Calendar An icon of a desk calendar. Cancel An icon of a circle with a diagonal line across. Caret An icon of a block arrow pointing to the right. Email An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of the Facebook "f" mark. Google An icon of the Google "G" mark. Linked In An icon of the Linked In "in" mark. Logout An icon representing logout. Profile An icon that resembles human head and shoulders. Telephone An icon of a traditional telephone receiver. Tick An icon of a tick mark. Is Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes. Is Not Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes with a diagonal line through it. Pause Icon A two-lined pause icon for stopping interactions. Quote Mark A opening quote mark. Quote Mark A closing quote mark. Arrow An icon of an arrow. Folder An icon of a paper folder. Breaking An icon of an exclamation mark on a circular background. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Caret An icon of a caret arrow. Clock An icon of a clock face. Close An icon of the an X shape. Close Icon An icon used to represent where to interact to collapse or dismiss a component Comment An icon of a speech bubble. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Ellipsis An icon of 3 horizontal dots. Envelope An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Home An icon of a house. Instagram An icon of the Instagram logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. Magnifying Glass An icon of a magnifying glass. Search Icon A magnifying glass icon that is used to represent the function of searching. Menu An icon of 3 horizontal lines. Hamburger Menu Icon An icon used to represent a collapsed menu. Next An icon of an arrow pointing to the right. Notice An explanation mark centred inside a circle. Previous An icon of an arrow pointing to the left. Rating An icon of a star. Tag An icon of a tag. Twitter An icon of the Twitter logo. Video Camera An icon of a video camera shape. Speech Bubble Icon A icon displaying a speech bubble WhatsApp An icon of the WhatsApp logo. Information An icon of an information logo. Plus A mathematical 'plus' symbol. Duration An icon indicating Time. Success Tick An icon of a green tick. Success Tick Timeout An icon of a greyed out success tick. Loading Spinner An icon of a loading spinner. Facebook Messenger An icon of the facebook messenger app logo. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Facebook Messenger An icon of the Twitter app logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. WhatsApp Messenger An icon of the Whatsapp messenger app logo. Email An icon of an mail envelope. Copy link A decentered black square over a white square.

Erica Munro: New wood-burning stove rules are a smokescreen that punishes wrong people

Instead of wasting time reverse-engineering chimney stacks in new-builds, why not go after giant global corporations?

Do these regulations fan the flames of 'otherness'? Image: Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock
Do these regulations fan the flames of 'otherness'? Image: Monkey Business Images/Shutterstock

Twenty-odd years ago, I was weeding the gravel and grubbed up what looked like a tiny birch seedling.

Too pretty to ignore, we put it in a jam jar of water. Then I found another. Then another. Thus began a lifestyle habit of rescuing and growing hundreds of teeny trees, seeds and cuttings, potting them up in a spot by the greenhouse I christened “Gravel Grove”, later to plant out or palm off to friends.

So far, as I’m informed by the spouse who actually does all of the grunt work, “we’ve” grown birch, beech, elm, whitebeam, oak, willow, juniper, Scots pine, hawthorn, sycamore, ash, yew, alder and holly – off into the world to save us all.

Gravel Grove makes me feel easier about all the wood we burn in our stove and on our log fire, even though we’re lucky to source it from fallen and responsibly-thinned local wood. Every so often, a cry goes up and my husband gets together with some of his friends – they call themselves the Chainsaw Masochists – to fall upon fallen boughs, sharing out the spoils for onward splitting and stacking with our families.

So, where does this wholesome, pampered point of view place me in the discussion about the abolition of wood burners in new homes? Well, I can stand up and applaud my fellow P&J columnist Iain Maciver’s “hit the teuchters while we can” dismantling of the Scottish Government’s plan, published last week. To have thousands of fellow rural Highlanders’ fundamental reliance on wood and peat fires reduced to categories labelled “exceptions” and “emergencies” is uncomfortably telling.

Erica and her family often chop their own firewood, from sustainable sources. Image: olgaarmawir/Shutterstock

Furthermore, having to find yet more money to spend on oil, gas, electricity, solar panels, heat pumps, whatever, without the bonus of a barrowload of hard-won logs from the stack seems like handing a win to the energy companies.

And it simply hurts my heart to think that, in years ahead, new homes won’t have the option of a fire. The hearth is the heart of my home. Fine if you don’t want one, they are a faff, but to have the possibility removed makes the future seem less cosy, less nostalgic, more brightly-lit, and not in a good way.

The future is where the real worry lies

The future. That’s where the real worry lies. Given that the new regulations only apply to new-builds and certain conversions, it is the younger generation who will be affected to a far greater degree than us oldies, from the very outset. Starter homes, affordable housing and shared ownership property tend to be newly built. And, because of incentives such as help-to-buy schemes, they are often the only homes most of the young stand even a snowball’s chance of affording these days.

So, I turned lovingly to my three 20-something children, brought up, you’ll recall, in the firelit glow of the stove, slightly scratched and dented from bucolic days manning the axe and the wheelbarrow, and asked what they thought of the new rules. Stand down, Ipsos Mori, the exhaustive research has been done and the results are in: ech, they’re not that fussed.

Instead of wasting time reverse-engineering chimney stacks in new-builds, why not go after the giant global corporations that actually cause the real problems?

But not in the sense of not appreciating the joys of a real fire. Rather, they are too filled with quiet resignation and disappointment, too preoccupied with bigger things than whether their mythical future home (full disclosure: one child has recently managed to buy his own place) does or doesn’t have a fireplace.

Here’s the gist of their views: is this meant to be helping solve the climate crisis? Because, instead of wasting time reverse-engineering chimney stacks in new-builds, why not go after the giant global corporations that actually cause the real problems?

How about investing in infrastructure and public services so that less of us need to drive our cars everywhere? Or, or, what about some massive investment in renewables which are, you know, renewable? And in global recycling technology, so that the burning – the real, big, scary burning – stops?

Below that outburst came the smaller, sadder thought: “I’m pretty indifferent, as the prospect of me owning my own house feels way too far away.”

Can they not see the wood for the trees?

If that’s the youth perspective, admittedly from a small but perfectly-formed sample, then here’s mine: these regulations are a nasty little swipe at the autonomy of future householders’ choices, a death knell for stove manufacturers and installers, and a genuine body blow for those in locations where mainstream power is unreliable, weather-dependent or non-existent.

My daughter has a friend who says “everyone has a right to a fire.” Whether they elect to or not used to be up to them – but, now, everyone does not. And young people are already living their lives with less.

New-build homes in Scotland can no longer use wood-burning stoves as their primary method of heating, barring some exceptions. Image: Sorn340 Studio Images/Shutterstock

Is this all a smokescreen? Can they not see the wood for the trees? Do these regulations fan the flames of “otherness” that keep rich and poor, young and old, urban and rural, divided – and, thus, conquerable?

Heavens, it’s been a long walk from Gravel Grove to Misery Street. But at least I’ve a toasty fire to come home to.


Erica Munro is a novelist, playwright, screenwriter and freelance editor

Conversation