Dear Editor,

I am writing to express my profound concern regarding recent coverage of the Labour government’s reported plans to make Britain’s countryside “less white.” Having read this article carefully, I find myself troubled not only by the proposals themselves but also by what they reveal about the current direction of cultural policy in rural England.

According to the reporting, the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (Defra) has been coordinating closely with authorities managing some of our most cherished protected landscapes, including the Chilterns, the Cotswolds, and the Malvern Hills. Internal strategy documents, it is claimed, describe rural England as a “white environment” dominated by the “white middle class.” The same documents allegedly argue that without urgent intervention, these rural areas risk becoming “irrelevant” in an increasingly multicultural society.

This framing alone is striking, as it seems to suggest that a landscape’s relevance is determined not by its natural beauty, ecological value, or historical significance, but purely by the demographic profile of its visitors.

Under the proposed plans, landscape authorities have committed to a range of measures. Marketing materials will be redesigned to feature more ethnic minority visitors enjoying outdoor activities. Information will be translated and produced in multiple “community languages.” Diversity targets will be imposed. Recruitment drives will seek to change the composition of staff who manage these areas. In the Chilterns, officials have already developed specific engagement schemes aimed at Muslim communities in nearby Luton, a city with a significant Asian population. Other protected landscapes are reviewing their facilities to ensure they better reflect Britain’s “multicultural reality.”

The research underpinning these proposals is equally noteworthy. A 2019 review overseen by author Julian Glover, followed by a £108,000 study published in 2022, warned that many first-generation immigrants see protected landscapes as spaces designed exclusively for white, middle-class people and therefore feel unwelcome. Traditional rural pubs were singled out as a particular problem. Researchers found that Muslims from Pakistani and Bangladeshi backgrounds said pubs — associated with alcohol and limited halal food options — contributed to a feeling of exclusion when visiting the countryside. Other recommendations suggest that dogs should be kept under stricter control, citing fears of these animals among some communities. Another finding claims that while “white English” visitors value solitude and quiet contemplation, ethnic minority visitors tend to prefer social or group activities.

The Malvern Hills National Landscape management team has gone further, stating that many minority families “have no connection to nature in the UK” because previous generations “did not feel safe enough” to visit or had other “survival preoccupations.” Nearly identical language appears across management plans nationwide.

Now, let me pause here to make something absolutely clear. I am not opposed to making the countryside more welcoming. I have lived in rural Gloucestershire for over thirty years, and I have watched with pleasure as our villages and footpaths have gradually become more diverse. I have no desire to exclude anyone from experiencing the beauty of our woodlands, valleys, and hilltops. No reasonable person would object to translating information into other languages or ensuring that facilities are accessible to all. These are simple acts of courtesy which Britons enjoy abroad, and I support them, within reason, wholeheartedly.

However, what is being proposed here appears to go far beyond courtesy. It looks, to my eyes, like a form of social engineering. We are being asked to recast centuries-old landscapes, traditional village pubs, beloved countryside customs, and even the presence of dogs as problems to be corrected in the name of diversity. We are told that solitude and quiet contemplation — values that have drawn countless people to the countryside for generations — are somehow less valid than group-oriented activities. We are informed that our rural pubs, which have served as community hubs for hundreds of years, are barriers to be managed rather than institutions to be celebrated and shared.

This approach risks achieving the opposite of its stated intentions. By framing traditional rural culture as an obstacle, the government may well alienate the very people who have preserved these landscapes for generations: farmers, local residents, ramblers, pub landlords, and countryside lovers of all backgrounds. Moreover, I worry that such heavy-handed intervention will breed resentment rather than inclusion. You cannot mandate love for a landscape through diversity targets and outreach quotas. You cannot order someone to feel welcome by redesigning a brochure. True inclusion grows slowly, through personal invitation, shared experience, and the quiet realisation that a place belongs to everyone who cares for it.

Defra insists these plans are about access rather than ideology. A spokesman was quoted as saying the government wants to support people engaging with nature “in their own ways” and ensure publicly funded landscapes are open to everyone. On paper, that sounds reasonable. But in practice, when internal documents describe rural England as a “white environment” in need of correction, when traditional behaviours are singled out for modification, it becomes very difficult to see this as anything other than an ideological project.

I grew up walking these hills. I have picnicked in the Cotswolds, hiked the Malverns, and spent countless afternoons in quiet country pubs with my family. I want nothing more than for others — of every background, faith, and ethnicity — to come to love these places as I do. But love cannot be forced. It cannot be engineered through government diktat. It emerges naturally when people are invited, welcomed, and left to discover a place’s beauty on their own terms.

My fear is that these well-intentioned but misguided proposals will do more harm than good. They risk turning our countryside into a battleground of identity politics rather than a refuge of peace and natural beauty. They risk replacing genuine hospitality with bureaucratic box-ticking. And they risk alienating the very communities — both traditional rural residents and potential new visitors — that they claim to serve.

I would urge the government to reconsider its approach. Instead of remaking the countryside in the image of a diversity target sheet, invest in simple, practical measures: better public transport to rural areas, more affordable accommodation, outreach through schools and community groups, and genuine dialogue with both existing residents and minority communities. These steps would cost less, cause less resentment, and achieve far more lasting results.

Until then, I remain deeply sceptical. And I suspect I am not alone.

Yours faithfully,

Margaret Hollis
Stow-on-the-Wold, Gloucestershire