Marram. This is a new word to me, thanks to Sarah Moss, in her rather excellent 2018 work Ghost Wall.
According to Wikipedia…
Ammophila (synonymous with Psamma P. Beauv.) is a genus of flowering plants consisting of two or three very similar species of grasses. The common names for these grasses include marram grass, bent grass, and beachgrass.[2] These grasses are found almost exclusively on the first line of coastal sand dunes. Their extensive systems of creeping underground stems or rhizomes allow them to thrive under conditions of shifting sands and high winds, and to help stabilize and prevent coastal erosion.
Why do I bring it up? Because I am sick to death of the unthinking use of the term “grassroots” as if all you need is a few random individuals and groupuscules who will turn up to each others’ meetings and rallies and bish-bosh you’re half way to the New Glorious Revolution.
So many people get blown away in the wind, lost to burnout or a newer sexier thing, nothing to connect them, to “fix” them (I should probably do something about nitrogen fixation at some point, I guess).
But who is to be the marram grass? What skills and personality traits does that involve? How do those people act as Vygotskian scaffolding, rather than as a Venus Flytrap, gobbling up attention and people to create a personality cult? Buggered if I know (I have some ideas, but, well, they haven’t worked so well in practice.)
Anyhoo, this puts me in mind of the wonderful Nevil Shute novel Pastoral, and this quote about a Wing Commander of an RAF bomber base in 1943, with one of his most experienced and indeed ‘keystone’ crews underperforming.
He had among his crews a few old stagers that formed a solid backbone of experience at Hartley. However many raw and callow young men came to him, so long as he had Lines and Johnson and Marshall and Davy, and Sergeant Pilot Nutter and Sergeant Pilot Cope, he felt that the wing could play its part’ the youngsters would learn from these men and absorb their knowledge imperceptibly. The casualties were all among the newcomers from operational training schools. Nothing, it seemed, could really help these raw young men but to rub shoulders every day with the seasoned veterans of many raids. The loss of one such veteran crew was a very serious matter indeed to Wing Commander Dobbie, to be prevented at all costs. Those men were worth their weight in gold. (Shute, 1944: 115)
marchudson.net 
Marc, I have lived long enough to notice the change, mostly due I believe to the media and electronic communications. We are continually bombarded with NEW facts/fantasies, every day our world is coming to an end, add to this a short retention span and you have the answer.
Hi Marc,
Reminds me of a happy week, many moons ago, planting Marram Grass on the Southport dunes. Much of Southport is below sea level, at high tide, so the dunes need to be stabilised. This is not just good for the people of Southport but also good for the wildlife, like Natterjack Toads, that need the dune slacks to survive.
Cheers, Ian Brown
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