Gecko Tales

I’ve thought often about working in Australia, as an environmental manager, whatever that is, or more preferably as a sustainable development professional. Which is even more vague than environmental manager. I’ve spoken to organisations, checked the news and developments, contributed to Getup campaigns, signed Wilderness Society petitions and, more importantly, spoken to broad range of Australians across two-thirds of Australia during a thirty-month bicycle trip.
I’ve applied for jobs which say they want someone with the educations, skills, knowledge and competencies I have and have the right to live and work in Australia. Aside of a couple of government jobs I’ve not heard back from them. Am I that unemployable, or do I not understand how to apply for jobs in Australia? Or is it something else.
I set about analysing The Why. What it is about the Australian context and me that don’t seem to be aligned.
After thirty-months cycling around I believe I understand.
There is ‘environmental management’ as a ‘technical service’. And there is ‘sustainable development’ as a guiding principle.
Australia is still is in the environmental management stage. Management of (note: not avoidance of) emissions to air, land, water, biodiversity, soil and water resource management, and so. The belief that technological solutions with solve environmental ‘problems’. And that if we take lots of samples, and analyse, and collect data and perform field studies we’ll understand the impacts and changes and if thresholds are exceeded we’ll (try to) implement operational controls to bring us back within threshold values.
Australia’s been in this stage since the 80s. Arguably Australia was (and may still be) a global leader in this field. Few do mining and environment, agriculture and biodiversity, transport and mobility quite on the scale as Australia.
This is the difference between ‘environmental management’ and ‘sustainable development’. In sustainable development the social and economic aspects also need to be included and assessed. Yes, Australia does a lot of social impact assessments, but it’s more than that.
I toured Mount Tom Price in the Pilbra and was told endless anecdotes of Lang Hancock who discovered it, in tones equally reverential and awe. A true character, I was reassured.
Lang Hancock died three years after I left Australia and, at that time, he and I were, ostensibly, in the same business: mining. That’s where all the similarities end. I ended up in mining because back in 1982 there was no jobs, no future for a biologist and environmentalism didn’t even exist. I love the science of geology, but I have grave reservations and concerns about the commercial aspects of it.
Tom Price mine is vast, truly. Tom Price town is lovely, green and quaint, with a good community feel about it, open to ‘the public’. Yes, back in the day you could build an entire town in Australia and ban anyone from entering it, leaving the excluded to wonder just what goes on there
“When the mine ends, what happens to the town?” I asked after listening to an hour of humungous machines, countless millions of tons and Lang Hancock. “What’s the plan for closure?”. The busdriver-tourguide-mineworker responded dryly “I’m not going to talk about that” and that was that.
The Indigenous person’s demeanour in the mine-information centre in town noticeably changes when I ask them the same question. Their voice lowers somewhat as they conspiratorially explain that there isn’t one.
The environmental impacts of the mine are beyond calculation. Closing it physically and chemically safely will be a huge task. What’ll they do?, I think. Put fences around the pits. Then what? Fences last but a few years and without constant supervision they’ll be torn apart so people can access the pits for whatever reason people would want to. The pits are going to be there for- ever . Fencing it off is ludicrous if you think in terms of generations. It’ll cost too much, the company will say, when someone suggests ‘physically and chemically safely’ will, by necessity, need to include access by random members of the public.
This is where ‘environmental management’ diverges from ‘sustainable development’. Where I diverge from primary orthodoxy governing environmental management in Australia.
It makes perfect sense to me to look into the social and the socio-economic aspects of shutting a vast mining operation replete with town occupied by long term, even generational residents. It makes perfect sense to me to look at the relationship with the First Nations on who’s land the mine was developed. First Nations Lang Hancock took a dim view of, suggesting they be corralled into a single location and surreptitiously sterilised, thereby solving the ‘Aboriginal problem’. That was in 1984, the year I entered the professional work force as a geologist. Check out https://aso.gov.au/titles/documentaries/couldnt-be-fairer/clip2/
As I ride my bicycle around Tom Price there is nothing to suggest the town isn’t going to last forever. The information centre can’t provide me any insights into how either the company nor the government is considering Life After The Mine. Out of sight out of mind.
I’ve worked on two of Europe’s largest mining projects, one which went into operations. I was responsible for the environmental, social, community and Indigenous People’s aspects of the project including getting the environmental and safety permits to begin operations. As part of this I had to submit a preliminary closure plan, with a requirement that it gets updated every three years. It is a public document, available to whoever asks for it.
In 2006 I found myself in Perth, Western Australia attending the First (ever) International Seminar on Mine Closure ( https://papers.acg.uwa.edu.au/c/mc2006 ) where hundreds of mining people were busily and happily back-slapping their way through presentation after presentation about how wonderful the sector’s efforts were. I realised I was the only dedicated environmentalist in the conference. The rest were all company people. No Indigenous representatives, no environmental or ecological organisations either. Just miners. I put up my hand and asked why there were neither Indigenous, community or environmental organisations represented, and expressed the opinion that to host the first ever international mine-closure conference in 2006 hardly seemed either innovative or progressive.
Interesting was that the participants wanted to hear my points of view whilst the organisers fished to find someone else to take the microphone. I was even interviewed by a journalist working for ABC radio.
Apparently they tried to get non-mining organisations to participate, But they squirmed when I pointed out the shear intransigence of the sector made it difficult for them to attend and to participate.
The application of sustainability to an inherently unsustainable industry – the exploitation of a non-renewable resource, or the permanent reduction in the inherent economic value of a specific location – means an assessment needs to be made whether it’s absolutely necessary for that mine to go ahead based on objective social need, rather than it be determined based on commercial competition related to prevailing economic trends.
If social, community and Indigenous People’s needs were placed at the centre of development policy, rather than market economics then the industry would be revolutionised. Free Prior Informed Consent is the first global attempt at doing this. Fiercely resisted but nonetheless gaining traction, FPIC requires the resources’ development sector to become more sustainable by requiring them to achieve agreement with impacted communities. No agreement, no project. Currently, and despite industry claims of ‘social licence’, it is possible to receive permits to mine despite intense local opposition. FPIC changes this.
Australia’s approach is still focussed on environmental management as a technical service. Managing impacts to the local environment, controlling emissions to land, air and water, ensuring pollution and contamination remain within certain limits. This will change as society increasingly recognises the need for large-scale infrastructure projects to demonstrate benefits to local communities rather than simply providing the resources that our industrialised economy needs. Our needs won’t diminish but our acceptance of the impacts projects have is changing.
I still think about working in Australia and will try again in 2019 to see if I can find roles for the skills, knowledge and competencies I have. I remain optimistic.

Velo-Cities – in search of why a city should convert its transport policy to favour cyclists and pedestrians.
What’s a city anyway?
In Heathcote William’s eloquent poem-book Autogeddon a city is viewed by an extraterrestrial. They conclude that the primary inhabitants are cars inexorably connected to large buildings. Carbon-based life-forms move the vehicles along sophisticated transport routes. To buildings in other parts of the city, to other cities.
A city, according to Wikipedia is “a large human settlement” facilitating the interaction between “people, government organizations and businesses”, possessing “extensive systems for housing, transportation, sanitation, utilities, land use, and communication” [i]. The Guardian draws on a 1907 “rule of thumb” that a city is “home to at least 300,000 residents, a distinct identity … and a good record of local government” [ii]. Across the Atlantic a city “is a legally defined government entity. It has powers delegated by the state and county and the local laws, regulations, and policies are created and approved by the voters of the city and their representatives. A city can provide local government services to its citizens.” [iii] Which is quite similar to Wikipedia’s definition.
Cities house and facilitate the smooth interactions socially, economically and politically of large numbers of people
Heathcote William’s aliens are mistaken. Cars do not figure in the definition of city. At least not directly.
As I walk a thin strip allocated to pedestrians sandwiched between buildings and a large strip of asphalt devoted to People In Cars (PICS), it’s not hard to conclude the right of the vehicle exceeds the right of the person and that Heathcote’s aliens have a point.
When I get on a bicycle and ride in a city my conviction that the right of PICS and vehicles exceeds mine, even though I am now a legitimate ‘vehicle’ using infrastructure I’m obliged to, only increases. Pedestrians are separated from vehicles so the antipathy is reduced. And every PIC ultimately becomes a pedestrian.
Cyclist are a hybrid: part pedestrian, part vehicle. Not every pedestrian and not every PIC rides a bike as a form of transport .
Numerous conflict points arise in a near continuum as I ride through the city. I’m in the way when PICS want to turn left or right or even go straight ahead. I dodge car doors opening, jaywalking pedestrians and PICS coming out of subterranean portals who just don’t see me. At traffic lights I’m obliged to be a ‘vehicle’ but am not accorded the space offered larger four-wheeled vehicles or faster two-wheeled motorised bikes. If I act as a pedestrian, pedestrians scowl and growl as they attempt to cross the same intersection or road when the Green Man allows them. Rarely are there any places to park anywhere near where I want to be. Secured to a lamp-pole or other immovable object on the sidewalk pedestrians grumble about the hindrance it causes. If I try to leave it in a bay for ‘vehicles’ the PICS make sure I know it’s not allocated to my kind of vehicle. Many businesses have ‘Do Not Park Bikes Against The Wall/Window’ signs.
I am too fast to be a pedestrian. And I’m too slow to be a legitimate and equally treated user of vehicle transport infrastructure: roads and streets. And parking areas.
Why do people not ride in cities? It’s dangerous. It takes effort. Effort is a personal issue. Making it as easy as possible for people to ride facilitates riding. That means the infrastructure has to be in place, it is safe to ride, the various road users are educated about cycling, there are convenient places to park, and, ideally, a shower available in the office.
Who am I: vehicle or pedestrian?
Cycling occupies a unique place among transport mythology. Part pedestrian, part vehicle. In many cities cyclists are encouraged if not obliged to share transport infrastructure with pedestrians. In others they have to share the roads with motorised transport. They also have to obey the same laws as motorised transport. There is nothing remotely the ‘same’ between a car and a bike.
Cycling with pedestrians is a nightmare. Cycling with cars is a nightmare. The pedestrian loses, the car loses, the cyclist loses. It’s a lose-lose-lose situation.
Sharing a main arterial road with two or three lanes of tightly packed cars travelling some three-times faster than I is intimidating. Although we’re obliged to obey the same traffic laws, out of courtesy we’re encouraged to keep close to the side of the road. Most times a vehicle will give a cyclist a wide berth when they pass. But not always. Sometimes because there’s a car in the next lane. Sometimes because the driver simply doesn’t care, or out of resentment or, perhaps worse, ignorance of the risk several thousands of kilograms of metal object represents to one-hundred kilograms of human-on-a-bike. It is inordinately frightening to have a car pass with but ten centimetres to spare.
Vulnerability
The OECD’s 1998 report on Safety of Vulnerable Road Users [iv] points out that “high speed sport cyclists increase risks for the other vulnerable road users. Especially (on) combined routes for both pedestrians and cyclists.” A ROSPA fact sheet reports “Per billion vehicle miles, 1,011 pedal cyclists are killed or seriously injured, in comparison to 26 car drivers” in the UK [v]. That’s a brutal 42-times difference. For adults 84% of accidents involve a collision with a vehicle. The consequence of thousands of kilograms of 4-wheel disk-brake safety-belt SIPS air-bag steel-casing safety features around a person versus several hundred grams of bicycle helmet. Most deaths are due to head injuries.
Whilst “failure to look properly” either on behalf of the cyclist or driver is the largest contributing factor, interesting to note is the inclusion of “‘cyclist entering the road from the pavement’ (including when a cyclist crosses the road at a pedestrian crossing)” as the “second most common contributory factor” accounting for about 20% of serious collisions. And which most likely include a combination of both factors.
Cycling on a dual-use (cycling-pedestrian) path puts the pedestrian at risk from the faster moving cyclist. Even a very slow cyclist moves at double walking pace of 4 to 5 kph. A sports cyclist will be travelling 25 – 30 kph if not more. Six times walking speed.
Dual-use paths are not transport corridors.
They’re recreational. Great to walk along, to cycle with the kids, enjoying a winding languid tour. The sportster training and the commuter commuting want efficient cycling paths, a reliable transport corridor along which they can ride. Fast moving sportsters and commuters do not belong on recreational dual-use cycling paths. Dual-use paths often have confusing and dangerous road and intersection crossing. They do not facilitate fast efficient and above all safe movement of cyclists.
Why try to ride a bike in a city? What’s the point, the benefit?
Cities are ostensibly built on my behalf, as a resident or user of the services offered by it. Or both.
It’s not unreasonable to think then there should be a lot of pedestrians and cyclists in a city.
PICS don’t actually do anything for a city, except cause pollution and pose risk. A PIC has to exit their vehicle become a pedestrian, and then they effectively contribute
Old World cities and the old parts of New World cities had to be retrofitted to accommodate the car. Whilst new New World cities, like those in Australia and America, are designed around them.
Geometric grids, large arterial roads dividing into smaller and smaller internal roads bisecting a city.
[BLOG CONTINUES BELOW REFERENCES]
[iv] safety.fhwa.dot.gov/ped_bike/docs/oecd_safety.pdf
