Gove vs the wood-burning stove

When I first heard rumours that Michael Gove was planning to go round the country with his environmental Gestapo, ripping out our wood-burning stoves in order to heal the planet, greenwash conservatism and reduce an imaginary 36,000 deaths a year, I must admit that a small part of me felt ever so slightly relieved. Of all the desirable accessories that I’ve coveted in my life, I don’t think any has quite disappointed me as much as the wood-burning stove now staring at me accusingly as I sit at my desk.

It looks very handsome and room-furnishing, as cast-iron stoves do. And when it gets going, it really does pump out lots of heat. But there’s a reason, you eventually realise, why western civilisation graduated from such 18th-century technology to central heating. One is easy and convenient; the other, a massive pain in the arse.

Sure I totally get the theory of hygge. Yes, I find log-chopping delightfully therapeutic, and stacking my logs and kindling so that the ends form an even wall enormously satisfying. But just like making your own sour-dough bread — which I’ve also put on hold — these activities are really only suitable for two types of people: backwoods survivalists living totally off the grid; and chaps who recently sold their hedge funds and can now afford the immensely labour-intensive pursuit of living the simple life.

I’ve similar doubts about the Rayburn in my kitchen, which works on wood and coal. You’d think this would be cheaper than electric or oil-fired, but not in my experience. Perhaps it would be if you took delivery of huge piles of bog-standard coal. But not if you buy bags of those heat-intensive briquettes and you get your logs kiln-dried (as you pretty much have to do because any moisture will quickly ruin your oven and mean it requires expensive relining).