I’ve just returned from a seven-day road trip through the leafy lanes of Normandy and Brittany with the overwhelming feeling that they all care for their villages so much better than we do, for ours.

Once celebrated for their charm, community spirit, and pristine natural surroundings, many of our southwest villages are now showing serious signs of neglect that speak to a deeper malaise: the quiet but steady demise of civic pride.

Take a drive through Dartmoor and its surrounding hamlets, and the indications are hard to miss — litter-strewn verges, fly-tipped waste festering on the moor for months, and roads so pockmarked with potholes they resemble obstacle courses rather than thoroughfares.

Even the most iconic locations are not immune. The car parks that serve as gateways to Dartmoor’s wild beauty are often in a state of desperate disrepair, their surfaces resembling tank tracks more than welcoming entry points for visitors. And as for information signage – there is none! Perhaps most disheartening and symbolic is the state of the National Park Visitor Centre in Princetown. Once a proud symbol of our stewardship of this treasured landscape, it now flies a tattered, grimy Union Flag, a sad metaphor for the broader decline in care and attention.

The public conveniences are just NOT – throughout our counties we are still paying for what should be free in any civilised society.

Locals have long voiced concerns about the lack of highway maintenance. Road surfaces are crumbling, signage is faded or missing altogether, and some village lanes are so poorly maintained they pose real dangers to drivers, cyclists, and pedestrians alike.

Yet, despite repeated complaints, the issues persist, sometimes for years, without resolution. The problem isn’t just one of aesthetics or inconvenience. It’s about what these signs of neglect represent: a loss of shared responsibility for the places we live in and love.

Civic pride is not just about keeping things tidy; it’s about a collective sense of ownership, of caring for our environment, our heritage and each other.

So, what’s gone wrong? Some point to budget cuts and under-resourced councils, struggling to maintain basic services.

Others blame a growing disconnect between residents and local governance, where decisions are made at a distance and accountability is hard to trace. But perhaps the most troubling factor is a creeping sense of apathy; an acceptance that this is just how things are now.

Yet, it doesn’t have to be this way. Across the region, there are still pockets of resistance; community clean-up groups, local volunteers repainting signs, and individuals quietly picking up litter on their morning walks.

These acts, though small, are powerful reminders that civic pride is not dead—it’s just in need of revival. If we want our villages to thrive, we must rekindle that sense of shared duty.

It starts with noticing, then caring, and finally acting—whether that means reporting a pothole, joining a local initiative, or simply refusing to walk past a piece of rubbish without picking it up. Because if we don’t take pride in our own villages, who will?

Jim McNeill is an explorer and founder of Warrior Citizen Science. He lives in Princetown.