382 Book Reviews

some region adapt their behaviour to the present spatial opportunities. Therefore, differences between the wished- for and existing hierarchy may not be very sensational. A solution might be to compare the functional hierarchy of service centres as wished-for or preferred by residents living in a less-deprived rural area with the existing one in a more deprived and peripheral region.

The author also gives some policy recommendations. He pleads in favour of a spatial policy that pays attention to the functional dependency of settlements and their residents in rural areas. The population threshold is, seen from a theoretical standpoint, higher in small settlements which are functionally bound together than in each particular small settlement. Although it is worthwhile to consider Cloke's ideas in the context of the Netherlands, we are apprehensive of a detailed and partial elaboration of these ideas into policy proposals; the future social, economic and demographic situation of rural areas is too critical. Personally, we support a kind of planning for decline in which Moseley's policy options have system- atically been placed. The functional dependency of small settlements may, among other things, influence the im- portance of some of these options in a particular region. Because of the original and rather risky ideas we do appreciate this study.

HENK DE HAARD Provinciale Planologische Dienst

Province of Overijssel Zwolle

Netherlands

Crisis and Conservation: Conflict in the British Country- side, Charlie Pye-Smith and Chris Rose, 213 pp., Penguin, London, 1984, £3.95

This book is the latest in a line of very respectable protests about the deplorable state of the British countryside. Its contribution to the argument is also its problem, for it moves the discussion on from mere disaffection to talk of action.

Ten years ago the countryside was as far above criticism as Royalty. Its bland popular literature fell into two categ- ories: natural history, which could sometimes be dignified as ecology; and celebration, sometimes shelved as local history or geography. Its tedious academic literature confined itself to arcane community ecology or wan books on planning. The political truce was one of the country- side's charms: safe from the conflict of the cities; the embodiment of Butskelist consensus; an open field for value-free social science. The survival of consensus was as remarkable as its sudden collapse.

The mould-breaker was Marian Shoard's searing Theft of the Countryside, about which the carpet-of-bluebells groupies came to speak of in the same wheezy breath as The Communist Manifesto. Even now, it is felt to be too controversial to be recommended to at least one M.Sc. course about the countryside; and neither the teachers of such courses nor the groupies could any longer turn to the

academics for assurance. Howard Newby's very respec- tably academic analyses of class structures and hegemony in the real-life countryside of the eighties turns out to be quite as radical as Marion Shoard. A new attraction was added to the countryside's many others: it now smelt of a good fight; it provided easy pretexts for attacking the establishment over secrecy or muddle-headedness; it might even see the triumph of the rambler in the Mountain Goat minibus over the landlord in his Range Rover.

Enter Charlie Pye-Smith and Chris Rose. They have a splendidly rousing introduction which plots the ~privatiz- ation of the heritage' from feudal times to the present, and the belated rear-guard action that began in the nineteenth century. They then go for the jugular, and attack the "agents of destruction': farmers, foresters and the (often overlooked) water engineers. The next two chapters expose some of the restraining forces: planning, in which they still place hope, and the nature conservation move- ment about which they are much more gloomy. They then indulge in a long and encyclopaedic chapter on 'habitat destruction', and finish with a rather broad-brush 'recipe for the future', which is really little more than a pot pourri of pious hopes about sharing the commons, land reform and government accountability on the one hand, and on the other, more specific political action, including, when all else fails, 'direct action'.

The trouble with this kind of call to arms is that it is contained within the covers of a book and not on the accessible pages of a journal. Even journals like Ecos are left high and dry by the tide of this kind of debate. Perhaps the hoary literature of celebration and academic analysis were chosen by publishers just because they don't date. Polemic, however good, rapidly loses its savour. The commander of the Light Brigade didn't have to wait for printers to produce the cry to advance. The wave these authors are seeking to crest moved on before the type was set.

British nature conservation has swept by with amazing speed in the last two years. Water engineering was exposed first as an engineer's work-ticket. Now agriculture and land drainage have been uncovered as shallow disguises for the cultivation of subsidies. Forestry cannot be far behind. The countryside scene resounds to talk of claw-back instead of expansion. Land values are falling. The Government's own countryside bodies have built up their budgets against the national trend. The voluntary bodies have so much labour some don't know what to do with it. Parliamentary committees are closing in on the arrogance of MAFF. The war is far from won, but the battlefield has changed.

What can one now write about the countryside that will stand the printer's delays? Not facts and figures certainly; these are old before they reach the statisticians. Not detailed prescriptions for political action, for the ground is constantly changing. If publishers cannot bring out books in under a year they had better go back to those analysts and celebrants of the consensus years.

ANDREW WARREN Ecology and Conservation Unit

University College London U.K.