My Beef with the 'Allotment' Brigade.

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The Cult of Going Green.

I've noticed how “Going green” used to mean you were about to vomit? Now it’s a lifestyle. A brand. A subscription service. “Going green down the allotments” sounds like a euphemism for composting your ex-wife.

These allotment people are not just growing carrots; they’re growing superiority complexes. Raised beds, raised eyebrows, and raised voices about the pH balance of their soil. “Oh, I only use heirloom seeds.” Heirloom? What is this, a Tudor salad!?

The Allotment Delusion
 

And they’ve all got that one shed. You know the shed. The shrine. The sanctum. Full of tools they don’t use and opinions they do. Solar panels on the roof, wind chimes made from ethically sourced spoons, and a sign that says “Bee Kind.” Bee kind? Bud, I just got stung by one of your tenants.

They talk about sustainability as if it were a religion. “I’m off-grid.” No, you’re off your rocker. You’ve got a compost toilet and a Wi-Fi router. You’re not off-grid you’re just inconvenient.

And the produce! They’ll hand you a courgette like it’s the Ark of the Covenant. “I grew this myself.” Yea? So did nature. You just got in the way!?

They say it’s all about reconnecting with the earth. But half of them wouldn’t know loam from a latte. They’re just cosplaying as peasants. It’s cosplay with kale.

And don’t get me started on the allotment politics. Petty turf wars over actual turf. “He encroached on my plot.” Bud, it’s a cabbage, not Crimea!

But, if growing your own veg makes you feel superior while you sip your nettle tea and judge the neighbour’s slug traps, go for it. Just don’t pretend it’s saving the planet. You’re not Greta Thunberg you’re Greg from Gateshead with a hoe and a dream.


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