Building a world could begin with a small plan or an ambitious dream, and this will vary according to the builder – their background, their experience, and their vision of the world they wish to create. To me, building a world would imply designing systems that mimic natural ecosystems, and which emphasize resource efficiency, biodiversity, and community resilience. I do this by following the methodologies of permaculture.

What is permaculture? Well, if you were to ask any practitioner to summarize what permaculture actually is, you would likely be met with umms, ahhs, and plenty of long pauses for thought. It’s a slippery, elusive concept, one that can be applied in countless ways.

When studying for my Permaculture Design Certificate, my coursemates and I were given a broad definition—a phrase which went something along the lines of: “Designing more sustainable environments inspired by natural systems.” This is at least a good start, a clear soundbite that can be recycled for elevator pitches. But as the course went on, it became clear that permaculture is really a process. It is a design process, with simple steps that lead the designer towards the most logical solution to a problem, whilst incorporating certain ethics and principles. Hence the repeated refrain of our course teacher, uttered whenever one of us was looking puzzled or feeling lost: “Trust the process.”

At the heart of permaculture are the three ethics: Earth Care, People Care, and Fair Share. When designing anything using permaculture, whether it’s a garden, a home, or a community organisation, it must constantly refer to these core tenets. Does it care for the local (and wider) ecosystem? Does it look after the people involved? And does it share the abundance produced, whilst also adhering to natural limits? These are the primary concerns of any design.

Alongside these ethics are the principles of permaculture. There are multiple iterations of these principles, but the most common one is the 12 Design Principles articulated by David Holmgren, which are derived from Bill Mollison’s original and more numerous set. Again, these principles don’t provide an answer to anything; they are a framework that any design can be built around.

As such, the principles of permaculture can seem overly broad and ambiguous. But they’re designed to be. Each principle is open to interpretation and has multiple meanings, depending on the context in which it is used. One encourages the designer to “creatively use and respond to change.” Another to “integrate rather than segregate.” You will want to “obtain a yield” whilst “producing no waste.” And you are encouraged to “design from patterns to details.”

This final principle might be a first hint at the type of design process permaculture promotes. We are prompted to look at the big picture first, to observe the patterns in society and nature to pull together the structural scaffolding of a design, before filling in the details. Permaculture might then be called an “outside-in” approach to designing, since the process relies on close observation of, and interaction with, the real world—the place—in which the final design will be situated.

As an example, the Apricot Centre took over Huxhams Cross Farm in Dartington, Devon in 2015, by which time they had already carried out a thorough design process the previous year, before planting a single seed. They collaborated with the local community and community stakeholders to evaluate what the land and the local population might be asking of them. They even went so far as to enlist the help of local ramblers in mapping the site and observing natural flows of water, erosion, and wildlife.

This close observation of the landscape and local demands was factored into the Apricot Centre’s design process, but it didn’t dictate the outcome. Of equal import were the ethics and principles of permaculture, their dedication to Biodynamic farming methods, and the vision of each member of the design group. One central desire during this initial phase was to incorporate a well-being service for children and families into the farm, and this formed a key part of the final design. They also had a vision to train the next generation of farmers in ecological methods, and the Apricot Centre has now become a leading provider of education in the field of regenerative agriculture.

These facets of the organisation are not just attractive add-ons to a successful veg box scheme; they are integral to a resilient, diversified business. And they came about because of the ideas, the vision—the story—the team wanted to tell with their design for the farm. In this way, the Apricot Centre, and permaculture as a design methodology, could also be labelled as an “inside-out” approach, thanks to its focus on core beliefs (the ethics and principles) that drive the world-building process.

In fact, permaculture seems to bridge the gap between the two approaches. It simultaneously champions close observation and adherence to the real, “outside” world, whilst also keeping the fundamental ideologies—the inner framework—close at hand.

Perhaps my favourite of Holmgren’s design principles is the one suggesting we “use small and slow solutions.” This is, of course, anathema to the slogans and dogmas commonly used by businesses and activists alike. In our time of perpetual crisis, we are told to “save the world” and “think global.” We face planetary problems, after all, so surely the solutions must also be global in scale. But one person can’t change the world, and a reliance on big solutions leads us either to despair or a vague hope in unproven, and often dangerous, projects, usually led by egomaniacal billionaires.

In other words, there is nothing for us to actually do. No tangible action to take. We are doomed to cycle between abstract hope and crushing despair, rather than actually building a world for ourselves, whether it be a small vegetable patch or local tool library.

The design process of permaculture is one methodology that points us in the right direction. By their nature, permaculture designs are small, place-based, and ecologically bespoke. The idea is to act slowly, to really listen to the people and the place in question. Ideally, for land- based designs, the patch of land to be developed should be left for an entire year, to see how it changes with the seasons and to map the energies that flow through it. Of course, this might not be possible when starting a new business, but the intention does at least give us an idea of the pace of work we should be aspiring towards.

Despite the slower pace, permaculture projects can still be ambitious, not to mention efficient. Take Martin Crawford’s Forest Garden, just down the road from the Apricot Centre in Dartington. Using only two acres, it manages to incorporate trees, shrubs, and perennial plants to create an agronomic system that mimics a natural forest ecosystem, whilst also growing substantial yields of fruit, nuts, edible leaves, medicinal plants, craft materials and more. It is a pioneering project and serves as an example for how we might produce food and materials in a more ecological way.

There is also Landmatters Co-operative, a permaculture community in the south-west of England, which demonstrates how a group of people can live off-grid with minimal impact on the land. It first formed in 2002, using permaculture design methods and consensus decision-making to establish systems for growing food, communal transport, renewable energy, and composting waste. It is still thriving today, having finally been granted permanent planning permission for eight dwellings in 2016.

These tangible examples of permaculture in action contrast sharply with the empty promises of governments and large corporations to tackle the various crises we face. Of course, permaculture is only one approach among many which can make positive change, but its versatility is striking. Not only can it harmonise different approaches to world- building, such as the inside-out/outside-in dichotomy, but it can also be applied to any kind of project, be it land-based, architectural, organizational, or personal.

Given a cursory glance, it might seem vague and prohibitively niche, merely the realm of hippies with their herb spirals. But permaculture turns out to be a rigorous methodology, based on observation and analysis at every stage, as any design process should be. When its various tools are put into action, alongside the guiding ethics and principles, what you find is a marriage between the nitty-gritty analysis of entrepreneurs and the bold visions of activists—a mysterious combination of efficiency and ecology. Now, more than ever, is a time when we need the builders and the dreamers to realise their commonalities and work together, so we can face what is to come.