Is it time to give our ancient trees the same protection as Stonehenge?
On its website alongside its menu, Toby Carvery offers customers some advice on the intricacies of cutting. In a section entitled 'A Few Words on Carving', a long sharp, serrated blade is recommended in order to make the most precise cut, as well as using the entire length of the knife.
One presumes the tree contractors employed by the branch of the restaurant chain in Enfield, north London, did not pay similarly careful consideration when lopping down a 450-year-old ancient oak overlooking its car park. Instead, there has been an act of ecological vandalism which has provoked similar national outrage to 2023's felling of the Sycamore Gap tree.
The loss of the Toby Carvery oak, campaigners say, is perhaps even more disastrous compared to the 150-year-old Sycamore Gap tree, due to the vast array of species which such veteran trees support. A single ancient oak can harbour up to 2,300 species, meaning that an entire ecosystem has now been chainsawed into oblivion. That, and as pointed out by the writer Robert Macfarlane, this was a tree that pre-dated the Gunpowder Plot.
But it is also a case which highlights the lack of protection currently afforded to Britain's cherished ancient trees, and raises the question whether, to ensure their survival, these totems of the landscape should now be granted the equivalent legal rights to scheduled ancient monuments such as Stonehenge.
There is a bitter irony in the fact that the only 'listed' tree in the UK, meaning it is granted the same protection as heritage buildings, is already dead. The Grade-II listed stump of the Elfin Oak, which stands in Kensington Gardens, was carved with elves, fairies and woodland animals in the late 1920s by the artist Ivor Innes and is protected for its cultural value.
Otherwise, unless covered by a Tree Preservation Order (TPO) granted by a local authority or growing in a designated site such as a conservation area or nature reserve, Britain's ancient trees have no legal protection at all.
While the Sycamore Gap tree was felled without permission, Mitchells and Butlers (the company which owns Toby Carvery) believed it had a legal right to fell the tree as it stood on land leased from Enfield Council and was not covered with a TPO. In a statement, the firm said it commissioned 'specialist arboriculturist contractors' who advised that the tree posed a potential health and safety risk and so the decision was made to cut it down.
In response, Ergin Erbil, the leader of Enfield council, said on Wednesday that he was 'outraged the leaseholder has cut down this beautiful ancient oak tree without seeking any permissions or advice from Enfield council' and the local authority would be pursuing 'appropriate legal action'. The tree has been valued at £1 million, £300,000 more than the Sycamore Gap tree.
Legal experts have said the owners of the Toby Carvery could be forced to pay for the value of the tree under the Cavat (Capital Asset Value for Amenity Trees) system, if it is proven that they failed to take appropriate action before felling it.
Under the current system, even existing tree preservation orders can also still be overruled. The Cubbington Pear, for example, a 250-year old specimen once voted English Tree of the Year, was felled in 2020 to make way for HS2.
Meanwhile, the Darwin Oak, a 550-year-old specimen near Charles Darwin's childhood home which was shortlisted in the 2024 Tree of the Year contest, remains under threat from a proposed Shrewsbury bypass. Despite requests from campaigners to grant a TPO, Shropshire Council says this would still not protect it from being felled under the proposed scheme.
Catherine Nuttgens, an independent urban forester, says the current system creates significant grey areas which leaves ancient trees at risk. She makes the point that it would be theoretically possible to grant listed status to the wrought iron props underneath the famous Major Oak in Sherwood Forest, but not the 1,000-year-old tree itself which they are designed to protect.
Often, as was apparently the case with the Toby Carvery oak, these inadequate legal protections can result in tree surgeons becoming judge, jury and executioner (a role which some are unqualified to carry out). 'Any trained arboriculturist knows about ancient trees,' says Nuttgens, who previously worked as a local authority tree officer and community forestry manager. 'Clearly whoever did this was not a tree expert, maybe a chainsaw expert instead?'
Liam McGough, who runs the north London-based Liam McGough Tree Services, agrees that greater legal protections should be afforded to ancient and veteran trees. The 40-year-old trained as a tree surgeon aged 16 and later worked on the Duke of Northumberland's estate before setting up his own business. He is a professional member of The Arboricultural Association, which acknowledges best practice, and alongside his business works with local authorities advising on tree protection.
The problem, he says, is that 'anybody can buy a chainsaw and call themselves a tree surgeon'. Despite established guidance on tree maintenance, there remain few legal requirements placed on those in the industry beyond basic health and safety rules. 'The term is so loosely used there are people walking around with shorts and trainers going and knocking on people's doors and asking if they want their trees cut,' says McGough.
While he insists his firm will always make an application to seek approval from a specific local authority when managing any urban trees, many others in the profession do not. 'There are thousands upon thousands of trees that are being cut without permission,' McGough says.
He has studied photographs of the remains of the Toby Carvery oak (whose stump is still standing after being belatedly granted a Tree Preservation Order by Enfield Council in the hope it will grow back) and says the condition of the wood demonstrates there was no need for the tree to be felled. 'It makes me angry,' he says. 'It's a huge loss to the area.'
There are in excess of 190,000 trees logged on the UK's Ancient Tree Inventory, which maps the oldest specimens in the country. As well as hosting an abundance of life, these ancient trees are also of vital cultural importance; acting as repositories of the nation's history and emblems of our national identity.
In 2023, for example, a more than 1,000-year-old yew tree was felled on private land near Battle in east Sussex. The tree was located just a mile from Senlac Hill (which is regarded as the site of the Battle of Hastings) meaning it would have bore witness to the Norman invasion in 1066. It is estimated, meanwhile, that there are at least 500 churchyards in England which have yew trees older than the buildings themselves.
Oak trees, in particular, represent some of our most long-lived and cherished species. After all, Britain is home to more ancient oaks than the rest of Europe combined. The trees were revered as far back as the ancient druids, while the Magna Carta was written with ink produced by the oak marble gall wasp. Among numerous venerable examples include the 1,000-year-old Queen Elizabeth Oak, which sits in the grounds of Cowdray Park in Sussex, and in whose shade Elizabeth I supposedly rested during a royal hunting party in 1591.
Martin Hugi, a senior conservation adviser at the Woodland Trust, has worked as an ancient tree verifier over the past two decades. In 2023, he also undertook an 'ancient tree pilgrimage' from Land's End to John O'Groats. Using the ancient tree inventory as a guide, he walked 1,000 miles and visited 1,085 trees en route.
'From a cultural point of view, these organisms are probably the oldest entities that we will ever meet and that just deserves our respect in its own right,' he says. 'I think when a lot of people actually meet an ancient tree, then it puts them in their place.'
There is perhaps slow progress in granting greater legal protections for ancient trees. Public consultation is currently being sought on a new tree protection bill in Northern Ireland which would strengthen legal rights for their like, and woodland more generally, by introducing a heritage tree designation and improving enforcement.
But across the rest of Britain, no such moves are underway, meaning trees still remain under threat. The scene in the grounds of the Enfield Toby Carvery demonstrates the folly of further delay. A taped-off cordon reminiscent of a crime scene, and a stump where 450-years of history has been hacked away in an instant.
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