A few weeks ago I found myself unexpectedly emotional over a stranger’s TikTok (unexpected? Who am I kidding? I’m KNOWN for causing my family consternation at my weepy eyes, only for them to discover I’ve been scrolling rescued cat stories again) . Not because anyone was dancing or selling me suspiciously cheap kitchenware, or explaining how the moon landing was staged by lizards.
A young woman had filmed the moment her parents met their first grandchild. That was it. A few seconds of unfiltered humanity. Her father walked into the room, looked at his daughter and the baby and burst into tears. Pride, joy, love, fear, astonishment – all of it flickered across his face in about ten seconds. The next video wasn’t much different. A daughter arrived desperately at her parents’ house after her heart had been broken. Her dad opened the door, took one look at her and wrapped her in a hug. No questions.
It struck me that this is what social media does well. Not the endless outrage or people arguing about things they don’t understand with strangers. Just those fleeting glances of ordinary lives.
Meanwhile, my inbox continues to fill. I received my very first letter to the editor during the pandemic — people were certainly frightened and angry then. In 2026, the tone is different. People are worried about housing, planning, healthcare, farming, the climate, the economy and what comes next. People have taken the time to write thoughtful responses, do the research, complete questionnaires, attend consultations, submit objections, ask questions and engage with the systems around them … only to find nobody is listening.
It’s exhausting. Perhaps that is why those brief videos cut through the noise. They remind me that beyond the bureaucracy, the systems, the policies and the arguments, most of us are still doing the same things we have always done: raising children, caring for parents, laughing at the cat, worrying about the future, trying to get it right.
The headlines tell us what divides us. But to me, most of the time, the important stuff is still there, connecting us.
People still fall in love. Become grandparents. Have their hearts broken. Stand at front doors and hold each other up.
And I hope that’s what matters.
Laura x
On planning
I have always believed that an authority’s policies and procedures, which govern the way we live together, should be robust, transparent and consistently applied. They exist to support the social, economic and, increasingly, environmental wellbeing of communities and the individuals and families who live within them. If those policies are ever set aside, I would expect a clear and detailed explanation as to why.
A recent planning decision affecting my home has shattered that belief. The planning officer’s report appears subjective, flimsy and at times contradictory, offering little substantive evidence to justify the conclusions it reaches. It reads less like a carefully reasoned assessment and more like an opinion, with insufficient weight given to the policies that are supposed to guide decision-making.
Our town does not enjoy the transport links or employment opportunities of Gillingham or Blandford. Yet four large housing developments are already under way. It is reasonable to ask who these homes are being built for, and what evidence exists that they meet a genuine local need. My own children have struggled to find suitable employment locally, and many young people continue to leave rural areas in search of opportunities elsewhere.
What concerns me most is the growing sense that policies designed to protect communities are being steadily abandoned. In their place we see broad assertions, selective reasoning and conclusions that appear designed to support development rather than objectively assess it.
I fear that we are sleepwalking into a serious mistake for rural communities. If the rules no longer matter, and decisions can be justified regardless of what those rules say, then public confidence in the planning system will inevitably collapse.
And if those in positions of authority cannot see that danger, or choose to ignore it, then we should all be deeply concerned.
R Nye, by email
I am sick to death of being called a NIMBY.
I want young people to have homes. I want local families to be able to afford to stay in Dorset. What I don’t want is the endless destruction of good farmland, countryside and village identity in the name of a ‘housing crisis’ that never seems to get any better. Everywhere you look there are new estates. Thousands upon thousands of houses. Yet somehow houses remain unaffordable, GP surgeries remain overwhelmed, roads remain congested and infrastructure remains a promise for tomorrow.
We have handed responsibility for solving the housing crisis to the very companies that profit from high house prices. Why would developers flood the market and reduce the value of their own product? It is an absurd contradiction at the heart of government policy, and everyone can see it except, apparently, the government.
And what exactly are ordinary residents supposed to do about it? We attend consultations. We submit objections. We point out flooding concerns, traffic problems and failing infrastructure. Flag the socking great errors, lies and ommissions on the planning applications. Then the houses get approved anyway.There is no mechanism left for local people to say “enough”. We are expected to accept decisions made elsewhere by our ‘betters’ who probably haven’t even visited the site. We must pretend our views matter. We don’t hate change. We hate watching the place we love being fundamentally altered, and nobody with any power appears remotely interested in listening.
Name and address supplied
On countryside loss
For those who are concerned by the article in the May issue on landscape loss, Dorset CPRE’s 2026 online Conference on 9th June ‘Getting the balance right between Dorset’s Housing, Nature and the Countryside‘, will explore how the county’s treasured landscapes and natural history can be protected and nurtured in the face of increasing pressure from Development. Chaired by Roger Mortlock, CPRE CEO, we will have presentations from Dorset Wildlife Trust, Wessex Water, Planning for Nature team, Land Use Consultants, Dorset Council and BCP Council. After the presentations, there will be a debate on the issues raised and a Q&A session.
To book and find out more visit dorset-cpre.org.uk/get-involved/events/2026-planning-conference/
Dorset CPRE
[The issue with land loss to development, and the subsequent loss of rural communities] is a Europe wide issue. For example in the Netherlands Geert Mak’s ‘Jorwerd: The Death of the Village in Late Twentieth-Century Europe’. The author moved to the small Frisian village of Jorwerd in the north of the Netherlands to document the rapid decline of traditional European rural life. He details how modern pressures – such as corporate superstores, automated farming, and EU quotas – unravelled centuries-old community structures, turning a working farming community into a quiet commuter town.The pattern, this trend, is observable in France, Spain, Italy, Portugal – you name it.
Simon Baddeley, via Facebook
Goodness who wrote this one-sided soliloquy? I fully expect whoever wrote this has plans to demolish their house – surely built on what was once prime agricultural land – and return it to agricultural use… or else they’re an incorrigible hypocrite.
There’s a national housing crisis. Ask anyone who’s languishing on the Council’s housing register. Ask anyone who’s struggling to find somewhere decent to rent on the private rental market.
Cllr Oliver Patrick, Coker
On the Grumbler’s £60k housing need
I’m local, homeless and earned £30k+ last year. I still couldn’t afford a private rent on my own. If I had a wife and family and needed a four-bed place I can see how £60k household gross wouldn’t be loads, and certainly not enough to save for a deposit. Once you take out all the tax and costs to earn that £60k, you will be left with half. Thats about £2,600 a month with rent and bills to pay being £1,600, leaving £250 a week for food and fun for a family of 5 or 6: no way could you save for a deposit on a £300k house. Whereas in social housing the rent would be £500 less a month enabling them to save. So in essence ‘up to £60k’ needs social housing to help that family buy a house in 10 years time. That’s how hard it is now
Stuart Carver, Facebook
When, as a Parish Councillor, I was working on a response to the proposal to build a mass of housing in Martinstown, I was told that our “local need” stretched from Lyme Regis to Wimborne. So, those who like me are sympathetic to developments needed to support local (and lower paid) working families, would in fact be merely providing national housing stock.
Mark Pemberton, facebook
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