Standing on the cliffs of Ireland’s North Mayo coastline, I recently looked over the world’s most extensive Stone Age monument – the humble but thought-provoking Céide Fields (pronounced ‘kay-ja’). These fields are the oldest and largest fossilised farmland known to us, dating back nearly 6000 years and spread across land of approximately five square miles. Beneath the boglands, ancient walls of fields, tombs, cattle stores and houses have been preserved, shedding light on our ancestors – and raising questions about our humanity and our future as a species. Like us, our ancestors faced environmental change. Like us, they were human.
Discovered in the 1930s by local schoolmaster, Patrick Caulfield, the incredible find of hundreds of Stone Age farms was later to be examined and (partly) excavated by his archaeologist son Seamus in 1969. People have long dug peat as a source of fuel for fires in Ireland and the presence of stone walls beneath layers of peat, which takes thousands of years to form, hinted at a truly ancient piece of history. These prehistoric walls have since been painstakingly mapped out and analysed using radiocarbon dating and archaeological bog, pollen and tree analysis, giving us a glimpse into the lives of the people who first farmed Ireland. Artefacts found at the site reveal a community that worked together; organising the land with the skills to manage cattle, clear and plough land – to fell trees and build homes.
Neolithic climate change
On a 2024 summer’s day, looking out to the stunning Dún Briste sea stack of Downpatrick Head, I was wearing the fleece-lined jacket my husband gave me for our trip to Iceland last year. Despite being July, it was not warm but for once, not raining. How could anyone think of growing crops here? Thousands of years ago, the west coast of Ireland had a warmer climate with far less rainfall, meaning early farmers could grow produce all year round. I couldn’t help but think of our current predicament with climate change, learning how they were likely forced from the land with increased bog formation following deforestation and gradually falling temperatures in the Northern Hemisphere.
Now humanity is facing extreme climatic change and environmental damage on an unprecedented scale. Our species has largely moved away from a nomadic lifestyle. It is impossible to shift an entire city, rehydrate a nation in drought or clean up waters with nearly as much plastic as fish.
Think globally, act locally, in collaboration
We rightly try to teach our children to recycle, walk to school and spend time in nature so that we don’t lose touch completely. Ambitious environmental goals are missed and extended, talk of passing the tipping point environmentally brings apathy and frustration. Green parties gain strength but not always seats, the vast hold of capitalist consumerism grips many with wealth, and poverty leaves no options for many more without. Should we expect a parent with their family living in poverty to choose between buying the cheapest option and something organic or nations to switch to expensive electric cars when there is no infrastructure? When we know the consequences of our actions, we tend to want to do the right thing, but it is not always realistic to put the future of humanity elsewhere, first. For many in developing countries, it is not even on the agenda, let alone legislation.
It is a great motto, to ‘think globally and act locally’. But for the people living in the Céide Fields, community would not have meant a global village and survival was not for a species. A globalising world and industrialisation have since led to a huge dichotomy for mankind. Technological advancement is a double-edged sword; we are struggling to cope with our creations as a species while extending our capacity to love and care for our neighbours in distant lands of the future. It is no wonder that until recently, the Green Movement has largely been on the fringes of political agendas, seeming like a fluffy pipe dream of the young generation. Environmental change is happening fast, and we can’t survive without collaboration.
Extending acts of kindness
I often say that wherever you go in the world, children are much the same. Keen to seek out their basic needs from their elders, children revel in as much fun and care as possible while absorbing new skills from their community at an astonishing rate. While nurture plays a role, we are inherently capable of both empathy and selfishness – traits that are not unique to humans. We are more likely to flourish as individuals when we work together as a team, be it as a family, tribe, village or nation yet this inevitably often involves clashes from conflict of interest.
A hypothetical scenario of deciding to go hungry to feed one’s child is sadly a common one, worldwide, yet not surprising in a human sense. Extending acts of kindness towards the future of the entire species is asking for a fairly high level of empathy for an abstract collective gain. A cleaner, greener future is understandably low on the priority list for a family living in poverty – are we simply reaching our tipping point in empathy? I don’t believe so and maintain optimism. But this depends on the eradication of inequality alongside progressive, scientific education.
Climate science is complex and our understanding of our influence on the environment is naturally tainted with resistance to change from those with power and large multinationals. The very richest in society and the wealthiest nations contribute the most to climate change while the poorest are impacted worst by the effects. According to the United Nations, multidimensional inequality with climate change is a vicious cycle, perpetuated both within countries and internationally. When our drive to survive and consume becomes so superfluous to our needs, we must make the distant social and environmental devastation known to the consumer. The debate on who takes responsibility should continue, to protect those who do not have the power to make impactful change.
Céide Fields farmers were like us
Like us, our Irish ancestors cared about where their next meal came from, told stories and protected their young. They had the organisational ability to settle on land and form a community that could work as a team. They used arrowheads forged from the flint in the north of Ireland and are thought to have migrated from other lands in Europe by boat, with cattle and crops. It is in our nature to travel, trade, explore and build homes together but sometimes nature or conflict forces our hand to move. Differences divide us until we can find that common ground.
The superstitions and mythologies of old have slowly been replaced with scientific understanding but we still love a good story. From shared narratives we can learn and grow; our increased awareness of a globally insecure humanity is naturally testing the limits of how much we can care in real terms.
Without those in power working to eliminate inequality, our hands are tied. Green policies should not be the expensive option but the easy one. Call me idealistic but I believe it is our inherent nature to care. Yes, climate change and environmental disasters are not new, but this should not be an excuse for those with the most influence to close their eyes to the effects and their power to mitigate them. Great research and continued dialogue can make our global community closer together.
Ancient beauty
I trusted my husband with his characteristically unusual surprise of a place to visit for our wedding anniversary and as usual, it left me amazed and thoughtful. My childlike love of rocks and digging gave me the instinct to want to dig up the miles of so-far-unearthed mysteries beneath our feet. But learning about the value of the rich bogland to the environment gave me another perspective. We have learned enough from the excavations that have been made to establish that Ireland’s first farmers also faced climate change and like us, faced the need to adapt. There is an ironic beauty to the bog cotton and wildflowers growing over and alongside the organised rows of ancient Stone Age walls.
The visitor centre at this Heritage Ireland site is well worth a visit, with education and an ethos of environmental preservation throughout.
