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The Daily Telegraph

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I’ve recently been to see ‘Written on the Heart’ performed by the Royal Shakespeare Company. It’s a new play written by David Edgar to tie in with the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible (KJB) and what a remarkable performance the company delivered in their newly refurbished home in Stratford-upon-Avon.

The play is based on some of the people who played a key part in the production of the KJB –the biggest selling English language book ever. Like it or hate it the KJB has undoubtedly played a huge role in the history of the English speaking people and indeed no less an atheist than Richard Dawkins has stated that ‘Not to know the KJB is to be in some small way, barbarian.’

And yet as ‘Written on the Heart’ makes clear the vital work that preceded the KJB was not welcomed. William Tyndale, whose work constitutes around 80% of the KJB, was forced to flee to Germany in 1524 in order to carry on his work and the fruit of his labours had to be smuggled into Britain only to be burnt ceremonially outside St Paul’s Cathedral. In the mid 1530’s Tyndale was arrested for heresy and in a moving scene Edgar shows us Tyndale incarcerated in a Flanders dungeon shortly before he was executed

And yet the powers that be (there’s a KJB expression for you!) could not hold back the force of the written word presented directly to the people in a style and methodology suited to the times. In many ways we find ourselves in a similar position today. The communications revolution that we have witnessed in recent times has changed the world every bit as much as the printing press did at the beginning of the modern era. If you need convincing, just take a look at the role that Twitter and the humble SMS have had in the Arab Spring.

It might seem odd then, that I still talk to a lot of organisations that have been remarkably naïve in their attitude to the possibilities for better conversations that new technology offers them. Some seem to want to hold things back, many seem to live in denial, whilst others leap into the virtual world with abandon – failing to think through what they are trying to achieve.

According to Foxe’s Acts and Monuments of Martyrs, William Tyndale’s last words at the stake were: ‘Lord, ope the King of England’s eyes’ and perhaps those words are still relevant as we reflect on how the technology revolution has presented us with new possibilities that could really help our organisations to thrive in challenging times but which we haven’t yet seen.

The windpump, known as Norman’s Mill, was relocated to Wicken Fen in the 1950’s

Coming back from a long weekend’s birding on the North Norfolk coast we decided to break our journey at Wicken Fen – a National Trust property that preserves the only section of the Great Fen that has never yet been ploughed. It’s an amazing expanse of reeds and sedge trimmed by emerging woodland and dykes. We’d visited in the spring and had been delighted to see all manner of summer migrants (including cuckoos) and breeding lapwings wheeling joyfully and calling our their vernacular name – ‘peewit, peewit, peewit’.

To be honest there weren’t a lot of birds around. Distant views of hunting peregrines and kestrels and a large flock of redwings fresh in for the winter from Scandanavia on a north wind were probably the highlight in terms of birds. That said, it was great to watch the hunting dragonflies and wild honey bees busying themselves in a new hive they had established in a deep fissure in an ancient willow.

I was most taken though by a volunteer preparing a wind pump for action. As the wind freshened we watched him stretching out and securing green curtains of canvass to two of the four vanes. It was a lengthy process that gathered quite a crowd who were delighted once the fastening ropes were firmly in place and the sails of the only working wooden windpump in the Fens began to whirl and water began to move.

“This windpump, known as Norman’s Mill, was relocated here in the 1950’s,” our volunteer Peter explained, “but it no longer drains the fen, it’s all about getting water onto the fen these days as Wicken is gradually drying out. As you probably know Wicken has been heavily studied by students at Cambridge University for decades and many plants and animals have disappeared or are in the process of doing so. In particular the swallowtail butterfly no longer flies here as its food plant, the milk parsley has become very scarce – mostly because of reduced water levels.

“Norman’s Mill has been doing it’s best but nowadays we don’t get any of the alkali flood water off the Newmarket chalk ridge so we’re fighting acidity too. That’s where our new pump is going to make all the difference.” Peter pointed to another, modern wind pump just across the fen. “Very soon that windmill will be pumping water out onto Wicken from a chalk stream and it could make all the difference. Seeds from historic plant life will be regenerated and once the plants are back the insects, maybe even swallowtails, will follow and Wicken’s whole web of life could be restored.”

How wonderful is that I thought, and all thanks to the power of Norman (and his human helpers of course) to do what he could even when it wasn’t really enough. Norman held the fort until re-inforcements appeared – a lesson perhaps for all of us as we deal with issues and difficulties that often seem to be overwhelming us.