UK political storm gathering force

The floods in the west of England could open up debate on ways to fight wild weather. Photo/AP

As the west of England sinks beneath the heaviest rainfall since records began, the struggle to get relief to those who have lost their homes and livelihoods is more than matched by the efforts to find scapegoats and shift blame.

In Britain, of course, it has always been mandatory to talk about the weather - but the nature of the conversations has been transformed.

"A rough day," one countryman might have said to another before the storms.

"And likely to be better/worse /the same tomorrow," would have come the reply.

They would then have retreated to the pub to repeat their points, with minor variations and in slightly different language, over successive pints. Now, of course, it is rather different.

"The worst weather I've seen since 1702," might say No1, modestly not claiming to have actually met Noah. "It's the inevitable consequence of greenhouse gases."

"If only they hadn't stopped dredging the rivers," puts in No2. "The water would have run off the land."

"The real problem is the loss of the European beaver ," laments a third (and, yes, this view really does have its supporters). "Because beavers would have built dams to retain the headwaters in the streams."

So off they go to the pub, but this time to argue rancorously and to abuse those they believe are to blame.

With the next UK election only 15 months away, the blame-storming has inevitably become the stuff of political debate.

The Government ignored a warning to dredge in Somerset. A Conservative minister deflects the blame to the environmental agency on the grounds that it gave them advice and, better still, it is headed by a Labour peer.

The opposition blames government cuts.

Then there are other possible villains in the wings: the builders who built on a floodplain; the authorities who allowed the development; the international community which upset the weather by failing to limit carbon emissions; the factory owners; the forces of international capitalism; flatulent cows; the United States; Chinese fridges; and many others besides. Choose your own favourite.

But, beneath all the huff and puff, there is practical work to be done - the placing of sandbags; the reinforcing of embankments; the moving of goods and stock necessary to successful evacuation. All that needs boots on the ground and there have clearly not been enough of them.

One hundred years ago it was different. When, in 1892, the gauge of the 273km-long Great Western Railway had to be changed, the work was completed in two days by mobilising 5000 men, assembled by hiring the entire workforces of farms and businesses along the track.

They came with basic management structures already in place, ready to be incorporated into a well-organised army by the company's engineers.

You could not do that now. Outside the military, large manual workforces are rare and, although troops are helping, the army is already stretched by overseas commitments.

So how do you provide help when the waters rise, the hurricanes blow or the land erupts - things likely to happen more often as weather patterns change? One answer is to form a civil reserve whose members are paid a small amount to undergo a basic level of training and to be on call for public emergencies - a sort of territorial army without the fighting, as it were.

Another is to set up networks of volunteers. If the debate moves on to these topics rather than just focusing on who to blame, something useful might be salvaged from the wreckage.