What the frack?

I've generally tried to avoid involving myself in the fracking debate, particularly as questions about the future of this fledgling industry demanded a level of foresight that was entirely incompatible with my knowledge or the government's confusing and divided approach to energy policy. However, following publication of the 'once in a generation' energy bill, and the decision to lift restrictions on exploratory fracking, it would appear as if the way has been cleared for natural gas companies to invest and for me to venture an opinion. Many environmental campaigners have been dismayed by this apparent endorsement of Osborne's 'dash for gas,' but has the treasury really achieved the victory it wanted? From what I can see, there are still a couple of stumbling blocks before fracking can make a meaningful contribution to our energy mix.

Please note before I make any further comments that I'm not trying to deal with the ethical question of whether or not we should encourage fracking as something positive, or indeed whether it would even be a useful means of lowering energy prices or lowering emissions, I simply wish to highlight a few apparent inconsistencies at the heart of government policy. 

Unlike governments, which can plan in five-year election cycles, energy companies have to think in terms of decades-long investment projects, each of which can consume several billions of pounds. The upfront costs are often so large that it can be many years before a company can even think of turning a profit. As a result, before such important strategic decisions can be made, investors will want assurances that energy policy will not be radically altered by political whim or electoral upheaval. When we examine the framework laid down by the energy bill, these assurances are simply not in place.

For example, the lack of a 2030 decarbonisation target was acknowledged as a victory for Osborne and the fracking lobby, but the resulting compromise - a delay in the decision until 2015 - is hardly an outright win. In May of that year we can look forward to a general election. Given current polling, and Ed Milliband's vow to impose a 2030 target if Labour are elected, no company can be confident that the rules of the game will not be radically altered in three years time.

Moreover, the imposition of a decarbonisation target would pretty much make the use of carbon capture and storage (CCS) technology a requirement of all gas-fired power plants in the future. The problem is that not a single demonstration plant of this kind exists anywhere, in the world. This is not to suggest that CCS is a pipe-dream, just that it is extremely far from being rolled out on a commercial scale. The government is providing some funding as part of the new energy package, but not enough progress has been made, I would venture, to assuage the fears of investors who, quite understandably, don't want to deal with this extra expense themselves. 

I'd be interested to know the opinions of those who support fracking assiduously, but as the renewables industry can attest, an unclear policy pipeline is the last thing that investors in the energy business are looking for. In this bill, it is hard to see how the gas industry can look any further than the next three years. Given that a power plant has a lifespan of around forty years, decisions taken now could have very costly consequnces.

My thoughts on Owen Paterson

"From my own direct constituency experience I don’t personally think that inland wind farms are effective at reducing carbon. I don’t even think they are effective at producing energy."

These words were recently uttered by new Defra head Owen Paterson in an interview with Farmers Weekly. Rather gratifyingly, the interview occurred on the same day that the UK generated 4.1GW of wind power, the largest quantity ever achieved in this country and enough to power more than 3 million homes. The timing was also fortunate because only a matter of weeks previously the Institute for Public Policy Research published a report demonstrating that wind farms were effective at reducing carbon, and were also effective at producing energy. It could be argued that Paterson was, therefore, talking out of his bottom.

A quick look over his credentials demonstrates rather determined opposition to wind power, and also gives the impression that Paterson is not really the type of forward-thinking, game-changing environmental minister needed at a time of deep crisis. He seems to be cut more from the nimbyish, pastoral cloth that yearns for a picture postcard, pre-industrialised Britain, whilst simultaneously encouraging free-market solutions to environmental problems. Paterson has mentioned his love of trees, and apparently once owned two badgers, but he bemoans subsidies for the renewables sector, and has supported his constituents in protests against wind farms, as well as voting against the hunting ban. His profile seems to be that of a classic social Conservative combined with an economic Liberal: often a dangerous mix when it comes to environmental policy.

I don't believe that Paterson is a climate change sceptic, but it seems pretty clear that green groups and the already nervous renewables sector should be concerned by his appointment. Whilst top amongst those who will be gratified by the move is George Osbourne. After surely playing a role in Caroline Spelman's sacking, the treasury will expect Paterson to be a much more pliable figure than his predecessor. Although it's really too early to jump to conclusions, my hunch is that environmental concerns will be forced even further down the government's agenda after this appointment.

We need a more holistic approach to food culture

A recent scientific study has caused some alarm after it demonstrated, shock horror, that organic produce was likely no better for you than eating food produced by more conventional means. For some time now, certain eccentric corners of the green movement have warned of the apparent dangers of ingesting low levels of pesticides used to cultivate much of our supermarket produce, and praise organic food as a healthier alternative. The empirical ground for this claim was always flimsy, and it would appear that this line of reasoning has been dealt another blow. Knowing the dogmatic nature of many beholden to this view, I unfortunately don't see them changing tack anytime soon.

This is something of a pity as there are other more important, and more scientifically sound, reasons to support organic farming. What the furore over this recent study has revealed is that we often think about food production in ways that are much too narrow or simplistic. If we want to support organic farming, we need to question our assumptions about what organic farming is, how it differs from conventional farming, and what the benefits of choosing organic really are. My contribution to this question would be to suggest that the true value of organic food lies not in its flavour or its supposed health benefits, but in its contribution to limiting greenhouse gas emissions. Again, however, it would be a mistake to base our choices on this assumption alone - it's not as simple as organic = good and conventional = bad. I think we can best demonstrate the complexity of the issue by looking at a few specific examples.

Let's take French beans. It might seem self-evident that if we buy French beans grown in the UK, rather than beans imported from Nigeria, we would be doing the environment a favour. Things aren't that simple, though. If it turns out that the beans we bought in the UK, though local, were grown using mechanised labour and high levels of pesticides, the emissions associated with their production actually outweigh the emissions produced by the transportation of the beans from Nigeria. Provided the Nigerian beans were, as is likely, grown using more organic methods like hand-picking, it turns out they are the more sustainable product.

Another example: British tomatoes are often a good choice of sustainable produce when bought in the warmest summer months. However, if we buy British tomatoes towards the end of the season, or out of season, they are often grown using energy-intensive heated polytunnels or greenhouses. If we were to instead purchase tomatoes that had been grown in the warmer Spanish climate, we would actually be saving carbon emissions comparatively.

Aware of complications like these, the Soil Association decided to continue awarding organic status to food that had been transported by air, provided it met a certain criteria of cultivation. This decision was made in spite of the emissions associated with transportation of food to the UK, and recognised that looking at 'food miles' alone does not always give us the full picture. Whilst air-freighting remains a contentious issue, the Soil Association did at least try to recognise the complexity of establishing what is or is not organic or environmentally sustainable produce. What they demonstrated is that you can't simply focus on one aspect of food production, like transportation. Just as important as where our food comes from, is the question of how it is produced.

The difficulties do not stop there. Let me give you a final example. Chickpeas, as I'm sure you know, tend to come either raw and packaged in bags, or pre-cooked in tins. On the face of it, one might quite logically assume that purchasing the raw chickpeas was the more sustainable option. After all they are simply picked then dried in the sun before packaging. In this instance, it is the way the two products are cooked that causes the discrepancy. Raw chickpeas will be taken home and cooked in reasonably small quantities as needed, which is a relatively carbon-intensive process depending on your cooking method. This contrasts sharply with the tinned chickpeas which have also been cooked but in far greater quantities. The industrialised cooking of the tinned chickpeas actually makes them the more sustainable product.

Hopefully these examples will make you appreciate some of the challenges facing the conscientious consumer. Trying to find the most environmentally friendly produce is difficult enough when we consider individual products in isolation. The problem becomes magnified when you come to pre-cooked meals, for example, which contain many different individual ingredients. We can't, even at our most self-righteous, expect people to be able to make informed decisions about everything they buy. Quite simply they don't have the time, the information, or often the inclination.

The answer from many quarters has been to establish labelling systems for supermarket food, and I'm sure you will have noticed dozens of labels attached to a variety of produce. What you might not necessarily be aware of is the criteria that these organisations apply to the product you purchase. Red Tractor, for example, characterises its label as one that guarantees high standards of animal welfare. It has, however, been beset by accusations that many of the farms working with the organisation are in fact riddled with animal cruelty. It is only by knowing the values that your label represents that you can be sure that it meets the criteria you expect.

This leaves us in a bit of a quandary. In the same way as we can't legitimately expect people to research every product they buy, we can't also expect them to thoroughly research the evaluative methods employed by the organisations that label the produce in the first place. Short of labelling the labelers, what can be done? My answer to this question would be to suggest that without government intervention, most likely very little will change. Labels will remain confusing, companies will continue to place profits and customers above the demands of the planet and our food system will become ever more unsustainable. The sad but also completely understandable fact is that a great many people simply do not think about these issues, and changing the attitude of a nation towards food is something that takes an awful long time. Progress has doubtless been made, but progress is what it remains.

To achieve definite success, national or European government involvement is essential. In the same way as the EU has sought to provide minimum standards of animal welfare, by banning battery caging for hens and sow-stalls for pigs, so we must also look to provide minimum environmental standards across all food crops. A joint consultation between government, the public, and industry needs to take place to understand how far any change in our current model would impact upon food prices for both consumer and producer. But we should not forget that the planet has been made to bear the cost of our unsustainable food system for too long, and now, with time pressing, we should act to try and change it.

Adaptation and the myth of a technological saviour

Sorry for the rather long absence. My mind has been more than a little preoccupied, but I will now be returning to the blogging like a starved hyena to rotting flesh. Hopefully you'll forgive the delay, as well as that terrible simile.

Technology has been on my mind recently, particularly in relation to the increasingly voluble argument that adaptation is key to our battle against climate change. Now, perhaps contrary to what I said in a post some time back, adaptation is a necessary consequence of changes which we have already unleashed in the earth's climate. Whether we like it or not, we are going to have to adapt to an extent. What I want to emphasise now is that whilst this is true, it in no way provides an alternative to the need to try to mitigate climate change by limiting our carbon emissions.

It was recently revealed that ice in the Arctic had melted to unprecedented levels with time still remaining of summer for it to shrink even further. On the same day, the most prominent story around was Tim Yeo's insistence that what we need to get out of our economic mess is to build another runway at Heathrow. I wasn't the only one amazed by this as George Monbiot went on a highly entertaining rant on twitter culminating in attacks on Libertarians. Quite why he bothers trying to reason with Libertarians is anybodies guess. His point, though, is that we seem to have some sort of collective cognitive dissonance when it comes to climate change. On a day when the worst excesses of fossil-fuel driven capitalism were laid bare for all to see, we were fixated on the possibility of pumping yet more CO2 into the atmosphere.

As chair of the Energy and Climate Change Select Committee, you might have thought that Yeo might be aware that planes tend to produce rather a lot of harmful emissions but he seemed convinced that regulations put in place by the European emissions trading scheme (ETS) would nullify any potential increase in CO2. As James Murray of Business Green points out, however, Yeo's argument is flawed both because the ETS is currently ineffective due to an unrealistically low carbon price, and because if the carbon price was at the correct level an increase in flights would necessarily lead to huge hikes in ticket prices. Moreover, it rests on the notion that other sectors will significantly lower their own carbon emissions, something that has been rather sorely lacking to date.

This brings me to the point about technology. Louise Mensch, the now redundant Tory MP and self-promoter extraordinaire, chimed in by suggesting that the real way to pursue environmental goals was not by changing 'human behaviour' (which apparently involves flying to Alicante) but by investing our hopes in technology. The problem with this position is that it not only ignores the magnitude of the task we face, but also because it places faith in a highly uncertain solution.

Whilst it is plausible that technological development might happen to the extent that we might reverse some of the damage caused by emissions, or adapt sufficiently to handle large temperature increases, it really is putting a lot of eggs in one basket. What happens exactly if such a technology does not present itself? Don't worry, they say, human ingenuity is such that we will overcome this challenge. As a plan that doesn't exactly fill me with confidence.

The problem is amplified by the fact that many of those that campaign most vociferously for adaptation, rather than mitigation, are those least in favour of government investment in low carbon industry. Mitigation and adaptation are united in the sense that it is investment in mitigation technologies that will give us the tools to adapt to necessary changes. Government funding for research and development of renewable energy, for example, may help to create exactly the technologies to help extract us from our predicament. But those who most loudly exult man's creative capacity are also those most vehemently opposed to subsidies for the renewable sector. These people are in a position in which they claim technology to be our saviour, whilst simultaneously refusing the means by which such a technology might be born. This is why I've come to the conclusion that those promoting adaptation alone are basically promoting another form of denial.

The Green Deal: Does it go far enough?

The Green Deal is being attacked for a number of reasons - some with and some without substance - providing further demonstration of the Tories environmental agenda approach of 'if it's liable to tick of Paul Dacre, then best left well alone.' The most provocative part of the Green Deal is its insistence that households pay interest on government loans acquired to help make their home more environmentally efficient. The idea being that the money subsequently saved on fuel bills will be great enough offset the repayments from the loan. This is the so-called 'golden rule' and it is the key means of convincing consumers to invest in energy efficiency. Of course, savings depend greatly on the type of house, as well as the scale of work undertaken, the energy use of the property, the number of occupants and so forth. For this reason, it can be extremely difficult to know how great a particular household's savings or otherwise might be. The right wing press has jumped all over this uncertainty, adding false and distorted information to an already complicated picture, ostensibly on the basis of saving homeowners from stealth taxation.

This is a problem for anyone who wants to see the Green Deal succeed because a lot of people, particularly those whose priorities are economic before environmental, will not be swayed unless they are absolutely guaranteed to get a return. Preferably a sizable one because, let's face it, for many this will be perceived as a bit of a faff to sort out. What's more, private firms, no doubt concerned about the negative publicity stoked up by the Mail and Telegraph, are growing more reluctant to be associated with the legislation further limiting household options and dissuading them of the merits of the enterprise.

This is a pretty sad turn of events because, on paper at least, the Green Deal sounds like a very attractive proposition, and one that could claim to be genuinely cross-party in its approach. Conservatives could get on board because government involvement is kept to a minimum and it shouldn't cost the taxpayer substantially, Lib Dems could like it because it's the only decent thing they've managed to extract from the coalition to date, and Labour could support it because it backs up Miliband's recent attacks on unscrupulous energy providers.

The furore has, however, brought about what could be another defining moment for the coalition. If the bill is dropped, or watered down so much as to render it largely ineffective, the already strained relations between Conservatives and Lib Dems could be stretched further still. For all their lack of backbone, environmental issues have long been a core concern of many in the yellow corner and a Tory dismemberment may just push them closer to the edge. It could also be the moment that Cameron reveals his true colours on climate change, and we discover whether his fondness for Huskies extends to genuine action. Considering how vital energy efficiency is to any hope of reducing emissions to an acceptable level over the next 10 years or so, failure to back the Green Deal will strip him of any last pretence of environmental concern, particularly as he has demonstrated strong support for it in the past. This will mean him potentially going up against his chancellor, which could prove rather tasty.

Of course, know one can no for sure how the Green Deal will fare until it is launched, but it already appears that there is room for potential improvement. So how exactly does one go about making the Green Deal more attractive? Well, in this instance, I find myself in partial agreement with Guy Newey, a senior research fellow at Policy Exchange. As he rightly points out in Leo Hickman's blog, energy efficiency is one of the most cost-effective ways of reducing our CO2 emissions, and we certainly cannot afford to turn our back on energy efficiency as a concept. For this reason, he appears to suggest that extra sweeteners may be added to the deal over time to increase its appeal to households. Because of it's cost-effectiveness, there is ample economic and environmental evidence to suggest that further incentives could and perhaps should be forthcoming. Maybe the Green Deal simply doesn't go far enough?

I find this idea particularly appealing because it leaves the right wing press with little room for manoeuvre. Having based its arguments against the Green Deal on the potential, and often fictitious, costs to households, if that criticism is assuaged, then the Mail will be forced to give up its assault or change tack. The only conceivable option available will be to criticise the Deal on the basis that it is an antidote to a fictitious problem. It will have to deny the environmental good of energy efficiency. This argument, being much more limited and necessarily doomed to failure, will be far easier to ignore. Of course, one must never underestimate the press' capacity to distort, but I think people are far more likely to be concerned by a hit to their wallets than by the possibility of contributing towards minimising CO2 emissions, no matter where they stand on global warming as an issue.

As with any market, the Green Deal will produce winners and losers - those who make 'returns,' and those who don't. What I would add to Newey's point is that every effort must be made to ensure that those who are most vulnerable to future increases in the price of energy, receive greater assurances than those for whom fiscal security is less of an issue. Those that would truly benefit from lower energy bills must be made to feel that the investment will be worth it. I would also add, and here I fear I may stand in contrast to Policy Exchange, that any future sweeteners added to the Green Deal should not come at the expense of other projects, like renewable energy, which will also help to lower our GHG emissions. Indeed, what we must realise is that the less electricity we use overall, the more and more effective renewable electricity becomes. Once we don't use as much, we don't have to produce as much.

Climate Change: A Question of Expediency or Ideology?

Most scientists are of the opinion that climate change is a matter of empirical evidence, rather than belief. They essentially see themselves operating in a very different realm from politicians, and certainly from political theorists. Their role, as they see it, is to provide the evidence. The evidence then forms the backdrop from which policy may be pursued. In other words, the reality frames the action rather than the other way around.

Of course from the perspective of an empiricist this is perfectly correct, but problems arise when we take science out of the private realm of research and place it in a public context where it will be scrutinised by people with very different perspectives on the world, and very different views about the role of government. At this point, vested interests, cultural beliefs, and social attitudes seemingly become as important as an ability to grasp the science itself. In this situation, is it still expedient for proponents for action on climate change to continue to press their argument on the basis of evidence alone? David Corner, writing in the Guardian a few weeks ago, suggested that whilst it may not be the most logical way to tackle scepticism about climate change, we should nonetheless frame the debate in terms of "belief" rather than empiricism.

Corner presents his own evidence for this opinion by citing a number of studies, including his own, that reveal the existence of "biased assimilation" when it comes to questions of climate change. Simply put, one is more or less likely to attribute persuasiveness to evidence depending on your already pre-formed belief about climate change. If you do not believe in climate change initially, exposure to overwhelming evidence is unlikely to change your mind.

Because of this phenomenon, Corner suggests, we should not and cannot look to science to solve a problem that is in fact social in nature:

"It follows that the answer to overcoming climate change scepticism is to stop reiterating the science, and start engaging with what climate change scepticism is really about - competing visions of how people see the world, and what they want the future to look like."

The work of Corner and his colleagues does highlight some very important aspects of climate scepticism, and illustrates further the power that cultural attitudes hold over our interpretation of the world. However, I would challenge his conclusion that those who have acknowledged the existence of man-made climate change should re-frame the debate to accommodate those who remain unconvinced.

For a start, I do not believe it to be helpful or prudent to frame a question that is essentially one of expediency in terms of belief or non-belief. Drawing ideological dividing lines is a sure fire way to conflict, and united action is our best hope of successfully challenging the growing threat of environmental disaster.

In my opinion, it is far more productive to acknowledge that the severity of the threat faced implies that no ideology or political belief can benefit from inaction on climate change. A true Conservative must recognise that action will help to protect traditional institutions, rather than undermine them, and that wide-scale pollution is in fact a serious violation of property rights and something to be fought. A true Libertarian likewise must acknowledge that freedom and liberty are not best served by potentially impoverishing a good proportion of the world's population. Belief does not have to be undermined by climate science, it can be reinforced. The best way to challenge false belief is not by postulating in terms of rival beliefs, but by denying the viability of holding a belief when strong evidence suggests its contrary to be true.

The question remains, however, of how one goes about persuading people of the reality of global warming without recourse to empirical evidence which will not be of persuasive value. My answer is that climate change provides a perfect example of an instance in which ideology in general is shown to be obstructive. That is, when it exists without basis in actuality. Indeed, the existence of climate change forces us to re-examine some of our basic political presuppositions about the role of society, the shape of the economy, and the power of the state, but unless we do this with reference to the world as it exists around us then we will always be in conflict with reality.

We have been confronted with the stark realisation that our political principles are flawed, and many things often taken for eternal truths are in fact historical anomaly. Faith in an unencumbered free market, belief in a small state, acceptance of economic growth as an absolute good. All of these positions are expressions of political circumstance, not ultimate values, and they are expressions that must now be re-evaluated in the face of new developments. I would not frame a debate about expediency in terms of belief, because belief itself is a product of expediency.

That is a key lesson that we can draw from this scenario. Quite simply, it is neither desirable nor beneficial to attempt to seperate reason from faith (or vice versa).

Politicians, climate policy and cognitive dissonance

I think I've made it pretty clear where I stand on the subject of climate change denial, but to a certain extent, I've grown to admire the commitment of deniers to their ignorance. Despite having been consistently shown to be fools lacking basic scientific knowledge or human empathy, deniers tend to show an awful lot of resilience. Either they've simply given up on rational thought, or they've realised that if they cave now they'd have to own up to being massive tools. Whatever it is, like a stubborn stain in a toilet bowl, they won't disappear easily.

What is perhaps more pressing, at least in a political sense, is the stance of those who have accepted the facts of global warming but have so far failed to act with anything like the speed required. Obviously, certain aspects of climate policy are notoriously difficult to articulate because of uncertainties, but the urgency with which we must proceed is not in doubt. Action and clear targets need to be enforced now. Investment and commitment is a must.

I recently read an interview with Jon Huntsman in which he perfectly articulated everything I find distasteful about this wishy-washy approach to climate questions, so I thought I would use this opportunity to make a few points. For those of you who do not know him, Huntsman is seemingly one of the few rational human beings still part of the Republican Party in the US. Prior to his decision to run for the GOP nomination, a rather doomed enterprise considering his rather centrist views, Huntsman had accepted the qualified opinion of the scientific community on the question of anthropogenic climate change to the extent that he famously tweeted towards the start of the race: "To be clear. I believe in evolution and trust scientists on global warming. Call me crazy."

Sadly, the initial optimism surrounding Huntsman's faith in science was dashed last December when he parroted the denialist line that "the scientific community owes us more in terms of a better description or explanation." Because of this, he continued, there is simply "not enough info right now to be able to formulate policies."

Obviously, Huntsman was always going to be playing to a hostile crowd on the subject of environmentalism, but it was nonetheless disheartening to be confronted with a GOP race in which none of the candidates were prepared to act on decades of qualified research.

When asked recently by Grist about his apparent volte-face Huntsman maintained his position, arguing that "there is confusion in the minds of a lot of Americans about where the science is because the debate is still going on in the scientific community." Without "consistent and scientifically backed data," he insists, "you can't get good public policy." 

This could be taken straight out of a denialist handbook. Right from the get-go climate scientists have been adamant about the absolute necessity of curbing CO2 emissions. For more than two decades now, the IPCC has insisted on the vital importance of acting sooner rather than later. Lyndon Johnson even addressed congress on the subject back in 1965. There is still confusion in the science, but only in the particulars. By calling for further research, delay, and 'clarity,' you are simply inviting catastrophe. The solid facts of man-made global warming have been known about for a very long time, and Huntsman's failure to acknowledge this speaks volumes about his priorities.

These priorities become more clear later in the interview when Huntsman notes that "the problem [of climate change] has become eclipsed by the jobs deficit right now...There ain't a whole lot of bandwidth for anything else." Climate change is simply "taking a backseat to some of these other more urgent issues that are economics related. I'm not following the issue like I was several years ago." Most tellingly, he claims, "people aren't going to hear out the scientific community until such time as the economy rebounds."

Personally I find it hard to conceive of anything more urgent that combating the greatest environmental threat that mankind has ever faced, but Huntsman's rhetoric is simply indicative of the position of many politicians on both sides of the barricade. A fallacy has emerged, suggesting that we have to make a choice between economic recovery and jobs or a clean energy future. Not only does this position eschew the reality of job creation in the low carbon sector, it fails to account for the absolutely enormous potential of a switch to green energy. Not just in jobs, but in terms of growth as well. Technological innovation through research and development could well spark the industries of the future, and there are clear indications that renewables are growing ever more competitive on an economic level. The furore over the British government's decision to cut solar FITs is, in this respect, something of a promising development. In addition, failure to act now could result in gigantic costs further down the line. Economic transformation is simply not something that might happen, it's something that has to happen unless we want to embrace economic ruin in the long term.

Which neatly points us to another wholly distasteful element of modern politics that is totally at odds with climate reality: ferociously aggressive short-termism. When GDP is all that matters, and political careers rest on its fluctuations, it becomes incredibly difficult to persuade public figures of the necessity of revolutionising entire economies. When the immediate consequences of emissions are hidden by lags, moreover, this task becomes ever more challenging.

Although not a problem of Huntsman's making, short-termism is an issue which we need to deal with and one which politicians needs to discuss openly. There are signs that this conversation is beginning. In the UK, for example, Rupert Read has suggested the creation of a third house of 'Guardians' that would monitor and vet legislation to ensure that it does not adversely affect the generations that will come after us. Cross-party agreement on long-term goals and policy is, in my opinion, a necessity, unless we want to continue to see our interest in the environment vary along with the stock market.

Moreover, the most frustrating element of Huntsman's position is his apparent unwillingness to account for market failure. Pure and simple, environmental decimation brought about through man-made warming is the unseen or ignored consequence of industrialised capitalism. Had environmental factors been costed properly in the first place, it seems highly unlikely that we would find ourselves in such a precarious position. To continue to ignore this market failure, and prioritise fossil fuels in the immediate future, is sheer lunacy. It is the decision to abandon the real world for a fantasy universe in which the laws of physics do not apply. Markets must be logically bound by the parameters of the world in which they exist, so to suggest that the environment can take a backseat to economic development is frankly absurd. Economic development should not and can not be divorced from environmental well-being. Reality has to frame economic development, not the other way around, and until politicians realise this the real world will continue to suffer.

Mitigation vs. Adaptation: Why we can't afford to wait and see

One of the major difficulties facing anyone trying to articulate climate policy is dealing with uncertainty. I should stress to all you sceptics out there that I do not mean uncertainty surrounding the scientific fundamentals - we know that global warming is happening, and that mankind's activities are the cause of it - but rather how quickly or severely climate change will affect us (though early indications present a very bleak picture indeed).

This uncertainty arises in part from the lags associated with CO2 emissions. Estimates suggest that we may face a 40 year delay before the true warming effect of green house gas emissions begins to be felt. At the moment, we are only experiencing warming from 1960s emissions. For this reason, it may be tempting to look at a lack of immediate cause and effect as a demonstration of uncertainty within the science itself, leading one to the assumption that more investigation and more time might be needed to properly evaluate the potential risks. Moreover, there is a vocal minority, perhaps susceptible to this view, that would go so far as to suggest that we are capable of adapting to any change that does present itself. This is a profound mistake.

The difficulty with the wait and see approach extends directly from the fact that it refuses to acknowledge the reality of the cause until it accounts for its effect, but, as I just mentioned, by the time this effect makes itself known it may well be too late to stop some of its worst consequences. Even if we stopped emitting now, we still face the possibility of a temperature increase between 1C and 3C above pre-industrial levels. If we continue to emit whilst waiting for further evidence to present itself, we will likely reach temperatures even higher than this. We know more than enough to suggest that the risk of inaction is far too high.

When you combine the wait and see approach with a focus on adaptation, the problem is amplified. To argue the case for adaptation you would probably need to demonstrate that the risks of waiting are relatively slight, and, given the evidence at our disposal, this is a very difficult claim to maintain under scrutiny. On the other hand, if you acknowledge the risks, you then have to claim that we would be able to adapt to the changes that significantly higher temperatures could bring. This is also extremely difficult.

If we pursued a business-as-usual approach CO2e concentrations would likely reach about 750ppm by the end of this century. This entails about a 50% chance of a mean global temperature increase of 5C. The potential devestation unleashed by such a rapid surge in temperature is biblical in proportion. At that temperature, most, if not all, of the ice and snow in the world would melt causing the seas to rise exponentially. Bangladesh and Florida would be submerged, along with numerous islands and coastal regions, Souther Europe would become a desert, and agricultural land the world over would be redrawn requiring a radical alteration of food systems. The nation of Kiribati in the Pacific ocean is currently in talks with the Fijian government to relocate its entire population due to rising sea levels. Kiribati has a population of 100,000, Bangladesh alone has a population close to 150 million. It seems arrogant to imagine that human ingenuity would be able to deal safely with the kind of migration and famine that dramatic warming could entail.

Perhaps what troubles me most about the adaptation argument is that it seems to appeal to pride; a sort of humans vs. nature scenario in which we pit human technology against natural forces in the belief that we can successfully overcome whatever challenges the earth throws at us. This is never a battle we are likely to win, and succesfully warding off global warming will require more than a degree of humility, as well as an acknowledgement that we cannot hope to outsmart natural forces at this level of intensity.

Mitigation not only makes sense environmentally, it also makes sense economically. The scale of investment required to mitigate climate change is significant, but it is well within our capability. Nicholas Stern suggests that we require investment of around 2% of GDP annually to limit our temperature increase to around 2C, a moderate amount compared to the possible costs entailed by the consequences of inaction. James Hansen suggests a very different approach, calling for a carbon tax on fossil fuels which would be redistributed amongst populations without any interference from government. Though these suggestions come from very different ends of the political spectrum, they are united by an acknowledgement that immediate action must be taken to counteract potentially monstrous costs further down the line.

Whichever way you look at it, barring a remarkable scientific or technological discovery, mitigation, pursued swiftly and emphatically, seems to be the only sensible option. Those who place their faith in adaptation simply fail to appreciate the degree of danger with which we are confronted. Unless we face up to our responsibility to future generations, we may well leave them with a planet devoid of the environmental and economic riches we take for granted.

Poverty, Green Growth, and the New Industrial Revolution

Last week I went to a series of lectures by Professor Nicholas Stern, author of the hugely influential 2006 Stern Review. For those of you familiar with the contents of the original study, these talks did not necessarily provide much novelty, but, as an overview of the economic and political ramifications of climate change, the message dispensed through them is vital and important. I'd heartily recommend that you all take a little time out to review the slides and listen to the podcasts here, here, here, and here.

Stern is certainly an eloquent speaker and his ability to transcend the worlds of academia and public policy is particularly impressive. His appeal for a new industrial revolution to combat climate change risks is sensible, and, more importantly, achievable. The difficulty lies, as he makes clear, in galvanising the political will to take definitive action against the hazards of global temperature increases.

I won't go into too much detail on the contents of the talks because his podcasts will undoubtedly do the topic more justice, and his forthcoming book sounds like a must-read for anyone with an interest in the economics of climate change. I will, however, highlight just a few of the points that most appealed to me, partly because they help to validate much of my own thinking, and partly because his central arguments have such far-reaching consequences for international development.

The most vital sentiment I took away from these lectures was the idea that there simply cannot be any passengers in this battle. To keep to a roughly 50/50 chance of a 2C rise in temperatures, world emissions need to be cut by a factor of 2.5, which is equivalent to lowering emission flows from nearly 50 billion tonnes in 2010 to less than 20 in 2050. If we account for a conservative growth in output of a factor of 3 over this time, then we need to cut our emissions to output ratio by a factor of at least 7. In case anyone was in any doubt about the scope of change needed, these figures should leave you under no illusion. We are talking about making industry between 7 and 8 times more environmentally efficient by 2050. That is a huge task.

It is largely these figures that explain the title of this lecture series, 'Climate Change and the New Industrial Revolution,' because the scale of the changes required necessitate no less than a complete reappraisal of business practice in general. Little good comes of targeting specific industries or sectors (though obviously larger efficiency savings in some areas can help mitigate more sluggish change in others). We must instead revolutionise the way in which the whole of our world economy is run. From the largest fossil fuel emitters right down to the average household, we all need to live much more efficiently.

Stern is also keen to demonstrate the important link between combating poverty and combating climate change, describing this story as one of "deep injustice." One of the most distressing features of global warming is that those peoples that played historically little part in fossil fuel emissions will be those that are hit earliest and hardest by rising temperatures and sea levels. Because of this injustice, reasons Stern, we cannot insist upon treating the small remaining carbon space that we have as a commons. The fossil fuel reserves that we can still safely use should be focused on helping developing and undeveloped countries to grow and build their own sustainable futures. The rich countries were the ones that reaped the whirlwind, and it is the rich countries that must take the lead in correcting their failure. 

Not only does this make sense economically, it is a moral imperative. If we picture reserves as currency, it would take a hard heart to claim that a poor man and a rich man alike should both be given an equal amount of cash. It is far more just and equitable to prioritise the needs of the poor man, over those of the already rich. By allowing poor countries to develop quickly, whilst rich countries lead the way in technological innovation, we can hope to overcome the two greatest challenges of our age, poverty and climate change. Who knows, in 200 years time people might look back on this period as a turning point for the better in human history.

Beyond these two core arguments, Stern also provides a refreshingly sober analysis of the role of the state in tackling AGW. As I have mentioned in previous blogs, the argument, or supposed argument, between the private and public sector has taken on such a toxic quality that we have reached the point where some on the right perceive any State intervention, no matter how slight, as a gross violation of liberty. Stern gives this view short shrift. The argument, he maintains, that the markets should be free to navigate themselves out of this mess does not take account of the fact that it was market failure that caused it. By utterly failing to properly cost the environmental damage produced by fossil fuel driven growth, markets have locked us into a road to ruin. Even the most fervent free-market economist recognises that in an instance of market failure, the State needs to intervene to provide direction. Indeed, many see this as the State's key, and perhaps sole, responsibility to the economy.

The tone of Stern's first two lectures was largely optimistic, in spite of the scope of the challenge he presents. He makes it clear that we are pretty much aware of what has to be done, we are pretty sure of the amount of investment required (roughly 2% of annual GDP), and we are already seeing rapid technological innovation. What we are clearly lacking, as he discussed in the third, is the political will to enact these necessary changes. The reason for this becomes obvious by a simple comparison. If we look at the British economy during the Second World War, people were united in their recognition of the need to combat the threat of fascism in Europe. There was no objection when the economy was transformed into a centralised war machine. Today, in contrast, it is very difficult for a public, who are not necessarily familiar with the science, who are preoccupied with a fiscal crisis, and who are regularly subject to denialist drivel, to perceive the dangers and risks of climate change, that, no matter how real, seem distant and opaque. When we think of these things, our current lack of political will becomes increasingly understandable.

This, then, is our major task. We simply must get better at communicating these risks and making them more relevant to the person on the street. We have the knowledge, we have the ability, we have the money and the expertise; all that is lacking is the will power. It is one thing to know that we can do something, but quite another to know that we will do it.

The logical pitfalls of 'militant atheism'

Religious debate does not sit well with the British psyche, at least not at a public level. For most people, even the Church of England is less a mounthpiece of god than a cultural peculiarity. It encapsulates perfectly the attitude of most Britons towards religion; largely ignored, but something utterly ensconced in our national make-up. It is with some trepidation, therefore, that I attempt to wade into the current and ongoing debate between 'aggressive secularism,' and those that wish to see religion play a more active role in our political and social lives.

Now I should preface this by saying that I'm an atheist. Not a 'militant' atheist as Richard Dawkins would like me to be, but an aetheist nontheless. That I don't consider myself 'militant' should also not be interpreted as a defence of religion. Whilst I don't share Dawkins' fervour for intolerance, I agree that dogmatic religious belief is damaging and harmful.

What I find so endlessly tedious about this debate is that, whilst it dresses itself in modern guise, it is simply a rehashing of a positivistic assault on faith. Essentially the argument boils down to the fact that it is impossible to demonstrate, through logical or empirical proof, that god exists, and moral concepts predicated on the existence of a metaphysical entity are, by association,  meaningless. Betrand Russel in his Sceptical Essays claimed that "it is undesirable to believe in a proposition when there are no grounds whatever for supposing it is true," and A. J. Ayer took inspiration from this utterance when constructing his assault on metaphysics in Language, Truth and Logic.

If we look at Dawkins' assault on religion, obvious similarities come to light. In 2002, Dawkins gave a speech in the US on 'militant atheism.' Quoting the wonderful Douglas Adams, he questioned why it was that religious propositions (e.g. god exists) are not analysed and questioned in the same way that a scientific proposition would be. That is, testing hypotheses that are vulnerable to disproof through logical or empirical means. He reacts with indignation to the suggestion that there is perhaps something different about these propositions, something 'sacred' that distinguishes a religious from a scientific hypothesis. He sees no difference between the two categories of proposition, just as Russel and Ayer before him.

The problem with this positivistic assault on religion is that it utterly fails to understand the subject matter that it is attempting to subvert. When Dawkins attacks religion, he is not attacking faith but a caricature of faith that lacks any kind of social or historical nuance. I think Terry Eagleton got it pretty spot on when he wrote, "imagine someone holding forth on biology whose only knowledge of the subject is the Book of British Birds, and you have a rough idea of what it feels like to read Richard Dawkins on theology."

Dawkins clearly betrays a lack of historical understanding. According to the propositional logic from which his arguments descend, one can simply line up propositions uttered at any point over history and judge them on the same criteria of logical or empirical verifiability. Those that meet this criteria are kept, whilst those that don't are simply discarded as meaningless. When Dawkins demolishes the proposition 'god exists,' he fails to understand or consider the circumstances under which that utterance arose. Not only does this do grave injustice to many centuries of thinking, it is also an incredibly elitist and damaging philosophy to promulgate. By banishing questions of morality and metaphysics, the positivistic assault seperates discussion of morality from the practice of living morally. Its lesson is that you can talk about morals all you want, but it won't actually impact on their practical application.

Dawkins also fails to understand religious impulse, as well as the role that religion has played in our cultural and social evolution. Indeed, one can make the argument that the evolutionary biology which Dawkins claims to defend has very clear roots in religious conceptions of god and nature. Spinoza, for example, conceived of a pantheistic god that was indistinguishable from nature, combining, in so doing, faith in a divine power with a reasoned understanding of the world around him. The idea being that by investigating the world rationally, one took a step towards understanding god's 'plan.' The concept of  a divine creator was a way of codifying and explaining the world, and also provided a framework under which further exploration could be conducted. That god is perhaps no longer necessary to this enterprise, thanks to great leaps in our understanding of the universe, does not render the idea of god a meaningless one.

What I think is most important, however, is that in his reasoning Dawkins is demonstrating what R. G. Collingwood called 'low-grade thinking.' When one compares one proposition against another with no thought as to why each proposition arose in the first place, one is entirely ignoring the baggage that comes with them. In contrast to propositional logic, therefore, Collingwood promulagated a logic of question and answer. Our thoughts, he reasoned, do not simply arise out of an ether, but are products of often hard and laborious problem-solving. It is only when we endeavour to unpick our thoughts that we realise that what we originally believed to be a proposition was in fact the answer to a very specific question, and it is only in so far that a proposition answers the question it was intended to answer that we can judge its verifiability. This, of course, necessitates knowing what the question was, and also understanding the context in which the question arose.

This, however, is a project to which Dawkins and other positivists will not consent. Instead they would rather attack and categorise a subject about which they know nothing, creating straw men and burning them to the ground to no effect whatsoever. Analysing the proposition 'god exists' is necessarily a historical examination of the circumstances in which that proposition arose. Propositional logic has demonstrated itself incapable and unwilling to take on that task, so it will always fail to adequately comprehend the motivations for religious faith. If Dawkins did endeavour to examine this proposition correctly, I think he would find a much more scientific story that he might imagine.

Climate Change and the Public/Private Debate

In my last post, I drew attention to the debate between Keynes and Hayek and the way in which their differing economic views came to define many of the opinions of the left and right, respectively. The key point to take from this debate, for me, is that both men, Keynes willingly and Hayek reluctantly, admitted the need for State intervention into the private sphere. The difference between the two thinkers was how far and how deep this intervention should go. Hayek always maintained that the State should be peripheral, and confined to only the most basic elements of welfare like health and education. Keynes, in contrast, held that the State's role within the economy should be dictated by circumstance. If unemployment was high, as it was for much of Keynes's career, governments should intervene to create employment. But, if social concerns were not so acute, the State could afford to be more subdued. Famously, when confronted with the criticism that he had altered his monetary policy, Keynes is alleged to have said: "When the facts change, I change my mind. What do you do, sir?"

The lesson, therefore, is where one decides draws the line between the private and the public sphere, not a decision between public and private in themselves. This line, as Keynes made clear, is constantly shifting as discoveries, disasters, and fortune alters the economic, political, and social landscape. We must constantly keep asking how far the State should be able to encroach on private life, and how much reign should be granted to the pursuit of private enterprise?

Arguably, these questions have never carried as much weight as they do today. The world is confronted not only with an economic crisis of unprecedented scope and scale, but an environmental crisis that is destined to impact the course of human history in profound and perhaps yet unseen ways. When Keynes wrote his great works of economics, his principle concern was unemployment. Today we must add to that the fear of environmental calamity.

With this in mind, it seems increasingly clear that State intervention on a national and international scale is required to ward off these twin dangers. How else are we to secure both economic prosperity and a viable and environmentally sound future? Such is the depth to which Keynesian thinking has been relegated, however, that government action, particularly in the United States, is regularly perceived as, at best, a violation of personal liberty, and, at worst, a maniacal plot to enslave. Free-marketeers still vociferously maintain that a market unencumbered by regulation is the most effective way to combat the dangers of climate disaster and economic ruin. I believe they are wrong on both counts.

Both Europe and the US were plunged into financial crisis at the same time, but whilst America continues to demonstrate tentative recovery and a declining unemployment rate, the EU languishes in recession. The simple reason for this is that the US continues to bolster its economy through stimulus, whilst endeavouring to minimise cuts. The economy is being allowed to recover before it is attacked. In Europe, the opposite is the case. Germany dictates crippling terms to 'lazy' southern Europeans leading to record levels of unemployment, and shrinking economies. In Britain, unemployment stands at a 17-year high and the economy has flatlined. The image of the private sector saddled up and riding to the rescue of a beleagured public sphere has failed to materialise.

Likewise, there is pretty clear evidence that the markets alone are not fit to take on the challenge offered by climate change. For a start, there is just too much vested interest at stake. Companies like Chevron, BP, Exxon Mobil, and Shell stand to lose billions if the markets decided to treat global warming seriously. This is because the reserves, on which the value of these companies is based, must be left in the ground if we are to meet climate targets. On top of that, the private sector is simply incapable of moving fast enough on its own and huge government backing will be required if we are to build sustainable industry and innovative technology. At the moment, our fossil fuel consumption is going up exponentially, and not down as it needs to.

The problem for any realist, anyone who can see the very real danger in government inaction, is that they are inevitably confronted with waves of vitriolic ideology. The public vs. private debate has become so toxic that those on the private side have lost all sense of context, pushing the idea of the State as an overbearing force of oppression, and seeing conspiracy in the most strongly supported scientific data. We need to stop thinking of public and private in terms of opposites, but in a way which harnesses the best qualities of both. Innovation, solidity, and, yes, regulations. It is only through cooperation, redirection, and by harnessing the creativity of private industry that a way out of these twin crises can be found.

Keynes vs. Hayek

Last night I went to a lecture at the LSE by Nicholas Wapshott on the ways in which the economic debate between John Mayhard Keynes and Friedrich Hayek continues to define the policy of the left and the right. In the speaker's own words, he paints his analysis in "broad brush strokes" and as the lecture went on it became more and more clear that his argument was mainly directed to the left and right in America.

Essentially, Wapshott maintains that the economic policies of the left and right since the end of the second world war have been largely defined by the contrasting economic programs of Keynes and Hayek. Following the first world war, the brilliant Keynes arose to prominence and eventually grew to define economics until the 1970s with a focus on raising employment. Thereafter, a paradigm shift catapulted the previously out of favour Hayek into the spotlight to such an extent that his supposed views are now central to Republican, and particularly Tea Party, thinking in the US. Wapshott's caricatures of Keynes and Hayek are not particularly nuanced - Keynes = state spending, whilst Hayek = cutting services and small government - but his talk did raise a few interesting points that I thought I would share.

Wapshott makes a case that the European reaction to the ongoing financial crisis is strongly rooted in a Hayekian paradigm. If one looks at the actions of the conservative party in the UK, it is hard not to see at least a little glee at the rolling back of some aspects of the welfare state. Likewise, in Europe, the ever harsher austerity measures forced upon supposedly 'lazy' southern States appears to suggest an indifference to high unemployment and a fervour for cutting state expenditure.

Keynes, as Wapshott notes, would have been horrified by the potentially disastrous political consequences that such policies entail. Writing, as he did, at a time of both high unemployment and dramatic political extremism, Keynes forsaw an inevitable link between the two. Indeed, The Economic Consequences of the Peace accurately predicted the rise of extremist politics in Germany following the crippling measures imposed by the allied forces in the treaty of Versailles.

What Wapshott clearly fears, and not without good reason, is that the austerity purges enacted by national and European governments may well bring about the same disenfrachisement that precipitated the rise of Fascism in Europe. Inevitably, when this austerity comes from an external, foreign power, the inherent risk of stoking nationalist fervour is increasingly aggravated.

Another key point to emerge from the talk was the relationship between public and private sectors and the way in which debate on this relationship has become increasingly toxic in recent years. Keynes obviously favoured a degree of state intervention to ward off the dangers of high unemployment, but Wapshott also notes that Hayek himself admitted the need for a welfare state that could cater for basic services, like health and education - not that you'll ever hear this from Libertarians. The key to the argument is not State vs. Private, but where the line between the two should be drawn.

This point is something all too readily forgotten by many on the American right today. The choice is not, and has never been, between an extreme laissez-faire economics or an absolute Statist solution, but whether circumstances demand State intervention or not. Those that paint Keynes as a dangerous Socialist, moreover, for advocating State solutions, are fooling themselves. Keynes was an economic pragmatist, and as the facts changed so did his opinions. Instead, what the right's vilification of Keynesian economics, and its trumpeting of a debased Hayekianism, demonstrates, is its inflexibility, as well as its willingess to pursue ideology over practical politics. These are, of course, the very same criticisms thrown at so-called 'Socialists' that advocate a degree of regulation.

A quick glance through the car-crash television series that is the GOP nominaton race tells you the degree to which a small government ethos is ingrained in Republican economic policy. Despite very strong evidence that deregulation of the market played a pivotal role in the crash of 2008, the right's answer is to strap the patient down for another dose. It is the right's inability to understand the practical requirements of today's economy, and it is their unwillingness to view the State as anything other than the boogie man, that makes them so dangerous.

The pathology of climate change denial

It's an interesting experience trying to reason with a climate change denier. Sort of like trying to explain the water cycle to a caveman. No matter how much you point to the mountains, clouds, and rivers, they're still going to club you to death and steal your sandwiches. Saying that, it's also easy to understand why people wouldn't want to believe in something like climate change. It's so big and difficult. It requires thinking about how you lead your life and how the world economy should be run, how politics would have to change etc. etc. For many people it's simply easier to stick their fingers in their ears and pretend its not happening. I get that.

There is a certain type of denier that I cannot stand, however, and that is the politically motivated denier. The sort of hack that will distort and obstruct information because the consequences of real debate might entail them having to revise certain presumptions underlying their political or economic thinking. Specifically, I'm thinking of those people who peddle myths about climate change, who cherry-pick data, who smear reputations, and who lie in order to push the idea that scientific consensus does not exist. The most pernicious, disgusting, and offensive of these are the conspiracy theorists. Those who have abandoned all attachment to reason because it comes into conflict with their narrow and stunted view of the world, and who would rather see innocent lives ruined rather than face up to the shortcomings in their own political views.

When you hear the word conspiracy theorist, I'm sure your first thoughts are of someone on the periphery of society; someone a little bit out there and more likely to harm themselves than others. What you probably wouldn't expect is to find their views plastered all over some of the most popular and reputable newspapers in the country and echoed by politicians around the world. My favourite conspiracy theory I will title the 'Socialist tree-hugger conspiracy,' and its principal advocate in the UK is James Delingpole. Truly, Delingpole is the Glenn Beck of British conspiracy theory. Somebody needs to get this man a chalkboard. In James Delingpole's head, the 'Socialist tree-hugger conspiracy' must have formed something like this: man-made global warming = regulations. Regulations? Bleurgh, me no like regulations. Me like libertarianism. Who like regulations? Socialists, bleurgh. And who else don't me like? Hippies. Man-made global warming = Socialist tree-hugger conspiracy. This is essentially the argument behind his book, Watermelons, and is actually quite funny, if you can manage to laugh through the tears.

The cheek of this man, so afraid to question his unswerving faith in libertarianism, to then accuse the rest of the world of bad faith for approaching the scientific evidence behind climate change in a rational and open-minded manner. If he paused for two minutes to actually examine the claims he is making about the validity of climate science, he'd be forced to admit that he is wrong. It is testament to his pig-headedness that he will not do this. Contrary to what he might say, there is a ton of evidence to support the theory of anthropogenic global warming, just as there are rather striking reasons why we should try to diversify our energy production. It's not hard to find. Every single warming myth, and every single distortion of the facts, has been quickly and easily debunked. Instead, however, Delingpole conceives of a world in which the Met Office, the WWF, Friends of the Earth, Nasa, the BBC, the governments of Australia and New Zealand, China, South Korea, CNBC, David Cameron, and the vast majority of British people, sat down one evening and decided to hatch an elaborate plot to secure the destruction of Western civilisation. That's not free thinking, that's delusional.

And that is perhaps what troubles me most about climate change denial. The sheer irrationality of it. If you or I were to run around shouting about government conspiracies on the street, we'd likely be politely taken away and provided with medical attention. If you spout conspiracy about climate change, however, you can be rewarded with a regular spot in the Telegraph.

Sustainability and Efficiency

The way in which the world reacts to climate change now will resonate for many years to come, so it is particularly important that the right response is forthcoming. But what is the right answer to rising temperatures and how do we best change the way we produce energy? Clearly there is much disagreement on this question. Some advocate a transfer of emphasis from certain fossil fuels, like coal and oil, to gas, suggesting this could be a short term measure to slow warming. The problem remains, however, that natural gas also produces a pretty hefty amount of CO2 and doesn't necessarily solve our problems long term. Not to mention the fracking debate, which remains a controversial sticking point. Could nuclear be the option? Well potentially yes (a new generation of fast reactors is certainly an exciting prospect), but, as disasters like Fukushima have illustrated, this is an incredibly emotive issue. Nuclear does produce low-carbon energy, but comes with certain long-term strings attached. Not to mention the fact that it's incredibly expensive and takes an awful long time to put into action.

On the face of it, the only widely agreeable solution is renewable energy. Technologies that harness natural forces and convert them into electricity, creating, in theory, an unlimited and cheap supply of power. The hitch comes when we discuss the efficiency of these technologies. The right-wing press has lost no time in vilifying solar and wind power for being both too expensive and ineffectual in the battle against climate change, which, let's remember, many of its contributors would suggest is a fictitious enterprise. The Daily Mail has been censured on numerous occasions for exaggerating the economic impact to energy bills that renewable technologies entail, and the Policy Exchange think tank was taken apart by Mark Lynas for making similar claims with regard to offshore wind. Even on the left, praise for renewable technology is not unlimited. George Monbiot, for example, is strongly opposed to government FITs for the solar industry, which he sees as a middle class subsidy.

The economic argument is heading down a blind alley. The technology may or may not be expensive, but, quite frankly, it is a price well worth paying. If the government truly believes in renewable energy then it should make the case for it in the strongest possible terms and confront any qualms about cost head on. What it should also ensure is that where costs are high, the poorest in our society, currently preyed upon by unscrupulous energy providers, are not the ones that foot the bill. At the same time, let's not forget how much governments worldwide spend on subsidies for high carbon fossil fuels. Given the choice, I know where I'd prefer my money to go.

Leaving the money aside, the other criticism regularly levelled at renewables is one that suggests that the technology itself is inefficient, and, therefore, its environmental contribution is negligible. Not only do I believe this to be wrong, I also think it demonstrates considerable short-sightedness. I'm not saying that all renewables are perfect, and a great deal of thought needs to go into which technology is most appropriate to any given situation, but their efficacy cannot be denied. South Korea just sent a very clear message to the world by announcing plans for a 2.5 GW offshore wind park. That represents a contribution of around 70% of today's total offshore capacity, and is the equivalent to the power produced by two coal-fired power stations. Try telling the Koreans that wind power is useless.

What I also find objectionable about this line of reasoning is that it fails to take account of the fact that renewable technology is still a young and developing market. Right-wing free-marketeers always claim that the most efficient and innovative way to pursue growth and development is to leave the market well alone to adapt to changes. Technologies will develop, obstacles will be overcome, and prosperity will ensue. However, it seems abundantly clear that the market alone cannot adjust at the rate required. What does become clear from attacks on renewables is that often those same free-marketeers are not prepared to embrace their own rhetoric, and instead attack as inefficient an industry that has barely begun to show its potential. If the history of capitalism teaches us anything, it is that new technologies take time to reach their optimal performance. Where there is demand, competition and investment, however, you can bet your house that efficiency will increase.

I think the renewables market is actually exemplary of the very best that capitalism can offer. Not a free-market free-for-all, or a State-run plan, but a cooperative engagement that combines individual innovation with collective backing, both financially and politically. It is when these elements are combined that capitalism is at its most human and admirable. Far from turning our backs on this fledgling industry, we should be proud that it is moving, ever more efficiently, in the right direction.

Climate Change and Paradigm Shifts

I wanted to expand on a theme I have developed over a number of blogs and root a little deeper into the question of why anthropogenic climate change is so vigorously attacked by many on the right wing, and why Libertarians in particular are such staunch enemies of the 'green lobby,' as they call it. In doing so, I also want to touch on wider questions of political discourse, and specifically the absolute presuppositions that govern our political thinking.

Absolute presuppositions are the fundamental suppositions of any body of thinking. Take causation. If I were a doctor treating you for an ailment and I told you that your headache was caused by exposure to the sun and a lack of fluids, you might reply "well, how do you know that?" I could then explain the way in which heat and lack of fluids impacts on your body resulting in a particular reaction, in this instance a headache. If you continued to question me as to why this was the case, I might have to resort to saying that this is the way that that is the way in which you provide a diagnosis. You find a cause (sun and lack of fluids) and you match it to the symptom (headache) or vice versa. If you were to press me further on why this must be so, I would be liable to get testy and tell you in no uncertain terms that that is the way it is: a cause always produces an effect. What we have hit upon here is an absolute presupposition. It is a supposition which admits of no further questioning. No matter how much you pushed me, I would not be able to go beyond this presupposition in my thinking.

What is particularly important about absolute presuppositions is not their being true or false (after all plenty of theories of causation exist), but simply the fact that they are supposed. Nor does their non-verifiability impact upon the soundness of the thinking that emanates from them. The key is simply their logical primacy.

R. G. Collingwood, the British historian and philosopher, was the first to describe absolute presuppositions in these terms, arguing that the much-maligned discipline of metaphysics had been widely misunderstood by his contemporaries and was in fact an investigation into the absolute presuppositions held by certain people in particular historical contexts. Moreover, he maintained that as context alters over time so too do the absolute presuppositions that frame our thoughts. These revolutionary changes are usually accompanied by fierce resistance from those with vested interests in existing absolute presuppositions. One only needs to look at the history of any number of scientific disciplines to know this to be true.

Thomas Kuhn's Structure of Scientific Revolutions, likewise, applies the idea of paradigm shifts to scientific discourse. Paradigms he describes as the arena in which 'normal science' can proceed. That is, a science rooted to a particular principle or theory. The shift occurs when a rival theory gains popularity and exposes the previously hidden difficulties of a prior paradigm. A paradigm shift, just like a change in absolute presuppositions, is often accompanied by violent rhetorical and physical struggle. Again, the importance with Kuhn's theory does not necessarily lie in the truth or falsehood of paradigms, but in their acceptance by a body of researchers. This is the way in which scientific revolutions occur.

Kuhn's theory, although ostensibly directed to the scientific community, has gained particular traction with modern intellectal historians. Particularly those who are keen to disavow the idea of eternal and unchanging truths like justice, or the ideal State. What we learn most obviously from Kuhn and Collingwood is that there is no such thing as eternal truths; we cannot compare Hobbes' Leviathan to Plato's Republic and decide which is the 'best' form of governance. Propositions or theories propounded in a particular historical circumstance must always be looked at as an attempt to address contemporary concerns, and it is only in their ability to address questions posed by a particular context that we can judge their success or failure.

Now this is the interesting bit. Discussions over anthropogenic climate change, whilst not particularly revolutionary in the scientific world (in terms of the paradigms under which the sciences operate), are causing seismic shifts in political discourse simply because of the very real threat posed to the various absolute presuppositions governing political theory. This is because acceptance of AGW involves a reappraisal of views on private property, individual liberty and the power of the state. This necessarily impinges upon the core beliefs of right-wingers, and might go some way towards explaining why some see AGW as a Socialist-led conspiracy.

Again, we can here draw out just why this problem remains such a pressing one for Libertarians. Take Nozick, for example. His idealised political system was not premised, as with Conservatives or other liberals, on the idea of the social contract emerging from a state of nature, but was rather founded on the principle of individual rights themselves. Here he inherits a position first presented by J. S. Mill, who claimed that the State's sole function should be to ensure that the liberty of individual citizens was protected. If it were to impinge upon that liberty, it had to have a very strong reason for doing so, such as protecting one individual from the violence of another. The problem confronted by Libertarians is that acceptance of climate change necessarily involves redrawing the limits of individual liberty, which necessarily involves empowering the State. Now, contrary to what I have said in the past, this does not necessarily have to be fatal to the whole Libertarian enterprise, but it does demand some serious thinking.

Kuhn suggested that there were two ways in which a paradigm shift could be brought about: through the popularity of a new theory, or through a discovery that challenges the basis of an existing paradigm. The discovery of climate change (if we can call a science with over 100 years of history a discovery) has dramatically forced a reappraisal of political priorities and principles, and this discovery has been greeted with the customary rhetorical violence that any fundamental shift entails. So whilst the numbers of those who doubt the reality of AGW is increasing, this should not detract from the majority who have accepted the fact. The angry minority is but the last throes of a dying paradigm.

Guardians of the Future: Enshrining Sustainability

A common complaint for those with environmental concerns is that rising temperatures punish most severely those that play little or no part in contributing to man made global warming. Droughts and food crises brought about through severe weather, as well as massive inequality of resources, do not harm Western industrialists but the most vulnerable people of our planet. At a time when the economy takes centre stage, it is easier to ignore the seemingly more distant threat of environmental calamity. Indeed, the problem for most people remains one of distance. One can ignore the danger to the future of our planet simply because we imagine it will not affect us for a number of years. Likewise, we are often guilty of contributing little more than sympathy when confronted with news of starvation in East Africa, simply because it is not occurring on our doorstep. How do we overcome this empathetic hurdle and make people more accountable for the decisions they make today?


Rupert Read, former Green Party candidate and environmental philosopher, recently launched a report in the House of Commons entitled 'Guardians of the Future: A Constitutional Case for representing and protecting Future People' with the aim of addressing this very important issue. Namely, how do we make today's politicians accountable to those that are unable to excercise their democratic right to vote. Read is principally concerned, as the report title suggests, with the generations that will come after us in the UK, but I think his idea could also be applied more widely to questions of global diplomacy.


To give a brief synopsis: Read suggests the creation of a third branch of governance to sit above the House of Lords that would be charged with the responsibility of protecting the interests of 'future' people. By future people, Read presumably means anyone and everyone in the future, so, if you are reading this, you too are a future person (or at least you will be). But, barring catastrophe, there are obviously more future people who are yet to be born, and it is the interests of these people in particular that we should be concerned.


As for the make-up and powers of this government body, it would be comprised of members of the public, selected in much the same way as a jury would be today, and would range in size anywhere between 7 and 144 people. The random selection process, Read maintains, would help alleviate the problem of partisanship which might arise if the group were selected by election or appointment. It would also, one would hope, represent a real cross-section of the population helping to undermine the possibility of demographic interests. The principle power of this body would be the ability to veto legislation found to be potentially harmful to future people, but it would also be granted the pro-active right to initiate legislation as well as review existing legislative practice. On a national level at least, there would be no higher authority.


Although the words sustainable or sustainability do not appear frequently within the report, it is abundantly clear that Read's intention is to enshrine them in our constitutional framework. For this alone, we should greet this report as a starting point for debate. The mere fact that an idea of this scope was launched in the House of Commons, in the presence of 3 MPs who all offered comments, is reason enough to be encouraged. With this in mind, I would like to offer up my own comments and criticisms but preface them with thanks to Rupert Read for bringing this debate to the very heart of governance in this country.


A great number of people will inevitably greet this report with a degree of scepticism, and may dismiss it without due consideration as unrealistic in its goals. Indeed, in terms of practical application, there are many things that would need to be ironed out. One potential danger is ensuring that the guardians chosen would be able to deal competently with complex legislation covering a diverse range of subjects. But, I think a more pressing concern would be the limits to the power of this body. Obviously, the key motivation for Read is environmental, but he leaves the door open for guardians to make decisions regarding any kind of legislation whatsoever. The difficulty here lies in utilising the democratic power of the guardians, whilst ensuring that important legislation is not unduly held up. One can imagine a question of economic policy, defence, or natural resources being one of potentially enourmous consequence for future people, but it may be less clear cut when it comes to questions of civil law, transport, education and so on. Who decides the limits of this power, and can the guardians be compatable with effective governance?


Moreover, Read's report seems to overlook the fact that, just like ourselves, future people will be formed of many, and not always complementary, interests, and legislating for them will be as challenging, indeed more so, than legislating for those currently involved in the democratic process. For example, it is not too difficult to imagine a particular piece of legislation being potentially beneficial for people in the immediate future, and even for some time after that. But it could quite easily be the case that a decision taken in the best interests of those future people could drastically or even fatally undermine the prospects of future people further down the line.


This brings me to what I think is the crux of the matter. No matter how good our intentions when we set out to protect the future, we are still in all essentials dealing with something that is by definition unknowable. We simply cannot account for unexpected future developments, and the recent financial crisis is proof enough of that. Likewise, we cannot possibly fully comprehend the consequnces of the decisions we make today. For this reason, the legislation we impose on the future can only ever be drawn from our understanding of the present, which is itself made up of our past experiences. Does this not mean, therefore, that when a body of guardians sets out to represent the interests of the future they are not in fact representing the will of future people so much as the idea of the future that present people extrapolate from the world around them? Because of the simple fact of the unknowability of the future, is it not an impossibility to represent its interests? This difficulty is one of huge importance to anyone with aspirations of building a sustainable society.


Another very real difficulty with implementing any kind of guardians-style body is the need to convince present people about the value of protecting future people. This is particularly difficult when more often than not this could involve a sacrifice on their part in order to improve or at least not damage the prospects of future people. As we have already learnt through debate on the question of climate change, this is not an easy sell. Cleverly, I think, Read cites Burke as the modern exponent of sustainability, noting that he insisted on fully representing the interests not only of the present, but of the past and future as well.

"[Society is] a partnership not only between those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are not born."

Burke, as I have noted in earlier blogs, is key to the environmental debate, but support of his suggestion that we should 'partner' the people of the future also rests on accepatance of his wider theory of human nature, in which he insists upon the vital importance of protecting social instritutions. Burke is hugely accountable for modern conservative views in Britain and the US, and his insistence that the interests of society outweigh the freedom of the individual gained great traction following the French revolution, an event he characterised as driven by selfish interest. Indeed, if one were to accept Burke's view of the primacy of society, it becomes far easier to accept the need to protect the interests of future people. If the future is not considered, then there is no way to guarantee the continued prosperity of present institutions.

However, the problem remains that the most vocal contestants of environmental protection reject Burke's view of human nature, prioritising instead the liberty of the indivdual over the concerns of wider society. When you confront this school of thought, particularly in its fiercely free-market manifestations, with the prospect of giving up the founding principle of individual autonomy in order to safeguard future people, they are liable to reject you outright with a few choice words. Time will tell whether this will be fatally destructive for libertarianism, but, as it stands, Read's ideas, and his appeal to Burkean conservatism, can simply gain no traction here.

Whilst I agree that there is a vital need to counteract the viscious short-termism of much of modern day politics by enshrining the concept of sustainability in legislation and governance, I find it difficult to fully endorse Read's idea as it exists. If a body of guardians were to be initiated, I could only view such an institution as a means to an end rather than a goal within itself. The key aim for anyone who wishes to build a sustainable society should be to demonstrate that sustainability is a good in itself, not something that has to be forced upon us to save us from ourselves. Rather than the existenace of a failsafe mechanism to ensure sustainable legislation, it should be a necessary requirement that any piece of legislation should be premised on the concept of sustainability itself. That said, until we throw down the false idols of short-term interest, what other option do we have to protect our future?