I realise that writing a note on Facebook does not guarantee that anyone will read it. But if you do, I hope my jargon is both coherent and worthwhile enough to provoke thought and response. You might assume that, being a music student who is often quite judgmental about what he does and does not like is about to list through this year's bands at Reading Festival and explain what their failings (or relative strengths) were. However, you would be wrong. I could spend several pages pointing out how many indie bands still think they can get away with the same formula and format without a particularly good singer or vocalist fronting them. I realise it is unpopular perhaps to admit this, but Hayley Williams from Paramore seems to be an exception.
But enough about her. The real problem was leaving Reading Festival, and I'm not on about mud, overflowing toilets and packed public transport. In fact the latter ran quite smoothly. What was left at Reading Festival was what appeared to be the site of a disaster; tents, chairs, gazebos, plastic bags, beer cans strewn over several fields. It takes some time for it to all be cleared, having seen the site from a train a few weeks after last year's festival. So, my beef (or issue) isn't with the clean up because it does eventually get cleaned up. I find it disappointing that festival-goers are this disrespectful of their surroundings to turn up and ruin a green area in four days but I am reassured by the fact it doesn't stay that way. (It gets cleared up for the process to repeat next year.)
I genuinely don't wish to sound cynical, critical or a hater of fun. I love festivals. And most festival-goers. They are great events and any situation where people get together and celebrate music I am in favour of. However, there seemed something unsettling to me. People pay large sums of money for tickets, tents and camping gear, alcohol and food, with money which we value highly in this "age of austerity". However, it seems that the majority of festival goers have enough disposable income not just to attend the festival but casually submit to a low-priced "consumer culture". If we can pick up a tent for £20, why bother to take it home with us? If our gazebo cost a tenner, why bother putting it down? It isn't laziness per se that I take issue with but that the attitude towards our possessions is one of careless disinterest or part of an addiction to consuming. It made me wonder if we no longer invest in quality goods to last long periods, goods that we take pride in. I am not, politically speaking, a person who would promote seeking identity in goods and inanimate objects but here I could be persuaded otherwise. What makes us turn away from sustainable, long-term roles for the goods we need, goods that we use to assert our individuality, save up for, care for and take pride in and instead choose neutral, bland "one size fits all" goods that we cast aside without another thought?
My ramble isn't intended to be charged in a directly political way, although you can obviously draw an opinion from it. However, when I arrived at Reading I was excited. When I was there I enjoyed, listened and worked. When I left, I was troubled. Not because, like in Toy Story, I believe that these things have personalities that will be emotionally damaged by abandonment, but because as we left, many people elsewhere will require shelter, sanitation and food. I want to refrain from spreading guilt, that isn't my intention. I know I am myself wasteful even when I try hard to preserve my tent and re-cycle as much as possible. I don't even think it is appropriate to take the "aren't you lucky to have...?" approach, or at least not directly. I mean, I would love people to take their tents etc to charities and charity shops and hope many will. However, what I could see was a visual realisation of an attitude which I find deeply unsettling. Until as a group of people we have an awareness of the world outside our own events and activities, which I realise is often hard to do, I wonder how we can go about transforming the world around us.
As disgusting as toilets at festivals are, I have to admit I was aware of what a privilege they are. As many people in Pakistan are facing the threat of water-borne disease and urgently need the kind of sanitation we had at the festival, I wondered how people could so readily abuse this provision. The basic value tents, although they are not fancy, could provide the kind of temporary shelter many might value more highly than we could ever conceive of. But many feel able to let these shelters go without a second thought. I don't wish to concern others and I hope that doesn't seem to be what I have done. But I do see a problem. Why do we not give that second thought? When did these most basic things, shelter and sanitation become not second nature, not something we take for granted, but something we consume. It's not that we think of ourselves first but that we think of ourselves first, second, third, fourth and so on. People will come back next year and go through more tents and damage and abuse more toilets so that new ones are sought.
I don't claim to have a solution or answer to this loop, or that the details I have pointed out are thoroughly accurate. I just wonder whether we will eventually have a shift in attitude where we think of our own need first, but then preserve the provision made for our needs so that we can turn our attention to others. Should we be consuming in a "single-use" disposable manner the basic requirements for a healthy life. I can't help thinking they are more valuable than any camera or mobile phone and should therefore be treated with the higher regard. Surely the non-essential items in our life need to return to the bottom of the hierarchy and those that allow us to live the healthy life of a person in the developed world should be cared for and prized at the top. When we remember their value, perhaps people will then remember and see why it is essential to share them with others.
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