In the realm of energy, Britain's peculiar relationship with public ownership is a fascinating and somewhat paradoxical tale. The nation's energy landscape, once a beacon of state-led innovation, has morphed into a complex web of private interests and public subsidies, leaving consumers grappling with soaring energy bills and a fragile system. This is the story Arthur Downing unravels in his thought-provoking book, 'Power and the People: A History of British Energy'.
Downing, an economic historian and director of strategy at Octopus Energy, delves into the past 200 years of Britain's energy evolution, revealing how ownership and control have shaped the industry's trajectory. His central argument is that public ownership, far from being a relic of the past, holds the key to a more sustainable and equitable energy future. But why is Britain so hesitant to embrace its own public ownership, especially when it comes to energy?
The author takes us on a journey through four distinct phases, from the late 1880s to the present day. In the early days, public and municipal ownership dominated, with local companies embedded in regional networks. The 1920s and 1940s saw the government step in as a major player, building infrastructure like the Central Electricity Board (CEB) and the National Grid. This period of state-led development was efficient and effective, but it ended with the wave of privatisation in the 1980s.
The current system, Downing argues, is a 'zombie' - a dysfunctional hybrid of public and private interests. For instance, the recent acquisition of UK Power Networks by Engie, a French state-owned company, highlights the intricate relationship between public and private entities. While the British media often portrays such deals as a threat to national security, Downing points out that the French government's involvement in Engie has a tangible financial benefit for its citizens.
This leads to the crux of Downing's argument: the British public is comfortable with public ownership when it's controlled by foreign powers, but not by its own state. This paradoxical attitude raises a deeper question about the nation's relationship with its history and its willingness to embrace innovative solutions. The author suggests that this mindset has hindered Britain's ability to transition to a more sustainable energy model.
Downing advocates for a mutualised system, where neither nationalisation nor privatisation reigns supreme. This approach, he believes, would foster mutually beneficial relationships between capital, citizens, and the state. Public corporations would own the networks and generation, while councils and community schemes would take ownership stakes in local infrastructure. Households, in turn, would own solar panels, batteries, and electric vehicles, and be compensated for the flexibility they provide.
The author's proposal is not just a theoretical concept; it's a call to action. He suggests that Andy Burnham's VAT cut on energy bills is a good start, but the focus should shift from producers to consumers and investors to citizens. This includes removing levies that fund environmental and social programs, and rethinking the role of regulatory institutions like Ofgem. Downing believes that by embracing public ownership and mutualisation, Britain can build a more resilient and equitable energy system, one that serves the needs of its citizens and the planet.
In conclusion, 'Power and the People' is a compelling read that challenges the conventional wisdom surrounding public ownership. Downing's expertise and enthusiasm shine through as he navigates the complex history of Britain's energy industry. His proposal for a mutualised system is a bold and innovative solution to the energy crisis, one that demands attention and further exploration. As the world grapples with the urgent need for energy transitions, Downing's book offers a fresh perspective and a call to action for a more sustainable and equitable future.
