They tell me that sweetie rationing was still in force when I was a toddler. It had been part of the wartime strategy to use less and beat shipping blockades aimed at preventing importation of 20 million tons of food that had hitherto kept the UK going. Sugar was rationed until 1953.
In the course of the Second World War, coal and petrol were also rationed, and in a war situation, people accepted restrictions because they were imposed for the common good. Better to put on another sweater than run out of coal. Better to restrict movement than bring the country to its knees because the armed forces didn’t have enough vehicle fuel. In the 1940s, the vehicle fuel restrictions became so tough that only the emergency services, bus companies and farmers were able to get supplies – and the petrol was dyed so that anyone who wasn’t an authorised user could be prosecuted.
The Suez crisis in the 1950s saw petrol rationing re-introduced for a few months when it looked as if the UK wouldn’t get supplies through the Suez Canal.
In the early 1970s, I lived in Perthshire. I was working as a journalist in Glasgow and the 28 miles journey seemed worth the effort – the rewards of evenings and weekends in a rural setting far outweighed paying £1 for three gallons of petrol (no good at maths, but Google tells me that’s 13.6 litres). There were great restaurants on the doorstep – Kippen and Thornhill became destination musts for Glasgow and Stirling folk looking for good food experiences.
Then in 1973, there was another oil crisis. We were given petrol coupons against the possibility of rationing. The restrictions didn’t happen – but petrol prices rocketed to £1 a gallon. The knock on effect was that few could afford to play at The Good Life (the TV comedy about a hand-knitted couple growing their own) and we all sold up. The posh restaurants closed. The next year we had Ted Heath’s three-day week when electricity was limited and we walked to work on those days we were allowed to operate, often working in the gloom of camping lights.
Why am I writing this? Who cares almost four decades later?
Because rationing may well be our only answer to beat climate chaos. Drastic situations call for drastic remedies and we are in a drastic situation. We have a decade to sort it.
Our reckless use of fossil fuels – oil, petrol, coal, gas – not only means we’re running out of these commodities, but we’re poisoning the very atmosphere that keeps us alive.
Four years ago, Pope Francis gave us some guidelines in his Laudato Si document. We were asked to act as individuals and as a voice to make governments act. I hope our Scottish Bishops’ Conference will add its collective voice as it did against nuclear weapons 40 years ago. We’re not facing wartime blockades or a nuclear holocaust. We are fighting self-destruction - and it’s time to print the ration books.