Our bloody Valentine problem

Tis the season to be sensationally unsustainable – exploring the true cost of that Valentine’s Day bouquet

Hi, I’m Dan, and this is my alternative gardening newsletter, The Earthworm. Whether you’re a first-time reader or a long-time subscriber, thanks for being here. This Valentine’s Day, why not give that special someone in your life the gift that keeps on giving: a subscription to The Earthworm!

Nothing says “romance” quite like the commemoration of an early Christian martyr. A man about whom next to nothing is known, other than he died for his faith and his body was buried on the side of an Ancient Roman highway.

I know, right! Awww, so sweet! I can feel myself going all gushy and weak at the knees.

Cynicism aside, there’s no denying that St Valentine’s day has, for centuries now, become a firm fixture in our consumerist – sorry, Christian – calendars. Just like Easter (aka the resurrection of Christ), where we celebrate the egg-hiding antics of a mischievous bunny rabbit and over-indulge on chocolate. Or like Christmas (aka the birth of Christ), where we celebrate the chimney-abseiling endeavours of a plump, magical, elven sweatshop operator, and over-indulge on chocolate.

Well, it is only right then that we mark Valentine’s Day by standing in line outside a high street florist for a solid hour, before paying a small fortune for some out-of-season cut flower stems with more air miles between them than Richard Branson. Oh, and over-indulge on chocolate.

As you can probably tell, I’m not exactly a fan of V-day. It’s not that I don’t think there’s a place for romance in this world, or that I feel that love is not worth celebrating. Quite the opposite!

Call me crazy, but I feel like a truly romantic gesture – even one as conventional as the giving of a floral bouquet or a box of chocolates – might actually be more meaningful if it was spontaneous. As in, if it took place at literally any other time of the year, as opposed to on a single culturally mandated date.

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Roses are beautiful. With their delicate, soft, often fragrant blooms in tones of scarlet, cream, apricot, violet, blush and more besides, it’s little wonder that across the globe, and across cultures, roses have become emblematic of romantic love. (Roses, in fact, are emblematic of all sorts of things to all sorts of people, as leading international rose expert Michael Marriott explained in this interview I ran with him last year.)

Little wonder then, you might think, that the rose has become the traditional token of devotion at Valentine’s Day. But as a matter of fact, it is surprising, or at least it should be.

Take a stroll along your neighbourhood streets and count how many rose flowerheads you can catch sight of today. You probably know as well as I do, without even leaving the comfort of your chair, that the sum total would be a big fat zero. February is the time of year that we cut our dormant rose bushes back, to prepare them for a dazzling display come summer. It is certainly not the time to be collecting lush, bountiful blooms.

Our cut rose stems at this time of year, here in the UK (but also most of Europe and North America) are imported. According to figures from the SSAW Collective – a campaign group extolling the virtues of seasonality in all plant-based industries – 80% of cut flowers sold in Britain come via the Netherlands, with a high proportion of these originating in Kenya. (As you won’t be surprised to learn, if you’ve read my interview with British flower grower Ben Cross.) It is Colombia and Ecuador that are the biggest exporters for the US market.

Romance is big business, and Cupid runs one hell of an operation: An estimated 570 metric tonnes of roses are shipped into the UK each February alone. Most of these stems have travelled thousands of miles in refrigerated freight containers to get here. Ancient symbolism notwithstanding, the globe-trotting nature of the cut flower trade is a major part of the reason why roses have become the Valentine’s Day gift de rigueur: they’re robust enough to tolerate being densely packed, and will survive for much longer in these conditions than many other popular cut flowers.

As you may have seen if you read a piece titled ‘Why buy roses in February?’ over on Radicle recently, SSAW estimate that a Kenya-grown bouquet that includes five rose stems has a carbon footprint of 31.132kg/CO2. If that number means nothing to you, consider that a locally grown bouquet, containing zero roses, but instead 15 locally grown, seasonal flowers, would have a carbon footprint of just 1.71kg/CO2.

I’m not trying to kill your Valentine’s Day buzz, nor am I trying to put any florists out of business, nor even am I hoping to shame anyone who has already splashed out on a dozen red roses for their beloved. But if you are planning to celebrate Love Day, and are yet to purchase a token of your affection for that special someone in your life – which, with a day to go, is probably when most people start thinking about such things – then why not consider an alternative to the standard bunch of roses?

It is actually an excellent time of year to give someone a rose. A bare root rose bush, that is. I’m reminded of the Oxfam ad that was all over our television sets back in the mid-00s: “Give a man a fish, and he’ll feed himself for just a day. But give him the means to catch his own fish, and he’ll be able to feed himself and his family for a whole lifetime.”

Well: give a man (or woman, or person of any or no gender identity) a bouquet of roses, and they’ll have a symbol of your affection for a few days. But give them the means to grow their own roses, and they’ll be reminded of your love for a whole lifetime. (Or until the plant succumbs to black spot, rust, powdery mildew and/or Botrytis, anyway.)

Requiring more effort (but surely all the more romantic for it), you could forage for your own bespoke bouquet. Go out into your garden and snip some evergreen foliage; find some flowers and berries growing wild along hedgerows, public highways or bridleways. Stick to public land, and only take as much as you need, always remembering to leave plenty for other people, pollinators and creatures to enjoy.

And if, when presented with one of these alternatives, the recipient of your bush or bouquet questions the value or validity of your gift, try regaling them with this amorous incantation:

Roses are red

And romantic, it’s true.

It’s February though, and the carbon cost of importing cut flowers from the global south just to tick a box in our annual calendar of global consumption is both unsustainable and unjustifiable.

But I love you.

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How do you feel about Valentine’s Day? Have you sworn off rose stems? Or do you think I’ve got the wrong end of the thorny stick? I love hearing from you, so leave a comment and let me know!

Header photo credit: Zen zeee on Unsplash