My work as an academic and photographer focuses on exploring the intersections of human experience – both psychological and sociological – especially of power and its consequences.
In 2018, a visit to RAF Upper Heyford profoundly moved me. The sheer scale of the site and the starkness of its decaying architecture revealed the immense investment—both human and material—that the military committed to the doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD). Walking through its deserted, crumbling spaces, I felt the weight of a world that once prepared meticulously for an unthinkable apocalypse.
This body of work emerged not just from the physicality of the site but from a broader realisation: the Cold War was not merely a geopolitical standoff; it was also a moral dilemma that shaped, and continues to shape, our responses to conflict. The peace camp at RAF Upper Heyford, particularly its 1980s protests, marked a seismic shift in how activism more generally was understood and organised. Unlike earlier movements, it drew support from a strikingly diverse range of people—crossing boundaries of age, gender, and social background. Its significance endures, yet public reaction to a 30th anniversary commemoration in 2012 revealed a troubling lack of balance in how these events are remembered. The protests were dismissed by some as naïve or misguided, without any recognition of their courage, their prescience, or the questions they posed about power and responsibility.
The images in this series aim to provoke these necessary conversations. At a time when the rapid escalation of the conflict in Ukraine has laid bare the volatility of unchecked aggression, I feel an urgent need to examine our collective military responses. Unlike Cold War proxy wars, where the stakes were mediated by distance and deniability, this conflict brings us perilously close to the kinds of direct escalations that make deterrence—and its consequences—a terrifying reality once again.
Through my lens, I explore not just the physical remnants of RAF Upper Heyford but also its echoes in the present. These images are meditations on decay, memory, and the fragility of peace. They juxtapose the monumental with the vulnerable: vast, hardened bunkers now succumbing to time and abandonment; meticulous military infrastructure now irrelevant in the face of evolving global threats. They ask us to reflect on what it means to prepare for destruction and whether that preparation truly safeguards us—or simply perpetuates cycles of fear and division.
This project is a call to action. It urges viewers to reconsider our approach to conflict, aggression, and militarism. It asks uncomfortable questions: What does security mean? Can peace ever be built on the threat of annihilation? And, most importantly, how do we reconcile the ghosts of deterrence with the realities of today’s wars?
By revisiting Upper Heyford, I hope to foster a broader dialogue about our shared history and its lessons. This work is not just about remembering the past—it is about shaping the future. If we fail to learn from these ruins, we risk building more of them. The stakes could not be higher.
Organisations deserving your attention…
CND – The Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament – cnduk.org
UNODA – The United Nations Office for Disarmament Affairs – disarmament.unoda.org
QPSW – Quaker Peace & Social Witness – www.quakersintheworld.org/quakers-in-action/275/Quaker-Peace-Social-Witness-QPSW
UN News – news.un.org/en/
RSF – Reporters Without Borders – rsf.org/en