It is after midnight in Victoria Park, and in eerie silence, human-powered vehicles speed around a convoluted circuit. The scene is one of cool efficiency until I clamber into a bullet-shaped HPV, miss the toe clips, mow down some orange divider cones, and whoosh haplessly into the night. Mastering the technique out of desperation, I gradually fall into the groove, weaving in and out of a surreal traffic.
This is the annual 24-hour Pedal Kart Grand Prix charity race, now in its 18th year in Hong Kong, and participants range from the serious to the symbolic. Human-powered vehicles are not just adult toys, but represent an environmental statement in favour of carbon-light forms of transport. The two power utilities, CLP Power and Hong Kong Electric, enter karts in the form of a baby buggy, labelled 'Power for Life', and a gumdrop-shaped model of Hong Kong Island, with a miniature wind turbine slowly turning in the breeze. The winning team is from Hong Kong Aero Engine Services, in a kart that seems ready to take off. Our team, Shirley's Angels, from the Royal Hong Kong Yacht Club, takes the women's cup in a vehicle designed by a nautical engineer.
From the viewpoint of the global green movement, such events serve two purposes. One objective is propaganda, to attract attention. The other is real, to do something, however small, to relieve the carbon load that is making human life on the planet unsustainable.
According to Mathis Wackernagel, executive director of the Global Footprint Network, man's 'ecological footprint' has grown by 2.5 times since 1961 and now exceeds biological capacity by 20 per cent, mostly as a factor of the amount of biosphere required to absorb human-generated carbon dioxide emissions. Import-based societies such as Hong Kong create carbon surpluses, not only locally, but through myriad inputs of energy up and down the supply chain. 'The economy is like a cow - everything that goes in must come out,' said Mr Wackernagel, and the only solution is to consume less. Hong Kong's ecological footprint is unknown, although we can easily guess that it is large. The data that Mr Wackernagel uses for his calculations comes from the United Nations, and since 1997 Hong Kong's information has been assimilated into that of China. He argues that Hong Kong needs the 'science of sustainability' to identify the best strategies to reduce consumption and to serve as an icon for the rest of Asia.
Although the concept of the ecological footprint is convincing, we need to take such advice in perspective. Sustainability is at least as much common sense as it is a science, with a lineage that has deep roots in many cultures. In China, during the Warring States period 2,500 years ago, the philosopher Mencius told the King of Hui that he needed to manage resources wisely to succeed. Fishing nets should have holes large enough to let the hatchlings swim back into the streams and lakes. There should be no clear cutting of forests, and agriculture should come before politics. Mencius may not have been an economist, but he understood the organic relationship between self-restraint and growth. Building up an ecological savings account is hardly useful without a plan to put those savings to work.
Unless Hong Kong turns back into a fishing village, it will never consume less than its biological capacity, and green philosophies need to be coupled with the promise of economic gain. Threats of ecological doom are not enough, nor are kart enthusiasts sweating through the night. We need a meeting of minds to say that Hong Kong's growth depends on sophisticated management of all its assets, starting with those that have been most neglected - its extraordinary scenery, rich history and creative capital.
