When it comes to affairs of the planet, it is all but impossible to navigate a blameless path through life and work. As many a commentator has already pointed out, this is especially true of our collective relationship with global capital. Everyone has, to some degree, blood or oil on their hands but, for many, this is simply the way of the world. Every now and then, however, matters come to a head when an irresistible force meets an immovable object head-on. A few weeks ago, the book publishing industry and the wider literary community in the UK found themselves at this particular junction.
I’m talking specifically about a confrontation prompted firstly by an open letter signed by a number of prominent environmentalists, and furthered by Fossil Free Books (FFB) with a viral petition. The latter is a coalition of disaffected scribes, and the object of their disaffection was the Scottish investment firm Baillie-Gifford, a major sponsor of book festivals around the country.
The aims of the petitioners, we’re told, was primarily to urge Baillie-Gifford to disinvest in big companies with links to fossil fuels and the arming of Israel. Whether the removing these specific stains would leave Baillie-Clifford with a spotlessly ethical portfolio is more hypothetical than real; but sometimes symbolism counts for more than concrete outcomes. In any event, the petition attracted more than 700 signatories, but the action initially generated more headlines than it did actual public opprobrium.
Still, Baillie-Gifford were stung, but not into any kind of immediate reaction. They issued a rather stone-faced rebuttal, which came with no subsequent qualification or elaboration. Instead, they watched and waited as FFB attempted to seize the non-existent high moral ground. A couple of book festivals fell on their quills in the name of solidarity, but they seemed to be more worried about boycotts, protests, and disruption than their green credentials. Then came the pre-emptive strike by ‘big money’.
Baillie Gifford promptly withdrew all its remaining sponsorship deals with some of the UK’s most high profile book festivals. The creative landscape has since been re-drawn as an ideological battleground with news platforms churning the story for all they are worth. Better still, a spat has developed within the ‘literary community’ between established authors (who are given a platform at book festivals) and the artisan writers, editors, and bloggers who are fundamental the ecosystem, yet largely inhabit rented spaces at smaller book events.
If life in the literary margins is frustrating then it is doubly vexing to see the wealthy capitalising on the momentum of the green movement. It is subject matter that strikes a nerve and feeds the creative urge. The planet is in a spot of bother, nature is in a corner, and the human species remains addicted to murderous inclinations. Who will speak out? Answer: those who have nothing left to lose. Big name authors may “sympathise” and “understand”, but no-one on the best-seller lists (other than Thunberg) is going to glue themselves to the gates of parliament anytime soon. Their publisher might drop them from a great height.
Running concurrently, however, is a wave of environmental activism that is also marked by impatience. It’s also a gut reaction against the appropriation of green thinking by the machinery of global capital. Baillie Gifford’s largesse may be admirable to those who don’t know what a lot of money really looks like, but those who do are always calculating the cost/benefit ratio. They know that even small percentages of vast wealth produces seductively large numbers that can buy virtue and kudos.
Certainly, it is money that isn’t going to be missed by wealth managers because (as Baillie Gifford themselves are keen to pint out) it isn’t even their money. It can also be conveniently redistributed to some other deserving cause if it turns out that it leaves a nasty stain on anyone’s reputation. But is it really an offer that cash-strapped arts organisations can’t refuse?
In the cold light of day, the tough truth is that this is what greenwashing and the corporate payoff really looks like. It has been a tactic of global capital for years, and it’s just as annoying now as it was when the first multinationals adopted ‘Green’ and ‘Eco’ into their sloganeering. We are talking here about the theft not just of ideas and words, but the appropriation of a philosophy that addresses the great crises of our age.
The environmental messaging of the last fifty years or so was instigated by activists. Nowadays, a heavily diluted form of the same messaging appears ad nauseam in corporate blurb around the globe. It’s nothing more or less than plagiarism. So, perhaps, it’s no wonder that the authors and originators of this work are a bit cross with institutions like Ballie Gifford.
As for book festivals, I find it difficult to really care very much. I couldn’t get arrested at any of them, much less invited along to talk about my work. This is not because my work isn’t any good. I know that my ten-plus books have literary value because I know my source material, I research my facts thoroughly, I have an excellent command of language, and I apply considerable diligence to the book production process.
The reasons why writers like me are summarily ignored by the book industry at large is not simply because it’s a competitive field. It’s because the industry in the UK is as disinterested in genuine creativity as it’s ever been. It’s because this industry modally uses agent and publisher contracts to validate a piece of work. It’s because this industry values celebrity over substance. Permit yourself a cursory glance at the book shelves and you’ll see they are heaving with insubstantial but saleable ‘book-type-product’.
Moreover, the book industry serves a business model that despises self-publishing by the individual. Commissioning editors routinely claim that no one can produce a ‘proper book’ without their questionable help, but I am one of many who has consistently proved them wrong. I know they are wrong because I my readers have told me that my books are ‘proper books’. And they are the people who really matter in the literary world.
I am one of a legion of independent writer/publishers who have used Amazon’s fulfilment service to print and distribute my books. I have had to stand by and watch as this method has been disparaged by writers who can’t write, editors who can’t edit, independent booksellers who can’t sell, and commentators who are too lazy to research the self-publishing landscape properly. For many creative people, it’s the only means of getting the book out, much less placed in the hands of readers. Incidentally, I have never encountered a single buyer who was troubled that by my use of Amazon, but I have read many a self-righteous tweet disparaging anyone who sells their wares on that platform.
Distancing oneself from Amazon doesn’t necessarily smooth the way anyway. My most recent non-fiction book was printed and distributed independently in the UK and Europe. It was not viable to distribute the book in the USA on any platform other than Amazon. I have not chosen this path any more than a subsistence farmer on Madagascar “chooses” to use ‘RoundUp’ to protect his crops. In this instance, however, I made a case for myself by writing and publishing the book at my own expense and produced something that an independent distributor recognised as legitimate.
It is a good book. It is timely and it addresses pressing environmental issues of our time by looking at the uncertain future of one hapless, endangered species. I’ve sold a few copies, but not nearly as many as those ghost-written, puddle-deep, celebrity tomes that are riddled with typos, errors, and insensible sentences.
As I write this, bringing my remarks to a close, I’d like to refer to an article in today’s Guardian (link below). It’s about the top five banks that are involved in funding the destruction of primary forest in the Amazon region. In it, Jonathan Watts (reporting on a report), names the “third biggest financier over the past two decades” as Itaú Unibanco of Brazil which, it’s alleged,” does not have any exclusions or screens that apply to oil and gas operations in the region”. Among the activities that have been financed by Itaú Unibanco are projects operated Petrobras, a company that features in Baillie Gifford’s portfolio as “a very small proportion of our total investments”, but is central to the FFB protest . Oil and water don’t mix, but that has never bothered Petrobras whose storied disregard for the environment (and the people in it) is infamous.
It’s a timely reminder that there’s no such thing as an insignificant contribution to environmental destruction, and no such thing as guilt-free global capitalism. The actions of Fossil Free Books may be naïve, disruptive, and (to some) foolhardy), but they are, at least, principled. Perhaps, they feel they are doing what they can, even if it means taking a hit for it. Whatever their individual or collective motives, they will have some kind of answer to give future generations when they ask, “what did you do to save the planet?”
https://theferret.scot/baillie-gifford-invested-670m-drill-oil-near-amazon/
https://www.nhbs.com/the-fragmented-world-of-the-mongoose-lemur-book
1320Elements 