drip’ process; a gradual one, rather than there being a discrete moment that makes one shift their allegiances. It’s an accumulation of experiences, so that what is important is to make sure that opportunities are open for people to undertake small experiments that disclose the complexity of the issues at play in the background of everyday attachments (e.g. to supermarket shopping), and invite a questioning of what people do in their own lives. In the case of the Food Hub, it was already in the development stages of the project that early promise transpired for this sort of ripple process. A committee of local producers and local consumers was set up to enable early trials and the gathering of feedback to design a workable system. In this scoping process, connections took place between producers and consumers who became suddenly aware, for example, of the reasons why meat from grass-fed cows is different from that of battery-raised cows, and why producing a more nutritious and sustainable product eventually translates in a slightly higher end price. In other words, already through the process of designing the system, experiential cracks have been insinuated in the otherwise predominantly price-based experience of some supermarket consumers, signalling the inception of an attachment to different products and, over time, perhaps an openness to other animating trajectories woven through Transition.
In conclusion, in this chapter I have tried to begin from where Transition is often said to have begun, namely the derivation from permaculture as a ‘gardening’ approach to relating in the world, and gardens (and other food-growing projects) as a practical pursuit. My concern, however, aimed to unearth a fork in the road in the moving of permaculture that leads, through differentiation, into Transition. In the attempt to make the permaculture way of seeing accessible beyond the customary circles of dedicated permaculturists, Transition sets off as a move beyond the material and discursive set-up that is normally necessary to introduce permaculture, and – at the same time – it also discloses a tension towards more than permanent agriculture, in favour of a more encompassing ‘permanent culture’. Transition, by way of showing attunement to the challenges of ‘reaching out’ to untouched audiences, is almost an application of permacultural principles to the to disentanglement from the strictures and access barriers of permaculture proper, and effects a turn towards inclusivity. Therefore, despite the relatedness to permaculture in its observational, minimally interventionist approach, an important difference is also insinuated: namely in the way that Transition is presented and in the realms of experience it tries to engage beyond the focus on growing food. As a consequence of this, one need not be familiar with permaculture to join the moving of Transition; this has been my experience in meeting Transition activists in Totnes, only a handful of whom had deepened their interest in permaculture by taking design courses, or the like.43 Transition does not, therefore, act – as I myself had originally thought – as purely an inroad for laypersons into permaculture. It appears, instead, as a transformation of permaculture, where the formal apparatus of the latter is – to quote Rob Hopkins – ‘implicit’ and not explicit. Such features as these are equally present in Transition: the awareness and attention to context and to social/biological ecologies, the concern for making inroads as targeted and minimally disruptive as possible into the drift of people’s everyday activities, and the gradual, slow approach to change. Yet, these are all integral to the lived experience of Transition, without necessarily having to be formalised through a relatively more regimented procedure (as is, on the other hand, the process of undertaking a permacultural design).44
Moreover, the open-ended orientation of Transition, such that the engagement in it is always open to yet further deepening and intensification, already shines through a distinctive approach to undertaking projects relating to food. So, for instance, it is the case that the food growing or the preparation and consumption of food helps pre-assemble a space for social interaction, so that people may come together without having to negotiate discursively the entirety of the terms of their mutual engagement in ways that are reminiscent, for instance, of Occupy-style consensus-based assemblies (which have their merits for the cultivation of democratic practices of communication, but also present a higher threshold of engagement, as participants have to negotiate the structure of their mutual involvement). Food growing, while often undertaken through permacultural methods (and therefore a way perhaps to also get exposure to permaculture as a form of gardening), equally tries to nurture embodied dispositions towards dwelling communally by tending to a space together, by spending time alongside each other and exchanging views, by developing – together – ways to speak about the activities that are being undertaken (in such a way as to gradually build an awareness that is not a prerequisite for taking part in the first place). In this sense, engagement in food growing activities displays a tendency towards greater inclusivity that is distinctive of the moving of Transition vis-à-vis the phenomenon of permaculture. Food growing is undertaken not just for the sake of growing food in a particular way, such as to enable greater provision of local, seasonal and/or organic food. This is just the first layer of the story. Deeper down, food is one area of everyday experience through which the moving of Transition as a whole begins to shine. From community gardens and potlucks to community-supported agriculture initiatives down to the Food Hub, food within Transition appears always as an open invitation to get involved in something else and something more. This makes it an opening towards the development of new attachments and affinities, and new sensibilities – towards food, the ecology where the food growing takes place, the emerging sociality where the food is prepared and consumed – which all enable an orientation and a disposition towards undertaking even more ‘Transition things’ a part of one’s everyday life.45
One of the possible ‘next steps’ available upon having become involved in a common task, such as growing food, is the challenge of cultivating ways of relating to others in the common tending, so as to build into the life-world of Transition embodied and discursive responses to the tensions one may uncover in the process. These tensions pertain to the search for meaningful work, to the need for peer support and authentic human connection, and to ensuring resonance between the task tended to and the process by which the tending occurs, so as to prefigure in the doing the very qualities that the task is also meant to achieve.46 It follows from this that Inner Transition is a possible way ahead from here.
4. Inner Transition
Transition in Totnes started with a bang, in the form of an official ‘unleashing’ event. A longer process, facilitated by a small organising group, nonetheless preceded that event. The aim of that earlier awareness-raising stage was to spread the concerns prompted by the inaugural focus of Transition on peak oil and man-made climate change. Already during that process, it was possible to witness the incipient moving of Transition differentiate into kindred streams of activity set off in response to that initial disquiet. In other words, from its very start, the phenomenon of Transition began proliferating into a growing range of experiential possibilities.
One early concern that prompted internal differentiation within Transition stemmed from the gloomy/fatalist outlook on the human condition that seemed to surface whenever the scenario of peak oil would be introduced. This outlook would emerge from suggestions, for instance, that Transition might be ‘well and good’, but people would not change unless they were forced to. In response to observations such as these – suggesting an understanding of human nature whereby fear could be the only effective motivator to spark change – a group of psychological practitioners from Totnes were tipped into getting involved. They brought with them an aspiration to develop Transition so as to address dilemmas that were related – albeit occurring on a slightly different dimension – to the initial concerns about survival from peak oil. It is interesting to follow this incipient differentiation of Transition closely. This is because the point of engagement for these psychological practitioners was not so much a willingness to ‘add’ to Transition something it lacked, which would mean falling back into a summative approach to deconstructing a whole that holds together in inextricable fashion. Instead, it was as though they felt that there was an aspect of Transition that needed to be made explicit; a distinctive quality that needed dedicated tending to, to really make itself present. In this sense, Inner Transition stands out as an instance of differentiation and self-specification of an expansive form of life that discloses new folds from within itself, as opposed to the addition of previously unrelated and separately existing ingredients. This important nuance is conveyed in the written account offered by one member of that initial group of practitioners, which