Talking Point: Charlie Flindt

A few nights ago, just before dawn, I was woken by voices. I”m used to the Manor Farm Ghost occasionally scolding me for being in his room, but this was different. There were two voices, one on my left, one coming from my right. I slowly turned my head towards one voice. There, sitting on my shoulder, munching away on a huge chip, was a tiny angel. I slowly turned the other way and, on the other shoulder, there was a tiny devil.

“But why should he farm?” the devil was saying. “What”s the point? Under this new system, he”s going to get a big cheque every year whether he farms or not. There”s no need to go out there and get wet and dirty.”

“Of course he”s got to farm,” exclaimed the angel. “This is a farmhouse. To live in it, you have to farm. He has a moral obligation to produce a crop off the land. He owes it to his conscience to be farming.”

Forked tail

 “Conscience my forked tail,” said the devil. “This boy is a conscience-free zone. Farming nowadays is nothing to do with being in a field. He was in the Jolly Flowerpots earlier tonight with that nice Mr Young. They spent 90 minutes discussing form filling, and then 10 minutes comparing notes on how the spring sowing was going.”

“Form filling is an unavoidable aspect of modern life,” pointed out the angel. “And when it comes to farming, the public demands it. It wants assurance, food safety and total traceability from field to fork.”

 “It wants a damn good kick up the backside if it believes traceability comes from form-filling,” laughed the devil. “The public wants cheap food. They get it thanks to the power of the supermarkets. The government wants jobs created, and thanks to the many and varied tasks of the farming year – each of which can be inspected and regulated – it creates jobs. Voters with jobs are happier than voters without jobs. New Labour has never forgotten 1979.”

“But if Charlie doesn”t farm, what will he do?” asked the angel. “He”d go mad not driving a tractor any more. I bet he”d soon be itching to get out there and keep on perfecting his ploughing.”

 “He”d be lucky to perfect his ploughing this side of the next millennium,” remarked the devil – somewhat unkindly. “And as for having something to do, have you seen that garden? When she moved out of Manor Farm, Granny Flindt left an immaculately maintained masterpiece of borders, shrubs and sculptured grass. Eight years on, you could lose a flock of sheep in that mess. It”s a shamble of brambles, lost lawns and overgrown evergreens.”

 “And what would Granny and Grandpa Flindt think of the non-farming concept?” asked the angel. “Just imagine the tut-tutting and general disapproval from a whole generation of farmers for whom idle farmland in a sin.”

 “With all due to respect to that generation, things are different today,” said the devil. “And this generation of farmers should be grateful to Charlie for withdrawing 1600t of produce from the market. A shortage of farm produce, however caused, is the only thing that will save the farming industry. His non-production isn”t huge, but as one farming customer says: Every little helps.”

 “I still don”t think he”ll find enough to do,” continued the angel. “How will he fill his time?”

Summer holidays.

 “Apart from gardening? Well, there”s a complete cricket season to be played, summer holidays to be taken, Sundays not having to endure Countryfile to try to catch the weather forecast, books to write about the National Trust. The list is endless. Perhaps some part-time work looking after paddocks for Hampshire”s latest settlers. The NFU might have a job for a farmer who likes to shout his mouth off a lot. Then there are numerous rugby injuries that need sorting out, teeth to be fixed, noses to be straightened…”

At this they looked up at the offending nose, realised that they were being watched and both vanished in a silent puff of smoke. I must cut back on the Amber Gambler bitter, I thought as I dozed off.

Mind you, it”s some of the best debate on the subject I”ve heard. I wonder if, after enough pints, they would reach a conclusion? There”s only one way to find out.