The right man for the job
Thank you Pete Betts
Hi friends,
I was unwell last Thursday, so consider this an extraordinary edition of The Murmuration. If you are new here, welcome! I write about a world in transition, sharing personal and political essays every couple of weeks. If you appreciate my writing and are able to financially support my work, then do consider becoming a paid subscriber for £5/mo or £50/year. Thank you.
I am a freelance writer and editor, and have some slots opening up in the new year for any publishers/writers/agents who need an extra helping hand with manuscripts or proposals. More info here.
Six months ago, a friend put me in contact with a man called Pete Betts. Pete had spent the past thirty years working as a civil servant, spending a good chunk of that time as the UK’s chief negotiator on climate. He had been the driving force behind the UK’s ambitious climate goals, was one of the architects of the Paris Climate Agreement and championed the integration of net zero within policy. Now he was writing a book about the politics of climate change and wanted some help from an editor.
Feeling somewhat intimated by his resume, I caught the train to his home in Clapham, walking across the common from the station on a dry, arid day. The grasses had grown leggy by this point, turning to hay as the end of July approached. Pete’s wife Fiona opened their front door, and invited me into their back garden, where Peter was already in-situ under a large canopy. Fiona had bought some pastries from Gail’s bakery, and for the next couple of hours we discussed his book and how I might be able to help.
Do you think you are the right person for this job? he asked, quite frankly.
I think so, I replied--and if not, there’d be no hard feelings.
Pete was dying when we met. He had been diagnosed with a brain tumour which was severely impacting his health. But his mind was remarkably sharp whenever we talked about ‘the book’, which was often. He would send me emails at all hours of the day, explaining his views on a wide range of issues, from carbon credits to the efficacy of Just Stop Oil as their actions hit the headlines. The book seemed to sustain and fuel Peter’s mind, spurring him on as he and Fiona navigated the numerous health challenges that were affecting his body.
I started to go through the chapters he had already written. Asking him to add more detail or provide more colour to some of his brilliant stories about his time as a diplomat, and crucially, encouraging him to write an introduction and conclusion. ‘I can’t write that for you’ I would often say during our Zoom calls. The possibility that Pete wouldn’t live long enough to complete the book himself was always the unspoken context to our discussions. His steadfast wife, Fiona, would take copious notes during our meetings, mindful, I’m sure, of that she would ultimately inherit the project.
Despite only knowing Pete for a brief period of his life, I was struck by both his insatiable appetite to be challenged on his ideas, and his unrelating desire to get to the heart of what matters for the future of our planet. He believed that the climate would not be saved through the politics of division and extremes, but through the coalitions of the willing. Decades of diplomacy had shown him that remarkable things can be achieved when small groups of likeminded and determined people are able to work together in the best interests of the planet. In this respect, he believed that the long-criticised ‘COPs’ which had formed the backbone of his career, were still one of the only forums where this kind of work could happen. There is plenty about the way COP works that is frustrating and in need of reform, he admitted, but it’s also one of the only places that brings together the global north and south in a focused way. We must not abandon it.
Yesterday I returned to Clapham to attend Pete’s funeral. It was a beautiful testament not only to his achievements within climate diplomacy, but also the strength and depth of his humanity. Friends spoke of his ability to really ‘see’ people and be eager to connect with everyone he met. Childhood friends commented on his humble upbringing, and how it informed his worldview and ability to engage, and negotiate, with people from around the world. As we made our way from the church, I spoke to a former colleague of Pete’s called Sepi Golzari-Munro, and we agreed that he was radical in the way he was genuinely interested in all people, and not afraid to hide it; a subversive and counter-cultural quality.
I am immeasurably grateful to have known Pete during the final months of his life. To have witnessed his utter determination to do all that he could for other people until the day he died. Being in his company was a privilege.
From within the conservative world of climate diplomacy, Pete was able to harness his love of us all and translate that into political consensus. We owe him a huge debt.
I wanted to share this quote from John Donne’s Meditations included in yesterday’s order of service, which articulates the values and principles that motivated this remarkable man:
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of they friends’ or of thine own were.
Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
If you would like to hear more about Pete’s life then listen to this Radio 4 edition of ‘Last Word’ which includes contributions from Pete and Fiona (and eventually, buy his book!)
THINGS I’M PAYING ATTENTION TO:
Together for Humanity are organising a vigil in London this Sunday: ‘We’re here to create a space for people to grieve for all civilians killed in this war — Israeli or Palestinian — and to share a vision of hope that people of different backgrounds and faiths can live in peace alongside each other, here in the UK and around the world.’ More details here.
In January I will resume the task of editing Pete’s book. I found this New Yorker piece ‘A friend died, her novel unfinished, could I realise her vision?’ by Leslie Jamison a really insightful read into this nuanced process.
I recently signed an open letter to the UK publishing industry expressing solidarity with Palestinian colleagues and creatives. I am deeply alarmed that a number of co-signatories have been disciplined by their employers for doing so.
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