Phytoliths are formed in plants which take up soluble silicon from the soil, and concentrate it in certain cells where it precipitates out as solid silica, which is very hard. They’re the reason that you cut your hand on something like pampas grass.
In 1980, I applied for a job in Bangor with the then leading expert on phytoliths, Dr Dafydd Wynn Parry. I’d very little idea about them at the time, but I’ve now worked on phytoliths and plant silica for 43 years.
I collaborate with scientists of a whole variety of disciplines around the world: agriculture, archaeology, biogeochemistry, cancer research, chemistry, food science, palaeoecology, and now climate change.
In autumn, leaves fall and are buried by earthworms, and a lot of organic matter is added, but fungi and bacteria start to break it down and release carbon into the atmosphere as carbon dioxide. With phytoliths, the organic matter is protected by silica, so carbon is released much more slowly. It is feasible that we could use this to draw down carbon from the atmosphere, helping in the fight against climate change.
Our research is in the theoretical stages, but, yes, it might be possible to capture carbon through phytoliths in Britain. We’re honest — it’s still being worked on, and we’d need other specialists to work out how to apply it — but I do believe it has some potential.
Cereals like wheat produce a lot of phytoliths in their leaves and stems. Maybe we could continue to harvest the grain but bury the leaves and the stems. Or maybe we could use conservation agriculture techniques, and just allow more of the leaf litter — containing lots of phytoliths with their protected carbon — to enter naturally into the soil. We’re losing a lot of our soil through erosion, and also from the release of carbon when the soil is exposed, and this would also help with those problems.
I joined Oxford Brookes University in 1989, and rose to principal lecturer, before stepping back a bit to become a visiting researcher and associate lecturer. I’m also an associate member of the Institute of Human Sciences at the University of Oxford, and principal tutor of Christian Rural and Environmental Studies (CRES).
Now, I work for several institutions, secular and Christian. This year, my wife, Margot, and I led a ten-week Master’s module on “Creation Care and Christian Mission” for All Nations Christian College, entirely online.
The overwhelming majority of scientists, Christian or not, agree that humanity is the cause of the present rapid warming, and advocate a rapid decarbonisation of the world’s energy systems. There’s no reason to debate with sceptics on climate change: to engage in debate with the one per cent of sceptics, you’re suggesting there is a debate to be had.
As time has gone on, it became clear that we could alter the climate, we have altered it, and we continue to alter it.
Renewable energy — wind, solar, and batteries — gives me hope. We recently installed solar panels on our roof, and a battery in the garage. Even in the British winter, it massively cut our electricity bill and carbon emissions. In the summer, we are powering our house and our electric car with very little electricity from the grid. There are lots of potential techno-fixes out there, and we should certainly continue to research them, but many are probably years away from being deployed, and we’re not even sure they will work.
The Christian environmental movement is now very strong in the UK. I have been particularly involved with the John Ray Initiative (JRI), a small educational charity. Now 7000-plus churches have registered for the Eco Church scheme. Then look at the Church of England’s ambitious Net Zero target of 2030. We know from our own work in theological colleges that the issue is rising up their agenda. Last year, I did a Twitter survey on why some parts of the Church aren’t involved. Apathy and lack of finance, not theology, were the key factors.
Things really took off for me in 2008, when I was the tour scientist for the Hope for Planet Earth tours of the UK with JRI, A Rocha UK, Tearfund, and Share Jesus International. The tour was led by the Methodist evangelist Rob Frost, and the Christian climate scientist Sir John Houghton. Sir John was Professor of Atmospheric Physics at Oxford, then head of the UK Met Office, and the first chair of the science panel for the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).
I worked with Sir John on the science presentation, and gave the talk over 100 times to schools in the day, and Christian groups in the evening. Since then, I’ve given presentations to all sorts of Christian groups.
I grew up in Birmingham. My mother was really keen on natural history, which is probably where my interest in the environment and biology started. My father was born within earshot of Villa Park, and we often used to go to watch Aston Villa.
Life now is incredibly varied, and perhaps a little crazy. It’s a mixture of teaching, writing, speaking, and organising events. Church plays a big part in all kinds of ways. To relax, we like walking, going to concerts, and occasionally head up to Villa Park.
My first experience of God was studying religious knowledge at O level. We took it a year earlier than all the other exams. The syllabus was probably a bit advanced for my age: the synoptic problem, Quella, and all that. I didn’t really believe in the material presented, but it gave me a good knowledge of the overall Christian story — to be worked on later in life.
After years of searching, I became a Christian in Jerusalem, while working as a scientist at the Hebrew University. Some years later, I met a young church worker called Margot who was speaking at an event I attended. We married. Margot felt a call to ordination. I became a clergy spouse, and Margot began 23 years of pastoral ministry. I became an authorised preacher.
Increasingly, we worked together on our environmental work. Often, I’d lead off church events with the latest on environmental science, Margot would speak on theology and ethics, and we’d join together to consider appropriate actions in response. We also wrote a lot together, including A Christian Guide to Environmental Issues. Margot has recently given up pastoral ministry to concentrate on the environment full time.
It makes me angry that, after many years of warnings from Sir John Houghton, the IPCC, and other scientists around the world, there’s been so little progress in tackling climate change and the wider environmental crisis. Our political leaders, and the heads of multinational companies, have often known about the problems for many years, but, for their own selfish reasons, chose to do nothing about them.
We recently moved to a new house, and when we picked up the keys we heard skylarks in the field next door. I love them. I really appreciate ancient rock music. Last month we went to see Yes in Bristol. They’re superb musicians.
I have three types of hope. There’s proximate hope: “we can fix it.” Solar panels and batteries come in here, and maybe phytoliths. We can’t techno-fix all our problems, but technology can help. And there’s ultimate hope: Jesus will return and we’ll see a renewal of all creation.
Sometimes proximate hope seems to wear rather thin, and it’s easy to flip to ultimate hope — but that can disable action; so we need resilient hope. Margot finds it in Romans 5: “suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope” — keeping-going-whatever hope, resourced by future hope. We’re going to need all three hopes.
I pray for our world at this time of environmental crisis, for all those who are already suffering, and for world leaders to wake up and take concerted action.
Vera Brittain’s Testament of Youth documents her time as a nurse in the First World War, in which she lost her fiancé, his best friends, and her brother. My family was similarly affected: we lost three great-uncles and a great-aunt. Her passionate desire for peace and justice inspired me, and I’d like to be locked in a church with her for a couple of hours.
Dr Hodson was talking to Terence Handley MacMath.
A Christian Guide to Environmental Issues is published by BRF (second edition, 2021)
jri.org.uk