natalie and Ben Mason create new notebooks and photo albums by re-binding old hardback covers with fresh recycled or denim paper.

The spare-room workshop of their Northcote house is stocked with binders, guillotines and old books. The couple source their hardbacks from op shops and library discards.

“Every time we go into an op shop, we go straight to the bookshelves. I no longer go to the shoes,” Natalie says, laughing.

Even the new paper has an old story. Their supplier in the US makes its stock by boiling down denim scraps bound for landfill. “There are no trees in it at all. It’s fully-recycled cotton paper,” Natalie says.

FOOD

FareShare rescues food destined for landfill and transforms it into nutritious meals for the needy. “It’s all absolutely perfect food that would have been thrown away because people can’t on-sell it,” production co-ordinator Julien Jane says, while her volunteers roll out pastry offcuts donated by Boscastle Pies.

Formerly called One Umbrella, the organisation makes more than 2000 meals every day in its Abbotsford kitchen, from sausage rolls and quiches to pasta dishes. It also delivers thousands of donated meals, such as pre-wrapped baguettes. “We haven’t spent anything on food in three years, it’s all been donated,” Jane says. More than 80 businesses donate food, none of it past its use-by date.

Jane strives to produce dishes high in protein and fibre and is proud of her kitchen’s efficiency. “Some restaurants have a wastage of up to 40%. We have a wastage of around 1%.”

That’s a number Paul Martin would admire. Years ago, the former chef, 31, began making fuel from fish-and-chip oil. Now he’s a biodiesel consultant and recently published a book on the subject, Grown Fuel.

Martin has also been a sometime ‘freegan’, eating only discarded food. “I’ve been in houses where we lived solely from supermarket rubbish bins, and I’ve never lived in a house that had so much food. We even had a party once where we had a massive bucket of prawns.”

For him, trespass is more of a concern than salmonella. “I know how to tell if food is off and I’ve never ever gotten sick from eating anything out of the bin.” He says the classic example is a tray of bottles turfed because one has broken. “Sometimes you just can’t work out why they’ve thrown it out. I wish the supermarkets would give the food away to charity or customers. It’s a big waste.”

We have great potential to reclaim resources, Martin says, “in all areas, from building to food. There are all sorts of things out there for free.”

FareShare, Grown Fuel, Mistress of the Upper Fifth, Rebound Books

Shacking up

In Architecture and building, Culture, The Age on

Out of the square, a new exhibition at the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery, drops in on local beach house architecture – past, present and future. Michael Green brushes off the sand and tours five of the best.

From its genesis as a humble shack to the cantilevered glass showcase of today, the beach house has long been an important part of Victoria’s architectural vernacular. Many fine examples are dotted around our coastal fringes but it is along the Mornington Peninsula – from the western foreshore to Port Phillip Bay – that our beach-house identity has been defined. By the 1950s, “nearly every architect of note who worked in Melbourne build a house there at some time,” wrote architect Robin Boyd in 1952 in Australia’s Home. “And in most cases they allowed themselves to experiment, to be freer and easier than was their custom in the city.” A new exhibition, opening Thursday at the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery, will track the journey from conception to creation of 35 of the most exciting projects, including the following.

Ranelagh (Ship House)

If a good beach house should evoke the sea, then Ranelagh is safely moored to success. The ‘Ship House’ boasts ground floor porthole-windows and an elegant steel spiral staircase leading to a sunroom and roped-off viewing decks.

Built in 1935 and still standing today, the Mt Eliza home is one of the oldest featured in the MPRG exhibition.

In May 1936, it graced the cover of The Australian Home Beautiful. The magazine praised its designer, “that very modern architect, Mr Roy Grounds”, and judged that the Ship House was “one of the most intriguing seaside houses Melbourne has ever seen”.

Grounds, best known for the National Gallery of Victoria on St Kilda Road, built the two-bedroom cottage for his family. It was an innovative structure for its time, built with pre-fabricated cement and steel panels. The ship shape and stark materials stood out against the open landscape, and the upper deck commanded a spectacular view of the bay.

As Home Beautiful declared, the Ship House, “is definitely a ship aground, but no wreck.”

Ryan House

Tucked behind a sand dune, this Somers hideaway was both eye-catching and unassuming. Designed by architect Peter Burns and built in 1963, the modest, elliptical Ryan House rested comfortably in a grove of tea-trees and banksias.

Unfortunately, like a number of buildings in the exhibition, the home has since been demolished. Doug Evans, former associate professor of architecture at RMIT, says the shack didn’t “attempt to swallow the view”. Instead, it was “an introverted little thing, a bit like a rowboat turned upside down.”

It had sloping cedar walls, with both bubble and vertical slit windows. Bedrooms curved along one wall. “In the centre”, Burns wrote in 1963, “a concrete volcano of a fireplace springs from a warm brick floor and is capped by a curving copper canopy and flue.”

“It’s certainly got that hippy look about it,” Evans admits. But it wasn’t a slapdash counterculture hut. Burns was interested in caves as an analogy for home. He wanted to create places of refuge and belonging away from the wars and economic upheavals of the twentieth century.

“It was all about enclosure,’ Evans says. “He hit on something that was interesting other architects around the world in the fifties and sixties – the insecurity of the modern condition.”

Sorrento House 1982

“Beach houses should be fun to be in,” says architect Col Bandy. And his early eighties getaway is just that. The Sorrento House is an informal, low maintenance escape from city life.

The three-bedroom wooden home has an unusual design. “It’s basically a pitched-roof house but it has pieces chopped out and bits added on that change it quite dramatically,” Bandy says. The weatherboards are set at opposing angles. “At that stage of my career I liked the idea of manipulating traditional forms.”

The home was built on a block thick with tea-tree and Bandy decided to keep as much as possible. He tried to create “a more natural object in a natural environment.”

Exhibition curator Rodney James describes a relaxed, playful holiday home. “It’s the classic weekender. It has flowing open spaces inside, so when extra people come you can find room for them. It’s about bringing people together rather than sending them to the outskirts of the house.”

St Andrews Beach House

Sean Godsell’s creation rises above the scrub and dunes in a standoff with the Southern Ocean. The striking 2005 retreat has caught a wave of prestigious awards, including the Australian Institute of Architects Robin Boyd Award in 2006.

The long, rectangular structure with a gaping mouth looks, strangely, like a beautiful shipping container. The building both protects from the elements and adapts to them. Its rusting steel skin shelters a three-bedroom home, with the living and sleeping areas separated by a weather-exposed deck.

Set on stilts, the St Andrews Beach House also reinterprets the older-style buildings of the area. In years gone by, there were many fibro-cement shacks on sticks along the peninsula back beach.

Despite it’s intimidating exterior, the interior is neither too formal nor too precious. “The purpose of going to the beach for the weekend is to relax,” Godsell says. “When you’ve just spent a day surfing, there’s nothing more boring than not going inside because you might destroy the flooring.”

Unlike beach houses further north, Victorian weekenders must be comfortable throughout very different seasons. Godsell says the winter wind at St Andrews Beach is furious and bitterly cold. “When a storm brews at sea it comes straight across that coast. [In the house] there’s a giant picture window and deck where you can sit and watch – it’s some of the best free theatre you’ll ever get.”

Platforms for pleasure

So far, peninsula architecture has been more progressive and experimental than its suburban cousin – that’s the inspiration for the MPRG exhibition. But what comes next? To find out, curator Rodney James commissioned the Platforms for Living project. Five firms each designed a speculative house for a different coastal region.

For their part, WSH Architects fashioned Platforms for Pleasure, an action-packed, tongue-in-cheek getaway for the bay beach at Sorrento. It’s a re-imagined shack for the 21st century, radically different from a city home.

“Beach houses are becoming like normal houses,” says WSH director Andrew Simpson, disapprovingly. Instead, his team pictures a seaside springboard for leisure and pleasure. The outdoor space is designed for activities as varied as rock climbing and astronomy, while the indoor living area is simple and compact. It could be only 50 square meters – five times smaller than the current average home.

Simpson says the concept is meant to be both entertaining and radical, but also reflect the firm’s approach to sustainability. “We’re trying to come up with designs that respond to contemporary lifestyles but do so over a much smaller floor area.”