
Ancient London oak hacked down by Toby Carvery owners could have lived ‘another few hundred years'
Reports were made to Enfield Council in London earlier this month after a 400-year-old oak tree on the edge of Whitewebbs Park, in the north of the capital, was felled. The tree was thought to be in the top 100 of London's 600,000 oak trees in terms of its size, and was believed to have 'more ecological value than the Sycamore Gap '.
Hospitality group Mitchells and Butlers, which operates the Whitewebbs House Toby Carvery on park land owned by the council, owned up to chopping down the ancient oak, saying they were advised by arboriculture experts that it caused a 'serious health and safety risk'.
Mitchells and Butlers said they had been told the tree was dead and cut the tree down as an 'important action to protect our employees and guests as well as the wider general public, to whom we have a duty of care.
"We took necessary measures to ensure any legal requirements were met. We are grateful to our specialist arboriculture contractors for warning us of this potential health and safety risk, allowing us to act swiftly to address it."
But Enfield Council leader Ergin Erbil said the ancient oak was not only alive, it could have lived 'for another few hundred years'.
'I completely oppose the argument from the leaseholder that this posed a health and safety risk,' Mr Erbil told the BBC.
In a statement to The Independent, Mr Erbil said that the council was seeking advice to take appropriate legal action against the hospitality group for violating the terms of their leasehold.
'I am outraged that the leaseholder has cut down this beautiful ancient oak tree without seeking any permissions or advice from Enfield Council,' he said.
'We have evidence that this tree was alive and starting to grow new spring leaves when this action was taken. Our team of experts checked the tree in December 2024 and found it was healthy and posed no risk to the neighbouring car park and its users.'
The police received a report of criminal damage to the tree on Saturday. After making enquiries, they found no evidence of criminality and closed their investigation on Tuesday, treating it as a civil matter.
Mr Erbil said: 'As the land owner we believe this action has broken the terms of the lease which requires Toby Carvery to maintain and protect the existing landscape. The tree was the oldest one on site and cutting it down seems to be a clear breach of this condition.
'This tree would have been home to countless wildlife, fungi, and pollinators. This tree is a part of our ecological and cultural heritage.
'We're therefore seeking advice and will take appropriate legal action. If any criminal activity is found during our investigation, we will not hesitate to report this to the police again.
'As the tree shows clear signs of life we will also do everything we can to help the tree regrow.'
Mitchells and Butlers CEO Phil Urban sent an open letter apologising for the anger and upset caused by the incident.
'As a business and more importantly as human beings we are obliged to act on all health & safety issues where expert advice warns us of a direct risk to life or serious injury. The penalties, legally, financially and more importantly emotionally for failing to do that, when something subsequently happens, are too great to contemplate.'
'We cannot undo what has been done, and none of us will ever know whether the felling of this beautiful old tree has prevented a future tragedy', he said, adding that the company had tried to be 'good neighbours' by planting over 90,000 trees so far since 2022 along with its partners.
The company said it would complete a thorough review to ensure that in the future, 'exceptional situations are treated differently to the more regular health & safety issues that arise on a day-to-day basis.
Mr Urban then said that someone on social media had been claiming to be a Toby Carvery manager and using 'distasteful social media dialogue' surrounding the incident. He said the individual was not a Mitchells and Butlers employee and this was an example of social media trolling.
The felling of the tree has 'devastated' the local community, who told The Independent they feared what it might mean for the rest of the park.
Sean Wilkinson, who has lived in the area since 1980 and chairs Friends of Whitewebbs Park, called the felling 'an absolute piece of vandalism'.
He added: 'It was a disgrace and it's symbolic of the lack of care that's been put into the environment of this park.'
Vicky Gardner, who has lived in Enfield for 55 years, said she was 'devastated' by the felling of the tree.
'It's such a shame and it's I think it's so typical of the behaviour of some of these organisations', she said. 'They don't think about their actions, they don't think about the consequences, and I do wonder where they got their information from.'
Sue Barrett, an Enfield resident since 1990, was 'absolutely appalled' by what happened to the ancient oak.
'Any decent tree surgeon would have known you don't cut down trees like that. It's an oak tree and it's an ancient oak tree. Anybody worth their salt would know', she said. 'It wasn't doing anybody any harm. None whatsoever. It was a beautiful tree, and they preserved the stump. I think that's an insult, don't you?'
She said that the park had been a 'saviour' to the local community because it became a hub for people to meet together.

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Scotsman
02-08-2025
- Scotsman
Why the Sycamore Gap tree provoked such strong emotional reactions
Sign up to our daily newsletter – Regular news stories and round-ups from around Scotland direct to your inbox Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to The Scotsman, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... In September 2023, so many people were shocked when the famous Sycamore Gap tree, thriving in a dip along Hadrian's Wall, was deliberately cut down overnight. For many, the tree symbolised British resilience, heritage and an enduring history. The public response was swift and intense, with widespread outrage and grief over the loss of this cultural landmark. The two men convicted of felling the Sycamore Gap tree have been sentenced to four years and three months in prison. Meanwhile, the tree lives on thanks to an AI-generated alternate world in the film 28 Years Later. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad As a psychologist, I'm interested in what inspired such a strong reaction to the destruction of a single tree. One psychological explanation, known as 'terror management theory', suggests that the emotional response reflects deeper anxieties about death – and not just about this tree. The sycamore tree was one of the UK's most photographed and appeared in the 1991 Kevin Costner film Robin Hood: Prince Of Thieves (Picture: Jeff J Mitchell) | Getty Images Belief systems Terror management theory, developed by psychologists Sheldon Solomon, Jeff Greenberg and Tom Pyszczynski, builds on the work of cultural anthropologist Ernest Becker, author of the Pulitzer prize-winning The Denial of Death (1973). This book's central idea is simple yet profound. In it, Becker proposes that our awareness of mortality creates the potential for considerable existential anxiety. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad To manage this, we rely on cultural worldviews. These are our belief systems. These worldviews can be religious, secular, political or national. They all share a promise that life is meaningful and offer prescriptions for how we should live. When we live in accordance with our cultural values and standards – whether by being a good parent, a loyal citizen or following religious texts – we gain a sense of self-esteem and feel we are contributing to something enduring and significant. These worldviews also offer the promise of immortality. Some do so literally, as in religious faiths that promise life beyond death. Others offer symbolic immortality, through lasting achievements, family bloodlines, or the continuation of one's nation. By embedding ourselves in these worldviews, we gain a sense that some part of us will continue after we die. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Cultural symbols such as flags, religious icons, or even a tree can embody our core values and collective identity and are therefore treated with deep reverence. Throughout history, people have waged wars and shown intense emotional reactions to the desecration of such symbols (burning the American flag or the Qur'an, for example). The famous Sycamore Gap tree before it was cut down in a wanton act of vandalism (Picture: English Heritage/Heritage Images) | Getty Images The Sycamore Gap tree carried similar significance. As a centuries-old landmark, it came to represent Britain's heritage, strength and continuity. From the perspective of terror management theory, its felling may have stirred strong reactions because it reminded people that even the symbols we rely on for a sense of permanence can be suddenly lost. This sense of cultural loss is also echoed by other recent events, such as Brexit and the immigration crisis. A collective fear over the erosion of British values and traditions place questions about the loss of British identity at the centre of public consciousness. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Rooted in mortality Decades of psychological research support this theory's claims. One common method (a technique called 'mortality salience') involves making participants subtly aware of their mortality (control participants are not reminded of death). In studies carried out in the 1990s, researchers found that when the solution to a task required desecrating a cultural symbol, such as using an American flag to separate ink from a jar of sand, participants reminded of death took longer to complete the task and experienced greater apprehension. Hundreds of studies also show how being reminded of death can increase anger and hostility towards people who threaten or violate one's cultural values. One line of research examining reactions to those who commit moral transgressions may be particularly appropriate to this case. For instance, in one study, participants reminded of their own death were more likely to support harsher punishments for those who committed moral transgressions such as someone who destroyed an irreplaceable artefact (much like the cutting down of a tree). Other research has shown similar effects: participants (including judges!) when reminded of death gave out harsher penalties or sentencing for those who have committed a crime. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad You might question whether these effects truly reflect death anxiety or if they could be explained without invoking a desire for immortality. Research may provide compelling evidence. One study found that reminders of death increased support for harsher punishments for moral transgressors (replicating the study mentioned earlier). The afterlife effect However, when participants were first presented with evidence of an afterlife, the effect of death increasing harsher punishments disappeared. In other words, the promise that death is not the end appeared to provide a buffer from the anxiety that death arouses. The fall of the Sycamore Gap tree was more than a loss of natural beauty. It was, for many, a symbolic attack on permanence, on meaning, and on shared identity. Yet while such losses can stir outrage and calls for punishment, research also shows that when people endorse prosocial values like empathy, reminders of death can actually foster forgiveness towards those who commit moral transgressions. According to terror management theory, these responses are not just about anger, but about what it means to be human in the face of inevitable death. In this light, the tree's felling uprooted something sacred: a collective continuity that gives meaning to our brief lives. As we grieve its loss, perhaps we're also mourning something more elusive – the comforting illusion that some things might last forever. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad


The Guardian
18-07-2025
- The Guardian
The Guardian view on the cultural life of trees: we must protect our natural heritage
If the mindless felling of the Sycamore Gap tree has taught us anything, it is that there is no such thing as 'just a tree', as one of the perpetrators, Adam Carruthers, told the jury. 'It was almost as if someone had been murdered,' he said of the ensuing public outcry. For many it was. Animism runs deeply through our relationship with arboreal life. From Macbeth's prophetic Birnam Wood to the towering Ents in The Lord of the Rings, trees have long been personified in literature. And, from Constable's bucolic Suffolk to David Hockney's Yorkshire wold, they have helped shape Britain's artistic landscape. This cultural heritage is being celebrated by the Woodland Trust UK Tree of the Year 2025. The Sycamore Gap tree won in 2016. The shortlist, announced this week, brings together William Wordsworth and the Beatles, Virginia Woolf and Radiohead, all united by the trees they have helped put on the UK's cultural map. The Tree of Peace and Unity in County Antrim, where the Good Friday agreement was signed in 1998, also makes the list of 10 culturally remarkable trees. British history is written in its trees: the ancient Ankerwycke Yew at Runnymede, where Henry VIII is rumoured to have courted Anne Boleyn; the Royal Oak in Shropshire, which hid the future Charles II; and the Tolpuddle Martyrs Tree in Dorset. Like the rings in their trunks, over centuries trees become the keeper of stories. They also, of course, provide paper on which to read them. This is ingeniously encapsulated in The Future Library by the Scottish conceptual artist Katie Paterson. Starting with Margaret Atwood in 2014, each year a manuscript by a different novelist is buried in Oslo's Nordmarka forest. In 2114, 100 books will be published out of the 1,000 specially planted pine trees. In fairytales and crime fiction, forests signal danger, but they are also places of sanctuary and renewal, hence the ancient Japanese practice of shinrin-yoku or forest bathing. Peter Rabbit finds safety in a burrow at the bottom of a tree. They also promise adventure and character-building, as in Robin Hood and the ethos behind Scandinavian forest schools. We learn to anthropomorphise arboreal beings from an early age: Enid Blyton's Magic Faraway Tree and JK Rowling's Whomping Willow are characters in their own right. Trees have very human qualities: they can learn from past traumas, such as droughts, and they make good 'parents', allowing their seedlings just the right amount of sugar through their roots. But they cannot protect them from global heating and disease. New research has revealed that saplings in British woodlands have been dying at an alarming rate since 2000. As much as 70% of ancient woods in the UK have been lost or damaged in the last 100 years. After the destruction of the Sycamore Gap tree, and the 500-year old oak in Enfield near a Toby Carvery restaurant this year, the government has set out much-needed plans to give legal protection to older and culturally important trees in England. Our ancient woodlands are irreplaceable. We must protect them as they protect us. As Woodland Trust patron Judi Dench put it, our oldest trees 'are as much part of our heritage as any literature'. They should be cherished and celebrated. In the words of WH Auden: 'A culture is no better than its woods.'


The Herald Scotland
26-05-2025
- The Herald Scotland
The Argyle Street Gap – what does it say about Glasgow?
The site right on the corner, where the police station once stood, is a typical example. The station, an ugly concrete thing, was in use until 2018 but it was sold to developers who pulled it down and now plan to put up a six-storey block of flats, with 62 flats above and six retail units below. I've seen the designs and it's meh. Nothing about it reflects the look and feel of the city or is particularly Glasgow; it's the sort of building that could be anywhere and everywhere and is. But it gets worse, because at the front of the site is all that remains of the old hornbeam tree that once stood by the police station. There aren't a lot of trees in Anderston and Finnieston – this part of the Dear Green Place is not its greenest – but the hornbeam was one of the most noticeable and finest survivors. The best estimate is that it and me were about the same age (50 plus) and it did what trees do in cities: softened the edges, offered shade from the sun and shelter from the rain, and attracted the loyalty of the locals. If you doubt the loyalty we can feel to trees, remember the protests and arrests in Sheffield when the council started felling thousands of trees as part of its 'street improvement'. And remember Plymouth where there was opposition to the destruction of 100 trees in the city centre and the council sneaked in overnight and chopped them down anyway. And remember the horror and upset people felt when the Sycamore Gap tree on Hadrian's Wall was chain-sawed; that one was personal, that one really hurt. The reason we feel this way is that trees are often the only green in the place where we live and so start to take on a kind of personality. The Hadrian's Wall sycamore was one of the A-listers – star of posters, postcards and movies – which was why its destruction was particularly shocking, but the folk who live near the Finnieston hornbeam felt the same way about their tree. All that's left now though, after the developers cut it down the other day, is a stump and a gap on Argyle Street where it used to be – a gap that raises questions about what the city is doing to its trees. To be fair to the council, it has addressed the issue of trees to some extent and in 2024 adopted a strategy which aims to increase the number of trees in the city over the next ten years. They've also made a start here and there, planting some 20,000 trees including on the Cathkin Braes in Castlemilk, Tollcross Park and other places. The locations are good choices because we know it's the most deprived parts of the city that have the least trees and we know it's why we started to hear that most terrible of all newspaper cliches: leafy suburbs. Read more MARK SMITH The TV channel that saved us, and heralds the change to come Mark Smith: Eurovision 2025: the year they fixed their Israel problem But what's happened on Argyle Street, at the site of the old police station, highlights what else needs to change. I don't want to exaggerate the importance of one tree – it's outnumbered by all the others that have been planted in the city – but mature trees in particular matter. They help combat air pollution, they help reduce the impact of rain and floods, a real issue in Glasgow, and they help reduce the 'Urban Heat Island' effect: they cool the city down effectively. As the Finnieston hornbeam demonstrated, they also become part of the shape and feel of a community; we start to love them. But what tends to happen is that developers apply to cut down mature trees that are in their way and, as a sop, promise to plant saplings, which is exactly what's happened with the Finnieston development. The developers have said they might plant five saplings along Argyle Street but they've also said it's subject to agreement with the roads authority and final approval so I'll believe it when I see it. The saplings which developers plant also tend to be much smaller, easier-to-control species so even when they're fully grown, they are no replacement for much bigger, more mature trees. Why this happens is that mature trees are a pain in the butt for developers who just want to get their buildings up fast and cheap. The roots of mature trees can cause a problem with pipework and other infrastructure so it needs careful planning to build round them, which costs money. Easier and cheaper to chop the old trees down: problem solved and no extra cost. The tree before it was taken down (Image: Free) But Glasgow could learn a thing or two from Bristol for example where the planning policy directs that buildings should work around existing mature trees. A more enlightened planning policy would also require developers who've made the case for a tree to be removed to move it to another site, or allow time for cuttings to be taken. Some of the locals in Finnieston wanted to do this with their hornbeam, but it doesn't look like it happened. The developers and builders who are desperate to get rid of old trees should also think about this: yes, it might cost more and yes, mature trees will require more maintenance and attention. But retaining old trees can enhance the value of the end product. Basically, people will pay more to live in a pleasant place that's surrounded by mature trees. In other words, trees can boost your profit rather than dent it. It's all too late for the Finnieston hornbeam of course; all that's left of it is a stump in front of a pile of rubble. But there is still time for the council to look again at its tree strategy and consider not just new trees but the old ones too. There's nothing quite as sad, I think, as the sight of what's left of a tree that's taken 50, 100, or 150 years to grow. It's what made the destruction of the Hadrian's Wall sycamore so savage and so brutal, and on a corner of Argyle Street and Finnieston Street you can see and feel the same thing. Let's try and learn from it then. Let's try and do it differently next time.