Street lite

Photo: Clive Simpson

On the road home the night-time light has changed. We are in the heart of South Lincolnshire’s farming landscape approaching the interestingly named hamlet of Cowbit, midway along the old main road between Crowland and Spalding.

The road bends gently along a raised bank, originally built to stave off flooding from the plain of the nearby River Welland, and the lights cut through the night like harbour beacons around a vast concave seashore.

Tonight, I notice that the familiar curve of orange-glowing street lights - picking out the homeward route ahead against the flat Fenland horizon - have been replaced by the cool and dazzlingly bright light of modern LED technology.

Definitely cheaper to run - and therefore more energy efficient - these lights are an increasing part of our night-time scenery up and down the country.

But after five miles of driving along dark, unlit roads the clinical brilliance comes as a shock to night-adjusted eyes.

All this is part of local authority plans - in this case Lincolnshire County Council - to replace and update all our traditional street and road lighting over the coming years.

Energy and cost savings aside, the new kind of lighting is defined by its brightness and intensity, like spotlights on a West End stage show. But at least there is less apparent spillage into the heavens above.

LED luminance is potentially much more controllable than traditional sodium light and so one might reasonably ask the question of our lighting engineers - is it necessary (and even safe for approaching motorists) to have these beams on full luminance at the point where we suddenly cross from dark to light?

There are increasing complaints from across the country where such shiny new lights - installed in normal streets and cul-de-sacs - have cut through curtained windows to illuminate living and sleeping spaces, playing havoc for those in the vicinity.

Bright is not always best for human health and there is obviously a need for more research into the potential risks from the glare of LED lighting.

Already it is well documented that exposure to LED light suppresses melatonin production by up to five times more than exposure to sodium-based light, disrupting our biological clocks and affecting sleeping and rest periods.

Recent research in Spain has indicated that long-term exposure to LED street lighting could, as a result of the high levels of blue band radiation, cause irreparable harm to the retina of the human eye.

And last year a report by the French government stated that a luminance level higher than 10,000 cd/m2 causes visual discomfort whatever the position of the lighting unit in the field of vision.

As the emission surfaces of LEDs are highly-concentrated point sources the luminance of each individual source can be 1000 times higher than discomfort levels, making this intense glare a tangible problem.

Which brings me to reflect on the familiar orange, phosphorescent glow that has been part of our night time scene for so long.

Despite its intrusion, particularly into the night sky above, will we come to rue the day of its disappearance?

At the ending of DH Lawrence’s ‘Sons and Lovers’ the book’s central character Paul Morel is drawn ‘towards the city's gold phosphorescence’.

Signifying corruption and decay, ‘phosphorescence' was to become one of Lawrence’s jargon words in subsequent novels.

‘But no, he would not give in. Turning sharply, he walked towards the city's gold phosphorescence. His fists were shut, his mouth set fast. He would not take that direction, to the darkness... He walked towards the faintly humming, glowing town, quickly.’

For Paul Morel, the ending was something of a false epiphany. That 'gold phosphorescence' was an emanation of the mechanised life of the industrialised world - the glow of false promise.

In the end Paul’s tragedy was that he was only able to move in the direction of the city, humming not with the natural activity of a hive, but with machinery, and glowing not with sunshine and warmth but with the ghastly phosphorescence of street lamps and decay.

That familiar orange glow in our night-time skies does indeed represent something of the past, industrial age - whereas the clinical, white light of LEDs is symbolic of the modern, sanitised world.

Our continued attempts to tame and banish the natural darkness and rhythms of life only serve to deepen the shadows around us. What, I wonder, would Lawrence have made of this?

The Lighthouse Keeper is written by Clive Simpson - for more information, commission enquiries or to re-publish any of his articles click here for contact information

The End of Night

The bright lights of Europe spilling into the night as seen from the Space Station.

Night is no longer as dark as it used to be. Street lamps, neon signs, ‘security' lights and the rest all contribute to an ever-present glow that has transformed the natural world and turned modern life into a wash of artificial light.

It is a theme the Lighthouse Keeper has looked at in several blog essays this autumn, partly inspired by one of this summer's best-selling books ‘The End of Night', written by US-based journalist Paul Bogard.

Light pollution around the world has expanded exponentially in recent decades and now it is reckoned that the vast majority people across Western Europe and the United States no longer experience a truly dark night.

Night's natural darkness is invaluable for our spiritual health and the health of the natural world and as a consequence every living creature, including ourselves, suffers from its loss.

Like the advancement of technology it is one of those things that changes subtly against the backdrop of busy lives – and almost without noticing we become accustomed to a new ‘normal'.
 

The Bortle scale, which classifies the darkness of skies from point of view of an astronomer, 
was originally published in Sky & Telescope magazine in 2001 and is an apt illustration for Bogard’s theme.

 
In his book, Bogard investigates the meaning of darkness and travels to some of the world's intensely lit cities - from Paris, the ‘city of light' to glittering Las Vegas and to still gas-lit streets of London's Westminster district, meeting an inimitable range of characters along the way.

Bogard contrasts the skies above our cities and urban populations to some of the most remote and darkest places on the globe, like the great national parks in America and the Island of Sark off the British coast.

He discusses how light is negatively affecting the natural world, how our well-being is significantly influenced by darkness or its lack, and how it's not a matter of using light at night or not, but rather when and where, how and how much.

Travelling the world looking for dark skies, Bogard considers our affinity for artificial light, the false sense of security it provides, and its implications.

He covers such broadly diverse issues as the health impacts of working the night-shift to the persecution of bats, and urges the reader to weigh the ramifications of light pollution and our failure to address them.  

The growth of light piollution across the United States, including
a projection for the year 2025.

 
"We think that because of television, the internet, or jet travel we see a lot of the planet," says Bogard.

"But the only chance we really have to retain our sense of the scale in the real universe is by looking at the night sky."

As we approach the winter solstice when the dark nights of the northern hemisphere reach their longest, what better time to delve into such a book?

Bogard's evocation of the night blends environmental and cultural history to make reading about light pollution a surprising pleasure.

By reclaiming the night we stand only to gain. Not least in decreased energy costs and redressing the balance of life but also in that other fast-disappearing phenomenon - wonder.

Bogard draws attention to the naturally dark night as a landscape in its own right - a separate, incredibly valuable environment that we overlook and destroy at our own peril.

‘The End of Night’ by Paul Bogard
is published by Fourth Estate and
is available at your local bookshop
or from Amazon.

Blinded by the night

Winter sunset over the Solent from Portsdown Hill - Clive Simpson

It is hardly surprising to learn that in our modern, consumer-driven culture we are using far more light during the hours of darkness than we actually need.

But what is not generally recognised in our liberal use of illumination is the mounting cost to both the environment and ourselves.

An increasing number of scientific studies are questioning the long-held premise that humans are largely immune to the effects of artificial light at night.

And our own eyes, if only we opened them long enough in a metaphorical sense to see the bigger picture, would surely agree.

Research indicates that artificial nocturnal light - even in quite small doses - disrupts sleep, confuses circadian rhythms and impedes the production of the hormone melatonin.

All of which is bad news if the consequences of excessive exposure to light at night really do include an increased risk for obesity, diabetes and cardiovascular disease.

Technological advances such as LEDs (light-emitting diodes) have certainly improved the potential for better targeted lighting - but they are often brighter and more intrusive than the old lights they are replacing.

And much more of this modern light - whether from TVs, computer screens and electronic gadgets or from outdoor lighting of one form or another - is rich with blue wavelengths and most disruptive to the 24 hour biological process that regulates the body's functions.

In effect, blue light sends subtle messages to our brain that night is over – or in a basic, primal way that morning's blue sky has returned and that the day has begun - quite the opposite signal we need in the middle of the night.

Two years ago the American Medical Association (AMA) called for increased research into the risks and benefits of occupational and environmental exposure to artificial light at night and for the introduction of new lighting technologies at home and at work that minimise circadian disruption.

According to Prof Martin Morgan Taylor, of the School of Law, De Montfort University, Leicester, and a Legal Advisor (Lighting) to the UK Campaign for Dark Skies, the physiological effects caused by lighting may be similar to noise.

In his paper ‘Light Pollution and Nuisance: The Enforcement Guidance for Light as a Statutory Nuisance' he says: "Admittedly, there are comparatively few studies as yet on the problems caused by lighting, but lights can and do wake people up, as does noise.

"Moreover, with noise it appears that the subject does not need to be fully awakened to suffer the same negative effects as someone who has been deprived of sleep altogether."

As a result, people's health could be adversely affected by the floodlighting and what the Chartered Institute of Environmental Health (CIEH) refers to as ‘light briefly turning on and off' during the night.

Prof Morgan Taylor states the research concerning cancer risks does not restrict itself to lighting that wakes the subject but the risk factor is akin to the level of night-time light entering the bedroom.

"The glare from overly bright lighting can also cause further problems, for although the iris may contract to cut down the amount of light entering the eye, the scale of the glare from floodlighting can cause momentary blindness and pain," he says. "This is particularly an issue for the elderly, as the muscles controlling the iris do tend to become less efficient with age."

On a personal level, while we seldom leave our interior lights bare, most of our outdoor lighting remains unshielded – indiscriminately sending light straight into the sky, into our eyes, and into our neighbours' bedrooms.

The relatively simple act of adjusting or shielding outdoor lights by installing or retrofitting lamp fixtures that direct light downward to its intended target represents our best chance to control light pollution.

The generic objection to this - based on the premise that light equals protection and darkness represents danger - is that we need all this light for safety and security.

This common belief goes a long way to explain why many supermarkets, petrol station forecourts and car parks as well as our own driveways and yards are lit more than ten times as brightly as they were just 20 years ago.

In fact, the issue of light at night and safety is rather more complex, with little compelling evidence to support widespread assumptions.

For example, ever-brighter lights can actually diminish security by casting glare that impedes vision and creates shadows where criminals can hide.

The ‘World Atlas of the Artificial Night Sky Brightness', a series of computer-generated maps from satellite data that depict the extent of light pollution across the globe, were created by Italian astronomer Fabio Falchi and illustrate the point nicely.

Today, or to be correct, tonight, we have levels of light hundreds and thousands of times higher than the natural night time level – and light pollution is currently rising by an average of 20 per cent a year.

So this evening, before you flood the yard or your front drive with brilliant light, consider for a moment the opposite side of the day. Would we tolerate, with the same kind of indifference, attempts to modify the daytime by lowering light levels a hundred or a thousand times?

------------------------------------
If you enjoyed this Lighthouse Keeper essay by Clive Simpson looking at the impact of artificial light at night in our modern world please recommend or Tweet the link - Blinded by the night. The title is derived from ‘Blinded by the Light', a song written and originally recorded by Bruce Springsteen and widely known through the 1976 chart-topping version recorded by Manfred Mann's Earth Band.

Let there be light

The Milky Way strode across the sky, a band of faint light spanning almost from horizon to horizon. In the distance, lights sparkled like ships on a dark ocean. Such a dark sky with a myriad twinkling stars is a sight that is becoming all too rare - or even beyond the experience of many.

This is the heart of the Fens at night. A natural planetarium with glorious low horizons in every direction and a pitch dark sky, just far enough from the sodium city lights of Peterborough and the market towns of Stamford and Spalding.

Indeed, this part of South Lincolnshire, an industrial farming and food-producing landscape by day, is by night one of Britain’s dwindling exceptions to our light-polluted lives.

According to the Council for the Protection of Rural England (CPRE), places with the ‘purest’ night-time darkness are (perhaps by definition) among the least populated in the country.

Dartmoor, Exmoor and the Quantock Hills in the south west; Salisbury Plain and the top of the Chilterns in southern England; parts of Lincolnshire to the east; the Black Mountains and the Brecons in Wales; the Yorkshire moors and some of Northumberland; plus large swathes of Scotland, outside major cities and the Borders.

Early this year Sark – the smallest of the four Channel Islands at just a couple of square miles – became the world's first officially-designated ‘Dark Sky Island’.

The US-based International Dark-Sky Association measured Sark's night-time illumination levels and assessed the degree of visibility of constellations in the night sky. And to assist Sark's claim, one of its government officers visited every outside light on the island and recommended measures to cut artificial light seeping into the sky.

Sark is not Britain's only dark success. In 2009 Galloway Forest in Scotland was designated Europe's first ‘Dark Sky Park’. As a result visitor numbers are booming, a new observatory is planned for the edge of the forest and neighbouring local councils have introduced restrictions on outside lighting to preserve the quality of darkness.

The Inner Hebrides’ island of Coll, 13 miles long and three miles wide with two main roads and a small airport, is another dark spot with no security lights on homes, or traffic or street lights.

Much closer to home, the Rutland village of Market Overton recently reduced its light pollution by replacing its old sodium street lights with modern light-emitting diode lamps. Its 39 lamps cost over £20,000 in total to convert but immediately produced an 80 per cent saving in electricity.

These locations, however, remain the exceptions to the light-polluted rule. And they are getting rarer thanks to what the Campaign for Dark Skies describes as ‘wasteful’ over-provision of domestic lighting by British householders.

CPRE has, for several years, urged government action to limit light pollution from street lamps, overnight illumination of shopping centres, office blocks and public buildings, stark upward lighting from floodlit sports complexes and, at the household level, outdoor lights that are unnecessarily bright or disperse their illumination. Of course it would also save a lot of money and energy too – Britain's street lamps alone cost an estimated £500 million a year to run.

The most common forms of such pollution are ‘light trespass’ when illumination from Britain's 22 million homes and 7.5 million street lights, even if designed with the intention of shining downwards, typically also extends upwards. You can see it in this picture of the UK at night as seen by astronauts passing overhead aboard the International Space Station.

Two other common forms are ‘sky glow’ – that orange glow visible for tens of miles around towns and cities easily seen from the air or from distant roads – and ‘glare’, the harsh white light on some modern housing estates and golf driving ranges at night.

As October marches onwards, here in the northern hemisphere we are plunging headlong into days of less daylight, longer nights and the clocks going back – all marking the onset of winter. And, while we say we prefer it lighter for longer, in reality most of us only now experience a limited degree of darkness.

Modern electricity's triumph over the night keeps us all busier. We live in a fast-moving, fully lit world where night still happens but is more of an optional experience – a kind of failed daylight. Our 24/7 supermarket culture has done it’s best to phase out the night.

Yet slowness and silence – the different rhythm of the night – are a necessary correction to the day. Life is too short to be all daylight. Moments of life take on a different quality at night-time, where the moon reflects the light of the sun and we have time to reflect what life is to us. So why not turn down the lights and rest awhile? Night is not less – it's more.

 

The Lighthouse Keeper is written by Clive Simpson - for more information, commission enquiries or to re-publish any of his articles click here for contact details