The power of gardening
“If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need,” declared Cicero. He was an Italian, of course, but it is the English who have proved the most fanatical gardeners. It is traditionally our dominant national pastime.
Not for all of us, of course. Over two million homes don’t have a garden — that’s about ten per cent. I come from a deprived childhood in this respect — however, we had a large balcony which was an intense focus of horticultural activity. I still recall the smell of the tobacco plants. Others who are gardenless have found an outlet in window boxes or entrances to their front doors.
Also, some of those who don’t have their own garden will be among the 300,000 who have an allotment. Others may be involved in community or ”guerilla” gardening.
The average size of our gardens is 150 square feet. Billions are spent on them. Great attention is paid to advice provided by Alan Titchmarsh or Monty Don on the BBC or Netflix. Newspapers have special supplements devoted to the theme.
I suspect that during this period of enforced captivity. Garden centres have been obliged to remain closed as they have been judged “inessential” — something that could provoke debate. However, they are allowed to offer a “click and collect” service for online orders.
One way or another those with a quiet determination to pursue this most favoured hobby will find a way to do so. There is nothing new in this. Nor is it restricted by social class. Sure, those visiting the Chelsea Flower Show or Kew Gardens over the years might have felt a sense of “middle England” being out in force. But nature asserts itself in the most unpromising of environments. Impressive displays in plant pots appear in the corridors of even the most brutal of concrete council tower blocks. Municipal housing officers might issue edicts that the “communal walkways be kept clear” on grounds of “health and safety”. But such pettifogging instructions tend to be quietly defied.
What are the political implications of all this? Marx and Engels in their correspondence concluded that the prospects of instigating an English revolution were remote given our willingness to spend so many hours absorbed in an activity that causes anger and frustration to evaporate and which instills a sense of patience.
Such assertions carried a certain arrogance. It presumed that Communism was such an obviously splendid idea that the only reason we hadn’t brought it about was that we were busy planting rhododendrons. But they did have a point about the calming impact of gardening on the national psyche. It does make us a moderate, tolerant people.
It follows that the gardening may explain the popular aquiescence of the prolonged lockdown. Of course, some are impatient to get back to work and are worried by the economic impact, or sceptical about the scientific rationale for the restrictions. But what is striking is how phlegmatic the quiet majority have proved to be — so far, at least.
Powerful evidence of the therapeutic potential of gardening can be found in research by the British Trust for Conservation Volunteers on its impact among prisoners. They found that “nature-oriented programmes for offenders increased the chance of ex-offenders holding down a job, and reduced re-offending on release.” Programmes “showed a 39 per cent success rate in helping offenders through the processes of gaining employment.”
Our particular ambition in this country for home ownership is surely linked to this pastime. For most of us, this dream includes our own private little stretch of grass and a flower bed or two. We might appreciate visiting grander gardens — the National Trust’s membership is an astonishing 5.5 million. But our own aspirations tend to be modest.
There can be some exasperation from non-gardeners as a result of all this. A feeling that preoccupation with this hobby might allow complacency to set in as other matters were disregarded. Arthur Balfour, our former Prime Minister, famously declared: “Nothing matters very much and most things don’t matter at all.” That’s the sort of sentiment to win the gardening vote.
I should finish with a confession that I am very much the under-gardener in our household. Weeding and watering tend to be the main tasks to which I can be safely entrusted. For some of us the garden is more a focus of relaxation than activity.
Yet during this period where the focus has been on the home, I have been doing rather more. So have the children. I suspect the same is true in millions of other homes. A great tradition is being renewed. The spade is being passed to the next generation. Even when the crisis is over there is likely to be increased working from home. Less time in traffic jams and crowded train carriages. More time looking at flowers bloom and listening to birds sing. Not a bad legacy if it comes to pass.
