When the dons approached the school forester about securing wood for new beams, he informed them that when New College had been built centuries earlier, a stand of oak had been planted in anticipation of just this moment. Five hundred years later, the roof was failing, and the trees were ready. Though apocryphal in most of its details, this tale perfectly encapsulates what has come to be known as the slow movement. At its simplest, slow stands for a focus on quality, authenticity, and longevity rather than a mindless adherence to the faster and cheaper ethos. This issue is about planning not only for tomorrow, but for the next year, and the next generation. Because if progress isn’t permanent, can it even be called progress at all?