But what about the rest of the population? What and whom is the land for? Houses? Food? Recreation? Wildlife? Carbon sinks (soaking up pollution from industrial living)? I was born in Lincoln on the edge of the fens, prime agricultural land, but only recently have I begun to explore them. The long drains are astonishing. Dug by hand, an intricate web of ditches drained land that was marsh or water. Water was then pumped up to drains above ground level, which could carry the water off to the sea. The labour and ingenuity are awesome. OK, it relied on Dutch expertise (and originally Romans') but it is amazing. The drainage of Cromwell's time was restricted by windmill power but with steam, pumping stations' capacity grew. All of us have relied ­without realising it ­ on such investment and ingenuity of past generations. But this can wither. Recessions, trade policy, runs on banks can throw the land's capacity into reverse. I have known this most of my working life. Not least because where I farmed in the Forest of Bowland, our farm was a living fossil. Field patterns, buildings, woods, all bearing testament to the changing whims of macro-economic and political forces. At a conference hosted by Oxford County Council last weekend, I argued that farming needs to produce more of what the public health needs. Why are we importing such huge amounts of fruit and vegetables? Why doesn't the new government free school fruit scheme demand local, British fruit? Where is the joined up government? Nutrition is not connecting with the land. {{NEWS }}