The Shrinking Economy: Who Decides What We Can Afford?

The Question Nobody in Government Is Asking

Tim Watkins, writing in The Consciousness of Sheep on 2 November 2026, concludes his article A Matter of Taxonomy by raising what may be the most important economic question of our time.

In a world without economic growth, how should we allocate the remaining surplus energy and material resources?

It is a remarkable question because it challenges almost everything upon which modern economic and political thinking is based.

For more than two centuries, governments have assumed that economic growth would provide the means to improve living standards, finance public services, repay debts and support an expanding population.

Political arguments have largely concerned the distribution of the benefits of growth. The underlying assumption that growth would continue has seldom been questioned.

But what happens when growth ends? More importantly, what happens when the economy begins to shrink?

This is no longer simply a theoretical question. There is growing evidence that the economic arrangements developed during the industrial era are becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. Yet governments continue to behave as though another period of economic expansion is just around the corner.

The Importance of Surplus Energy

Watkins identifies surplus energy as the foundation of economic activity. Energy is not simply another commodity which can be bought and sold. It is what enables everything else to happen.

Agriculture, manufacturing, transport, construction, healthcare and communications all depend upon energy. But what matters is not merely the amount of energy available. It is the energy remaining after we have obtained, processed and delivered that energy.

This surplus is what enables a society to support activities beyond the immediate necessities of survival.

During the industrial era, enormous quantities of relatively inexpensive fossil-fuel energy made possible an extraordinary expansion of economic activity. The result was a society characterised by increasing specialisation, centralisation, technological complexity and dependence upon long supply chains.

It also enabled the development of the welfare state, modern medicine, mass education and the enormous administrative structures of government.

But as the energy cost of obtaining energy increases, the surplus available to support these activities comes under pressure. The consequences are not necessarily immediate shortages of energy. They are more likely to appear initially as rising costs, declining affordability, falling profitability and the inability to maintain existing infrastructure.

The End of the Growth Economy

Our financial arrangements were developed for an expanding economy. Businesses borrow money in the expectation that future revenues will enable them to repay their debts. Governments borrow in the expectation that future economic activity will generate sufficient taxation to meet their obligations.

Households take on mortgages and other debts on the assumption that their incomes will remain adequate. All of these arrangements become increasingly difficult when the real economy ceases to expand.

A government may still report growth in monetary terms. But higher prices and increased borrowing do not necessarily mean that more useful goods and services are being produced. Indeed, the opposite may be happening.

A shrinking economy can continue to display increasing monetary transactions while delivering declining material prosperity. This distinction is fundamental.

The question is no longer simply how to generate more money. It is how to maintain essential activities with diminishing real resources.

The Problem of Allocation

This brings us back to Watkins’ final question. Who should decide how the remaining surplus energy and material resources are allocated?

At present, much of this allocation takes place through markets, prices, borrowing and government expenditure. Those with the greatest purchasing power can generally command the largest share of available resources. But purchasing power is not necessarily related to social usefulness.

Consider the difference between maintaining a local water supply and constructing another large entertainment complex. Or between providing basic healthcare and operating an energy-intensive financial trading system. Or between producing food locally and transporting discretionary consumer goods halfway around the world.

In an expanding economy, society may be able to support all these activities simultaneously. In a shrinking economy, choices become unavoidable. Some activities will have to contract so that others can continue.

This is the central political and economic challenge of the coming decades.

Why Central Government Cannot Provide the Whole Answer

Modern governments have become accustomed to managing economic activity through taxation, borrowing, regulation and public expenditure. These mechanisms can influence the distribution of money. They cannot create additional surplus energy or physical resources.

Nor can they readily determine the particular needs and capabilities of every locality. A government department in London cannot know, in sufficient detail, the available land, water, skills, workshops, buildings and practical requirements of thousands of different communities.

Even if it possessed this information, attempting to direct every activity centrally would create an enormous administrative burden.

There is also a deeper problem. Centralised systems themselves consume substantial resources. They require offices, communications networks, transport, specialist personnel, computer systems and increasingly expensive infrastructure.

As the economy shrinks, the cost of maintaining these systems becomes a growing burden upon the productive activities they are intended to support.

The question is therefore not simply how central government should distribute diminishing resources. It is whether some of the activities presently organised centrally should instead be undertaken locally.

Localism Provides Another Approach

Localism begins with a different question. Rather than asking how a national economy can continue expanding, it asks how people within a locality can provide for their essential needs using the resources available to them.

This changes the whole approach to economic organisation. Food production, water supplies, basic repairs, personal care, education and many other activities can be organised much closer to the people who depend upon them.

The advantages are not limited to shorter transport distances. Local knowledge becomes more important. Existing buildings and equipment can be reused. Skills can be shared. People can exchange services without every activity requiring a formal employer, employee or financial intermediary.

A retired carpenter may repair a neighbour’s furniture. A gardener may exchange vegetables for help maintaining a roof. A small workshop may repair equipment which would otherwise be discarded. A local bakery may supply nearby households using ingredients produced within the locality where practical.

These activities may contribute little to conventional measurements of economic growth. Nevertheless, they provide genuine economic value. Indeed, as the formal economy becomes less affordable, such activities may become increasingly important.

A Different Understanding of Work

Another important feature of Watkins’ article is his criticism of the conventional division between employers and employees. The modern economy contains many different arrangements.

There are employees, self-employed tradespeople, small business owners, part-time workers, people combining employment with benefits, and others undertaking informal work. As the industrial economy contracts, these distinctions may become even less useful.

We may see increasing numbers of people supporting themselves through several different activities rather than depending upon a single employer. Some may grow food, undertake repairs, provide care or exchange services. Others may establish small businesses operating from their homes.

This does not mean that conventional employment will disappear. It means that employment may cease to be the principal means by which every household obtains the goods and services it needs.

The informal economy could become an increasingly important part of everyday life. Such an evolution would also challenge the existing systems of taxation, benefits and economic measurement.

Governments may find themselves attempting to regulate an economy which is becoming progressively less dependent upon the institutions they understand.

Essential and Discretionary Activities

A shrinking economy will force a distinction between essential and discretionary activities. Food, water, shelter, sanitation, basic healthcare and essential communications must receive priority.

Many other activities, however desirable, will become increasingly difficult to support. This does not mean that all discretionary activities will disappear. Rather, their scale and complexity will be determined by what society can afford after essential needs have been met.

The distinction also helps us understand why localism is likely to emerge progressively rather than through a single political decision. As centrally organised services become unaffordable or unreliable, people will seek alternatives.

Some alternatives will be commercial. Others will be cooperative or informal. What matters is that the activity continues, even if the institutional arrangements surrounding it change.

The Two Levels of Economic Organisation

Localism does not require the disappearance of national government. Certain functions will remain national because their nature demands coordination over large distances or across many localities.

Defence, major rail connections, strategic healthcare, national communications and the administration of justice are examples. But many everyday requirements can be provided locally.

The challenge is to distinguish between activities which genuinely require national organisation and those which have become centralised simply because economic growth made centralisation affordable.

This distinction could become increasingly important as resources diminish. A smaller national economy would concentrate its remaining capacity upon essential functions which cannot sensibly be provided locally.

Localities would assume greater responsibility for everyday production, services and mutual support. This would not necessarily be the result of a planned political reform. It could emerge naturally as existing arrangements become too expensive to maintain.

The Political Problem

There is a fundamental difficulty facing today’s political leaders. They have been educated, trained and elected within a system which assumes that economic growth is both desirable and achievable.

Their policies are designed to encourage investment, increase productivity, expand employment and generate additional taxation. They have little experience of governing an economy which must operate with diminishing material resources.

Acknowledging this would require a profound change in political thinking. Instead of promising more of everything, governments would have to explain why some activities could no longer be supported.

Instead of encouraging consumption, they might have to encourage conservation, repair and reuse. Instead of concentrating economic activity in ever-larger organisations, they might have to facilitate smaller and more local arrangements.

Perhaps most difficult of all, they would have to accept that national government cannot solve every problem. For politicians accustomed to announcing national programmes and ambitious targets, this would be an uncomfortable admission.

Yet the alternative may be continued promises of growth accompanied by progressive deterioration in the services and infrastructure upon which people depend.

The Evolution Towards Localism

There is another way of understanding what is happening. The industrial economy developed because the conditions necessary to support it existed.

Abundant surplus energy enabled increasingly complex economic and social arrangements. As those conditions change, the arrangements themselves must change. This is not necessarily a matter of political ideology. It is a process of adaptation.

Just as living organisms adapt to changing environmental conditions, economic and social systems must adjust to changes in the resources available to sustain them.

Some institutions will survive. Others will become smaller, simpler or disappear. New forms of cooperation and production will emerge.

Localism can be understood as one possible outcome of this process. It offers a means of reducing dependence upon costly centralised systems while making better use of the resources and capabilities available within each locality.

It is not a guarantee of prosperity or an escape from the difficulties of economic contraction. But it may provide a more practical foundation for maintaining essential living standards than continued dependence upon growth which can no longer be assumed.

The Question That Really Matters

Tim Watkins ends his article by asking how society should allocate the surplus energy and material resources remaining to it. That is surely the right question.

But perhaps it needs to be taken one stage further. Rather than asking only who should allocate these resources, we should ask at what level should the decisions be made?

Some decisions must remain national. Many others could be made within the localities where people live, work and understand their own circumstances. This is the essential argument for localism.

The industrial era encouraged us to organise economic life from the top down because abundant energy made large, complex systems possible. A shrinking economy may increasingly favour arrangements which develop from the bottom up.

The political challenge is not to design every detail of this future. It is to recognise what is happening and remove unnecessary obstacles to people organising their own essential activities.

The most important question is no longer how we can restore economic growth. It is how we can organise society to live successfully without it.

And that may be the question which finally brings localism into the centre of political debate.

Inspired by Tim Watkins, “A Matter of Taxonomy”, The Consciousness of Sheep, 2 November 2026.

431. When Complex Systems Fail: The Spanish Railway Disaster and the Future of Infrastructure

The railway disaster in Spain, in which 69 people were killed, raises questions that extend far beyond the immediate causes of the collision. It raises a much larger question about the ability of modern industrial societies to maintain the increasingly complex systems upon which they depend.

According to a report in The Daily Telegraph on 31 October 2026, the collision followed failures involving several railway systems. The main problem concerned the computerised safety system intended to prevent trains from colliding. There were also communication faults, electrical disturbances and failures in operating procedures.

An investigation is continuing, and the precise sequence of events and responsibilities has yet to be fully established. Nevertheless, the reported circumstances illustrate a problem that is becoming increasingly important.

Our infrastructure has become so complicated that maintaining its reliability may be approaching the limits of what we can afford.

The Problem of Complexity

Modern railways are very different from those of a century ago. Their operation depends upon computers, telecommunications, electrical equipment, sophisticated signalling systems and highly specialised maintenance.

Each element may be reliable in isolation. But the reliability of the whole system depends upon all the elements working together.

When one component fails, others are supposed to compensate. When several fail together, the consequences can become unpredictable.

The Spanish report suggests that the computerised train protection system had experienced 170 interruptions during the preceding year. The transport minister described this as normal.

That statement is revealing. A system may experience frequent faults and still operate safely, provided its protective arrangements work correctly. But it also raises the question of whether repeated interruptions are becoming accepted as an unavoidable feature of increasingly complicated infrastructure.

There is a further difficulty. When automated systems fail, human operators must sometimes take control. Yet those operators may have become accustomed to relying upon automation. The more sophisticated the equipment, the more difficult it can become to understand what is happening when something goes wrong.

The Ageing Infrastructure Problem

Across Britain and much of Europe, a great deal of infrastructure was constructed during the period of industrial expansion following the Second World War.

Roads, bridges, railways, hospitals, water systems, electricity networks and public buildings are now reaching ages at which substantial renewal is required.

Maintenance is not the same as renewal. Repairing a component may extend its useful life, but eventually the entire installation may need replacing.

The financial consequences are enormous.

During the expanding industrial economy, new infrastructure could be financed from the expectation of rising prosperity, increasing tax revenues and growing demand.

That assumption is becoming increasingly difficult to sustain.

If the economy is entering a prolonged period of contraction, governments face a problem for which there is no easy solution. They must maintain an enormous inheritance of infrastructure while the resources available to support it become increasingly constrained.

And this is happening at precisely the time when much of that infrastructure requires expensive renewal.

The Energy Behind the System

There is another dimension which is often overlooked.

Every railway, computer, signalling installation and communications network depends upon energy.

Energy is required not only to operate equipment but also to manufacture replacement components, maintain the tracks, transport materials and support the industries that supply the railway.

The modern industrial economy was built upon the availability of abundant, relatively inexpensive energy.

As the energy cost of obtaining energy rises, the surplus available to support the wider economy comes under pressure.

This is central to the work of Dr Tim Morgan and his Surplus Energy Economics analysis.

It means that the financial cost of maintaining infrastructure is only part of the problem. Behind the financial figures lies the physical requirement for energy, materials and skilled labour.

Governments can borrow money. They cannot borrow physical energy from the future.

The Danger of Interdependence

The Spanish railway disaster also illustrates the growing interdependence of modern systems.

A railway no longer depends simply upon rails, locomotives and signalling equipment. It depends upon a much wider industrial network.

Replacement electronic components may be manufactured thousands of miles away. Software requires specialist support. Telecommunications depend upon functioning electricity networks. Maintenance requires trained personnel and equipment supplied by other industries.

A failure elsewhere in this network can eventually affect the railway itself.

The same applies to hospitals, water supplies, banking, food distribution and telecommunications.

The greater the interdependence, the greater the possibility that a disturbance in one part of the economy will spread into others.

This does not mean that sophisticated technology is inherently unsafe. Properly maintained systems can be exceptionally reliable. The difficulty arises when the complexity of the system exceeds the resources, skills or organisational capacity available to maintain it.

The Shrinking Economy Changes Everything

For many years, governments have assumed that economic growth would provide the resources needed to maintain and expand public infrastructure.

That assumption underpins almost every long-term investment programme.

But what happens when the economy stops growing?

More importantly, what happens if it is already beginning to shrink in real terms?

The consequences are not necessarily immediate or dramatic.

Initially, maintenance may be postponed. Equipment may remain in service longer than intended. Staff numbers may be reduced. Inspections may become less frequent. Replacement programmes may be deferred.

Each decision may appear reasonable when considered separately.

Together, however, they can gradually reduce the resilience of the entire system.

This is particularly dangerous because deterioration may remain largely invisible until something goes wrong.

A bridge may appear sound. A signalling system may operate normally. A water main may continue supplying water.

Then a failure occurs, revealing weaknesses that have accumulated over many years.

The Spanish collision should not be attributed to economic contraction without evidence. But it provides a tragic reminder of what is at stake when safety-critical systems fail.

Can We Afford to Maintain Everything?

This may become one of the most important questions facing Britain.

We have inherited an industrial infrastructure constructed on the assumption that prosperity would continue to increase.

But maintaining that inheritance may require more resources than a shrinking economy can provide.

There will have to be choices.

Some infrastructure will remain essential at national level. The principal railway network, major hospitals, electricity transmission, strategic roads and national communications will still require central organisation.

But it may become impossible to maintain every existing facility to the standards established during the age of expansion.

The alternative is not simply to allow everything to deteriorate.

It is to reconsider how society is organised and how essential services are provided.

The Relevance of Localism

This is where localism becomes important.

Localism is not a proposal to replace national railway safety systems with local arrangements. Nor does it mean abandoning the benefits of modern engineering.

It means recognising that not every activity needs to depend upon an increasingly expensive national or international system.

A locality that produces more of its own food reduces its dependence upon long-distance transport.

A locality that can maintain its own water supply reduces its exposure to failures in distant infrastructure.

Local workshops capable of repairing equipment reduce dependence upon complicated international supply chains.

Local health and social care can reduce some of the pressures placed upon large central institutions.

And a locality in which more people work close to home reduces the need for extensive daily commuting.

These changes do not eliminate the need for national infrastructure. They reduce the extent to which everyday life depends upon it.

They also make it possible to organise some services using simpler systems that require fewer resources to operate and maintain.

Simplicity as a Form of Resilience

During the industrial era, technological progress was frequently associated with greater sophistication and complexity.

But greater complexity is not always an advantage.

A simple system that can be understood, maintained and repaired locally may prove more valuable than a sophisticated system dependent upon distant specialists and components.

This does not mean returning indiscriminately to old technology.

It means judging technology by its usefulness, reliability, maintainability and demands upon scarce resources.

There is a distinction between technological sophistication and practical resilience.

A highly sophisticated system may be efficient when everything works correctly. A simpler system may be more resilient when conditions deteriorate.

The challenge is to find the appropriate balance.

The Evolution of a Different Society

The Spanish railway disaster is a tragedy. Its causes must be established through proper investigation, and the lessons applied to railway safety.

But it also invites us to consider a wider problem.

Modern industrial society has developed systems of extraordinary complexity. Those systems have delivered enormous benefits, but they require a continuing flow of energy, materials, money and specialist knowledge.

If those resources become increasingly constrained, maintaining the existing arrangements becomes progressively more difficult.

The response cannot simply be to demand more investment. Investment itself depends upon the availability of real resources.

Nor can we assume that another generation of computers and automated systems will necessarily solve the problem. New technology can improve safety and efficiency, but it can also introduce new dependencies and maintenance requirements.

We may be approaching a period in which the ability to simplify becomes as important as the ability to innovate.

This is one reason why localism is likely to emerge, not primarily as a political programme, but as a practical response to changing economic circumstances.

As large central systems become more difficult to maintain, people will increasingly have to find ways of providing essential services closer to home.

The process will be uneven. Some national systems will survive, others will contract, and new local arrangements will develop alongside them.

The industrial era taught us how to construct systems of extraordinary complexity. The coming age may require us to learn how to live successfully with much less complexity.

And that may prove to be one of the most important aspects of the evolution towards localism.


Based on the report “Four system failures led to Spain train crash, report finds”, by Lily Shanagher, The Daily Telegraph, 31 October 2026. The wider discussion of economic contraction, infrastructure and localism is an interpretation rather than a finding of the railway investigation.

430. Growth Has Ended. Now We Must Face the Consequences.

For several years I have been writing about the end of economic growth and the emergence of localism. During much of that time, it has been a rather lonely occupation.

Almost everyone, from politicians and economists to business leaders and the media, has continued to assume that economic growth will return. Recessions are temporary. Financial difficulties can be overcome. New technology will create new prosperity. With the right policies, Britain can once again enjoy the rising living standards to which we have become accustomed.

I have increasingly come to believe that this entire way of thinking belongs to the past.

Economic growth has ended. What we are experiencing is not a temporary interruption to an expanding economy, but the early stages of a long period of economic contraction.

Now, importantly, I find that others are increasingly reaching similar conclusions.

Nate Hagens and the End of Growth

Nate Hagens, whose work on energy, ecology and the economy I have followed with interest, has published a discussion entitled 7 Ways Growth Ends.

Hagens has long argued that our economic system is fundamentally dependent upon energy and natural resources. Money, financial markets and government policies cannot escape the physical limits of the world in which we live.

His work, particularly through The Great Simplification, examines the consequences of humanity’s dependence upon an economic system that requires continual expansion.

The significance of his latest contribution is not simply that growth might eventually end. It is that we must confront the mechanisms through which the growth-dependent system reaches its limits.

For me, this represents an important change in perspective.

We no longer need to ask only what might happen if growth ends. We need to examine what is already happening as the foundations of growth weaken.

The Economy Is a Physical System

The central misunderstanding of modern economics is its treatment of the economy primarily as a financial system.

Governments measure economic performance through GDP. They adjust interest rates, taxation and public expenditure in the hope of encouraging investment and consumption.

Yet none of these activities creates the energy or physical resources upon which economic activity ultimately depends.

The industrial economy developed because humanity discovered how to exploit enormous quantities of concentrated energy, particularly coal, oil and natural gas.

These energy sources allowed machines to replace human and animal labour. They supported the development of factories, mechanised agriculture, global transport, modern medicine and the enormous expansion of cities.

For more than two centuries, increasing access to usable energy supported an extraordinary expansion of economic activity.

But there is a fundamental difference between the availability of energy and the availability of surplus energy.

Energy must first be expended to obtain energy. As the cost of obtaining and delivering usable energy rises, less remains available to support the wider economy.

This is the importance of the Energy Cost of Energy, or ECoE, emphasised by Tim Morgan and others.

An economy can continue to produce and consume large quantities of energy while having progressively less surplus energy available to support prosperity.

That distinction is essential to understanding what is happening today.

The Evidence Is Already Around Us

We do not have to wait for an official announcement that the era of growth is over.

The consequences are increasingly visible in everyday life.

In Britain, public services are struggling with rising costs and competing demands. Local authorities face severe financial pressures. Roads, bridges, water systems, hospitals and other essential infrastructure require investment that is increasingly difficult to finance.

Businesses are finding it harder to remain profitable. Households face continuing pressure on their disposable incomes. Discretionary activities, including hospitality, leisure and non-essential retailing, are particularly vulnerable.

The labour market is changing. Established employment arrangements are becoming less secure, while opportunities for small-scale, informal and self-employed activity may become more important.

Meanwhile, governments continue borrowing in the expectation that future economic growth will make today’s financial commitments affordable.

These developments do not individually prove that growth has permanently ended. But taken together, they are consistent with an economy encountering increasingly severe physical and financial constraints.

The mistake is to treat each problem as an isolated difficulty requiring its own solution.

I believe they are different expressions of the same underlying change.

Why Growth Cannot Simply Be Restarted

Political leaders continue to promise renewed economic growth.

They propose investment in infrastructure, new factories, artificial intelligence, renewable energy and other technologies.

Some of these developments will undoubtedly provide useful benefits. But technological progress does not automatically produce greater prosperity across the economy.

Every new factory requires materials and energy. Every data centre needs electricity, cooling and maintenance. Every new transport system must be built, operated and eventually replaced.

The question is not whether these activities are technically possible.

It is whether society can afford the resources required to sustain them.

An economy experiencing declining surplus energy cannot necessarily restore prosperity by constructing more energy-intensive infrastructure.

Nor can borrowing indefinitely overcome physical limitations.

Financial promises are claims upon future production. If that production cannot expand as expected, the promises become increasingly difficult to honour.

The result is growing pressure upon governments, businesses and households alike.

This is not a problem that can be resolved simply by electing a different government or changing economic policy.

It is a change in the physical conditions upon which the industrial economy was built.

The End of Growth Changes Everything

Once we accept that the economy is contracting, many of our assumptions about the future must change.

We can no longer assume that governments will have steadily increasing tax revenues. We cannot assume that all existing infrastructure can be maintained indefinitely. We cannot assume that every public service can continue to be delivered through increasingly large and centralised organisations.

Nor can we assume that the employment patterns of the industrial era will survive unchanged.

The implications extend far beyond economics.

They affect where people live, how food is produced, how water is supplied, how people travel, how communities organise themselves and how essential services are provided.

Above all, they challenge the belief that bigger organisations, larger markets and greater centralisation necessarily represent progress.

In a contracting economy, the opposite may increasingly be true.

Localism Is Already Beginning to Emerge

This is where my argument about localism becomes particularly important.

For years, localism has generally been discussed as a desirable alternative to excessive centralisation. I believe it is becoming something much more fundamental.

Localism is emerging as a practical response to the declining affordability of the industrial economy.

As centralised systems become increasingly expensive to maintain, people will have to find ways of meeting more of their essential needs closer to home.

Food production provides an obvious example.

The existing food system depends upon extensive transport networks, industrial agriculture, chemical fertilisers, refrigeration, packaging and large retail organisations.

It is remarkably productive, but also dependent upon energy, capital and complex supply chains.

As those systems come under increasing pressure, local food production becomes more important.

Gardens, allotments, smallholdings, orchards, local bakeries and small food-processing businesses can contribute to a more resilient food supply.

Similar changes can occur in other activities.

Small workshops can undertake repairs that would otherwise require expensive replacements. Local arrangements can provide some care and practical assistance. Informal exchanges of goods and services can supplement declining monetary incomes.

These activities will not replace the entire industrial economy. National systems will remain essential for defence, major transport links, specialised healthcare and other functions.

But the balance between national and local provision is likely to change substantially.

Instead of expecting centralised organisations to provide almost everything, localities will increasingly have to provide more for themselves.

This is not a romantic return to the past.

It is an economic response to changing circumstances.

The Importance of Recognising What Is Happening

Perhaps the greatest obstacle to preparing for this future is our continued attachment to the expectation of growth.

Governments are elected on promises of greater prosperity. Businesses borrow and invest on the assumption of expanding markets. Pension systems depend upon future income and investment returns. Property values reflect expectations about future purchasing power.

The entire financial structure of modern society has been built around expansion.

Acknowledging that this expansion has ended is therefore profoundly uncomfortable.

It challenges political promises, business plans, financial expectations and personal ambitions.

It is much easier to believe that another technological breakthrough or another economic policy will restore the familiar pattern.

But delaying recognition does not prevent the consequences.

Indeed, it may make them worse.

If governments continue investing scarce resources in infrastructure designed for an expanding economy, they risk creating further financial burdens that future generations will struggle to support.

If communities continue waiting for national solutions, they may lose valuable opportunities to develop their own capabilities.

The sooner we recognise the change, the more opportunities we have to respond constructively.

From Isolation to Recognition

I began by saying that writing about the end of growth has sometimes been a lonely occupation.

That has been particularly true because the argument is so different from the assumptions that dominate public discussion.

When almost everyone expects growth to resume, suggesting that the industrial era has reached its limits can appear unnecessarily pessimistic.

But pessimism is not the same as realism.

I do not welcome economic contraction. It will create serious difficulties, particularly for people who already have little financial security.

Nor do I imagine that localism will emerge without hardship, conflict or mistakes.

My argument is simply that we must begin with an understanding of the circumstances we actually face.

The growing contribution of thinkers such as Nate Hagens, Tim Morgan and others is important because it helps establish a different understanding of the economy.

Their analyses are not identical, and they do not all claim that permanent global economic contraction has already been demonstrated. But they share a recognition that energy, ecology and physical resources place fundamental limits upon economic expansion.

Hagens has recently described a possible future of resource-constrained economic depression, while exploring what evidence might change his assessment. natehagens.substack.com+1

For me, the evidence has become sufficiently compelling to change the question I ask.

I am no longer asking whether economic growth might end.

I am asking how society will reorganise itself now that the growth-dependent industrial economy is encountering its limits.

The Future Is Already Arriving

History rarely announces the beginning of a new era.

The changes usually become apparent gradually, through the failure of old arrangements and the emergence of new ones.

The industrial era did not begin on a particular day. Nor will its ending be marked by a single announcement.

Factories will continue operating. International trade will continue. Governments will continue promising growth. New technologies will continue appearing.

But beneath these familiar activities, the economic foundations are changing.

Increasingly, the question will not be how to expand an existing system, but how to maintain essential functions with fewer resources.

That is a very different challenge.

It calls for smaller organisations, simpler arrangements, greater cooperation and a renewed importance for the locality.

It also calls for a different understanding of prosperity.

Prosperity in the future may depend less upon the quantity of goods and services we consume and more upon our ability to meet essential needs reliably, affordably and close to home.

A productive garden, a functioning local workshop, a dependable water supply and neighbours willing to help one another may become more valuable than many of the activities currently counted as economic progress.

This is the future towards which I believe we are already moving.

The task is no longer simply to warn that the era of growth may be coming to an end.

It is to recognise that the change is under way, understand its consequences and begin building the local arrangements that will enable us to live within the resources available to us.

For me, that is what localism has always been about.

And I am increasingly encouraged that I am no longer alone in recognising the direction in which we are heading.

428. Synthetic Gas: Could This Be an Energy Breakthrough for Localism?

A New Approach to Energy

An interesting development in British energy technology has emerged which could have considerable implications for the future of localism.

According to an article in The Daily Telegraph on 27 October 2026, a young British company, Rivan Industries, believes it has developed a means of producing synthetic natural gas more cheaply than Britain can import conventional gas.

The company’s founder, Harvey Hodd, claims that its technology could eventually produce gas at prices below anything Britain has experienced in recent decades.

This is an extraordinary claim. If it proves correct, it could have important consequences for the future of Britain’s energy supplies. But perhaps the most interesting aspect is not simply the possibility of cheaper gas. It is the way in which that gas would be produced.

Instead of relying upon enormous centralised installations, imported fossil fuels and international supply chains, Rivan proposes relatively small manufacturing units powered by locally generated solar electricity.

That immediately raises an interesting question. Could this technology become part of the emerging localism economy?

Making Gas from Air, Water and Sunshine

The principle is surprisingly straightforward, although the engineering involved is sophisticated.

Rivan’s system uses three principal ingredients: electricity generated by solar panels, water collected from rainfall, and carbon dioxide extracted from the atmosphere.

Electricity is used to separate water into hydrogen and oxygen. The hydrogen is then combined with carbon dioxide in a chemical reactor to produce synthetic methane, the principal constituent of natural gas.

When this methane is subsequently burned, it releases the carbon dioxide that was originally extracted from the atmosphere.

Provided that the electricity and other processes involved have sufficiently low emissions, the resulting gas could have a very low net carbon footprint.

There is another considerable advantage. Synthetic methane can potentially be used in much of the existing natural gas infrastructure.

Gas boilers, industrial furnaces, gas-fired power stations and other equipment could continue operating without the wholesale replacement that would be required by some alternative energy systems.

In a shrinking economy, where the capital available for replacing infrastructure is likely to become increasingly scarce, that could be particularly important.

The Significance of Small-Scale Production

Perhaps the most interesting feature of Rivan’s approach is the relatively small size of its production units.

The company describes plants roughly the size of shipping containers, situated alongside solar installations.

This is quite different from the conventional energy industry, which has generally favoured large generating stations, refineries, pipelines and national distribution networks.

The possibility of producing gas in relatively small installations introduces an entirely different way of thinking.

Imagine a locality with its own solar electricity generation, rainwater collection and a small synthetic gas production plant.

Such an installation might provide fuel for essential local activities, including food processing, workshops, communal kitchens and other services requiring reliable heat.

Some of the gas might be stored for periods when solar electricity is unavailable.

Rather than depending entirely upon distant energy suppliers, the locality could meet part of its own energy requirements.

This would not necessarily mean complete energy independence. But it could mean considerably greater resilience.

And resilience is likely to become increasingly important as the national economy continues to contract.

Energy Storage Could Be the Greatest Advantage

One of the principal weaknesses of solar electricity is that it is intermittent.

Electricity is produced during daylight hours, and production varies enormously with the weather and the seasons.

Batteries provide one means of storing electricity, but their manufacture requires considerable quantities of materials, industrial processing and capital.

Synthetic methane offers another possibility.

Surplus solar electricity could be converted into gas and stored for subsequent use.

Gas is particularly useful because it can provide heat directly, without first having to be converted back into electricity.

It could also be used to generate electricity when necessary, although that involves further energy losses.

For localism, the possibility of storing energy over longer periods could be valuable. A locality might accumulate gas during periods of abundant sunshine and use it when conditions are less favourable.

There is, however, an important qualification. Converting electricity into hydrogen and then methane involves substantial energy losses. Directly using solar electricity will generally be more efficient.

The attraction of synthetic gas is therefore not that it creates additional energy, but that it provides a potentially useful way of storing and transporting energy which would otherwise be difficult to use.

What About the Energy Cost?

There is a fundamental question which must not be overlooked.

My argument for the emergence of localism rests on the declining availability of surplus energy to support the industrial economy’s complexity.

Producing synthetic methane does not overcome the laws of thermodynamics.

Every stage of the process consumes energy. Manufacturing the solar panels, electrolysers, reactors, compressors and other equipment also requires materials, energy and industrial infrastructure.

The critical question is therefore not simply how cheaply the gas can be sold.

It is how much useful energy remains after accounting for the energy required to manufacture, operate and maintain the entire system.

In other words, what is its Energy Cost of Energy?

Cheap solar electricity could make synthetic methane commercially attractive. But cheap electricity does not automatically mean a high surplus-energy return.

Rivan’s claims are promising, but they remain to be demonstrated at commercial scale. The company’s proposed prices, production rates and profitability are projections rather than established achievements.

This distinction matters greatly.

A technology can be financially successful while remaining dependent upon a large and complex industrial economy for its manufacture and maintenance.

A Possible Bridge Between Two Economies

This brings us to what may be the most important implication for localism.

I have argued that the future economy is likely to consist of two increasingly distinct parts.

The first will be a much reduced national economy, retaining those essential activities which cannot readily be undertaken locally.

The second will be a growing local economy, providing food, water, housing, maintenance, care and other necessities from resources available within each locality.

Synthetic gas production might provide a useful connection between these two economies.

Initially, the equipment would almost certainly have to be manufactured by specialist national industries. Its components would depend upon sophisticated engineering, electronics and chemical processing.

But the resulting installations might be operated at a much more local level.

A locality would not need to manufacture every component itself to benefit from having a local energy supply.

This is an important distinction.

Localism does not necessarily mean that every locality must become completely self-sufficient. It means that essential activities should increasingly be organised and provided at the smallest practical scale.

A small synthetic gas installation could fit that principle, provided its operation, maintenance and eventual replacement remained affordable.

Could It Support Local Food Production?

One particularly interesting possibility concerns food.

In a shrinking economy, maintaining food production and distribution will become an increasingly important priority.

Local bakeries, dairies, small food-processing workshops and communal kitchens all require heat.

Gas is especially convenient for many of these activities because it can provide controllable heat using relatively simple equipment.

Synthetic methane might therefore become a useful local fuel, particularly where direct electricity, wood or other locally available fuels are unsuitable.

There could also be applications in drying agricultural produce, preserving food and providing limited heating for essential buildings.

However, producing synthetic gas would require a substantial supply of electricity. It would be unlikely to make sense to use scarce solar electricity to manufacture gas where that electricity could perform the same task directly.

Localities would need to establish priorities.

The first priority should always be to reduce unnecessary energy consumption. The second should be to use available energy as efficiently as possible.

Synthetic gas might then provide a valuable supplementary resource.

The Problem of Winter

There is another difficulty which is particularly relevant to Britain.

Solar electricity production is greatest during the summer, whereas demand for heating is greatest during the winter.

A locality relying upon solar-powered synthetic methane would therefore face the problem of producing enough gas during the warmer months to meet at least some of its winter requirements.

That would require substantial storage facilities.

Although methane is easier to store than hydrogen in some respects, storing large quantities of gas is neither simple nor inexpensive.

Small installations would also need suitable land, water supplies, maintenance arrangements and trained operators.

The technology might consequently be better suited to groups of neighbouring localities than to individual villages.

Co-operation between localities could provide some of the advantages of scale without recreating the entire complexity of today’s centralised energy system.

Could It Replace Imported Gas?

Rivan’s immediate ambition is to supply industrial customers and feed synthetic gas into the existing national network.

That may prove commercially attractive, particularly for industries that cannot readily replace gas with electricity.

But replacing Britain’s entire natural gas supply would be an altogether different undertaking.

The quantity of electricity required would be enormous, because the synthetic gas contains less useful energy than the electricity consumed in producing it.

There would also be substantial requirements for solar installations, equipment, land and capital.

It would therefore be premature to imagine that synthetic gas could preserve Britain’s existing levels of energy consumption indefinitely.

Indeed, that is not the objective of localism.

The emerging local economy will need to operate with considerably less energy than today’s industrial economy. It will depend upon simpler activities, shorter supply chains, more human labour and greater use of resources available locally.

The real question is whether synthetic gas could help provide a modest but reliable supply of fuel for those essential activities that cannot easily dispense with it.

An Opportunity, Not a Rescue

There is a tendency whenever a promising energy technology appears to regard it as a possible rescue for the existing economic system.

We have seen this with nuclear fusion, hydrogen, advanced batteries and many other developments.

Each is presented as a means of continuing economic growth without fundamentally changing how society operates.

But the central problem is not simply finding new ways of producing energy.

It is the growing difficulty of maintaining an economy whose infrastructure, institutions and consumption patterns require enormous quantities of affordable surplus energy.

Synthetic methane does not remove that difficulty.

Nevertheless, Rivan’s approach is interesting precisely because its proposed production units are relatively small and potentially decentralised.

If the technology proves economical, durable and capable of operating with modest maintenance requirements, it might become one of the useful tools available to the emerging local economy.

It could be especially valuable during the period when national industrial capacity remains sufficient to manufacture the equipment, but localities are increasingly taking responsibility for their own essential services.

The Localism Perspective

The most significant aspect of this development may not be the prospect of producing the cheapest gas on Earth.

It may be the possibility of producing useful fuel close to where it is needed, using locally available renewable energy, water and atmospheric carbon dioxide.

That is a fundamentally different proposition from importing fossil fuels across oceans and distributing them through an enormously complex international system.

But there is a condition.

The technology must be judged not merely by its commercial profitability, but by its contribution to the long-term ability of localities to support themselves.

Can the equipment be maintained locally? How long will it last? Can replacement components remain available? Does it provide sufficient surplus energy to justify the resources invested in it?

And, above all, can it continue to operate as the wider industrial economy becomes smaller?

These are the questions that matter.

Localism will not emerge because some remarkable new technology makes the old economy sustainable. It will emerge because people increasingly need to provide their essential requirements closer to home.

If Rivan Industries succeeds, its technology could make a useful contribution to that process.

Not by preserving the energy-intensive way of life to which we have become accustomed, but by helping smaller, more self-reliant localities meet some of their essential energy needs.

That would be a much more significant achievement than simply making cheap gas.


427. Rising Complexity Cannot End in Any Other Way

CONTINUATION OF THE URBAN ERA demands a constant growth in energy and material inputs – what could possibly go wrong with that?

The Honest Sorcerer Oct 2
 
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gray heavy equipment on vast land during daytime
Complexity and scale. Image via Unsplash

An article published on un-denial got me thinking about the feedback mechanisms which could push global civilization towards a rapidly accelerating simplification. Not because some evil / stupid / fill-in-the-blank people started a war, but because all technological civilizations are inherently unsustainable, and because they must come to an end no matter what.

The Predicament

The manufacturing, use and decommissioning of all our modern technologies require abundant mineral and energy flows. Non-renewable resources are at the core of every product and service we use: from all the metal and plastic parts in your car to the very screen you are reading this essay on. Powering these devices with fossil fuels or “renewables” is but a secondary question to the core of our technological and ecological predicament: the impossibility of maintaining a high-tech industrial civilization on a dwindling resource and ecological base.

Naysayers, of course, treat this as “Malthusian” thinking, as if slapping a label on an idea could automatically negate it. The hand-waving over resource depletion and treating it as a mere technical issue is, however, nothing but a form of denial. See, in order to dismiss the uncomfortable truth of our civilization’s predicament one has to reject a number of well established and proven trends:

  • the logical fallacy of endless recycling
  • the rapidly worsening energy and material return on investment, and
  • the exponentially rising cost of complexity.

A recent study on Critical minerals and the energy transition is a case in point. It comes very close to prove the core thesis of the civilizational predicament, then botches it by setting the input parameters absurdly high and the tolerable level of energy return on investment absurdly low… Disregarding, all the time, the very strong practical connection between fossil fuels and mining—together with the already failing economics of both metals and fossil fuel extraction; not to mention the ecological damage civilization does to this living planet. Despite providing an excellent analysis on recycling, rising energy investment and complexity, the authors fail to properly implement these trends in their models. Well-well, by focusing on theoretical maximum values and not considering the practical realities of resource extraction, one can create all the models they want, yet could still fall short of providing a practical guide to the future.grade to paid

A Reality Check

Let’s start with recycling, my favorite thought-stopper when it comes to dealing with the existential dread techno-utopians feel over having to return to a much lower level of technology use in the future. Because let’s face it: when it comes to high emotions and the money involved in proving that we can have our cake and eat it too, we often have to deal with a deep underlying emotion: fear. It’s not unlike becoming aware of our mortality and the mind over reality transition every one of us is subject to (yours truly included). It’s not hard to see why it’s impossible to preach endless technological progress, together with the increases in human well-being it ostensibly brings about, and coming to grips with the reality of technological development being self-terminating by necessity.

Psychological factors aside, let’s return to recycling and its role in civilization’s self-termination. (I know it’s a harsh word, but it is what it is.) The core theme to understand here is that recycling materials is not—and can never be—perfect: metals are often mixed with other metals in alloys, or exist in such small quantities deeply-buried in complex assemblies that reclaiming them would be totally uneconomical. Think of all the germanium trapped in the silicon wafers of chips, hair-thin copper wiring sheathed in thick plastic, tiny coils, resistors, capacitors, or the metals thrown out with the many too-cheap-to-bother household appliances from defunct hair dryers to broken food processors and toasters.

As someone who worked two decades in and around manufacturing, supply chains and product development I can testify: products are not designed, built and made with 100% recycling in mind in any company around the world. Much of the metals—rare or common—thus end up on a scrap-heap or get melted down into a very low quality alloy used in making steel rebar. Has the material been recycled by weight? Sure, but did we got the copper, cobalt, nickel etc. back? No, these valuable metals are now lost forever, mixed irretrievably with a range of other metals and buried deep into concrete. Relying on recycling alone would thus rapidly deplete the pile of reclaimable materials, and after a few rounds would see us materially bankrupt.

Mineral extraction and primary metal production, therefore, cannot stop. In fact, it has to constantly increase in scale even as mining companies are forced to fight an uphill battle with depletion—necessitating the deployment of ever more complex and energy hungry methods and technologies. For a visual illustration compare an artisan copper mine a few centuries ago (or a present day cobalt mine in Congo) where people collect high grade, high metal content rocks (ores) using a pickax and a basket, and a modern day open pit mine where massive trucks haul hundreds of tons of dirt containing less than 0.5% metal. Yes, it is not a typo: modern mining operations blast, dig, haul and crush rocks containing a pound of pure metal per a ton of dirt.

There is no way you can do this without massively increasing the material, technological and energy investment compared to a much simpler operation. Sure, this constant rise in complexity brings with it the creation of new jobs and skills, but also the need to use more complex, bigger, heavier machinery and computer systems to monitor and coordinate these activities (now assisted with AI). All of which is contributing to an ever higher energy consumption. Problem is, that mined ore grades (expressed in % of metal content) degrade over time, as we harvest all the high quality stuff first and are forced to move on to the next, lower grade batch. And as ore grades decrease, the energy, emissions and water intensity required to obtain that same dumb pound of metal will continue to grow. As Calvo et al. found in 2016:

“Analyzing only copper mines, the average ore grade has decreased approximately by 25% in just ten years. In that same period, the total energy consumption has increased at a higher rate than production (46% energy increase over 30% production increase).”

Oh, and by the way, the same is true to recycling as well: just as declining ore grades raise the energy demand of the primary production of metals, so does the energy demand of secondary production increase as the end of life recycling rate gets higher. In essence once we want to recycle anything else than the easy stuff—scraps from the shopfloor or pure copper wires as thick as your arm—we will have to go further and exert more energy to reclaim the metals we now simply throw away. As I alluded to above and as another study on the subject found: “Our empirical analysis of 48 metals shows that their recycling is mainly impeded by their low concentrations. In many cases, the metal concentration in end-of-life products is lower than that in natural ores.” Put in plain English: it’s much easier (and cheaper) to dig up low-grade dirt, than to collect, separate then recycle much of the metal in use out there. No wonder, the authors conclude: “The energy requirements for recycling copper from end-of-life products already reach the magnitude of those for primary production.” I have to put an emphasis on the word: already.

Source: U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, Producer Price Index by Commodity: All Commodities, retrieved from FRED, Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis

The process of falling metal concentration—both in mines and scrap-heaps—and the subsequent rise in complexity and energy demand per ton of metal processed gets reflected in prices as well. ‘Then rising prices will solve the issue’—comes the usual retort. And sure enough, so far they did—but there is a catch. Without an ever growing demand for these metals, high prices—needed to maintain production—would simply collapse, and see many mining operations going bankrupt. Rising complexity requires a forever-growing market to support the increasing cost of designing, manufacturing and operating new mining and recycling technologies. A growing market, on the other hand, requires a healthy, growing economy able to invest in new technologies (“renewables,” electrification, AI etc.) not to mention a strong (and growing) consumer base able to pay for it all.

It all looks good on paper, but what happens when the “consumer base” (a.k.a. the population) stops growing, begins to age, get impoverished by high energy prices, taxes and mortgages, or laid off?

Or what happens when the next round of innovation would require more resources and more energy than what the current system could physically provide? (Ahem, AI, anyone? Or how about mining in space? Fusion, perhaps?)

Or what happens when mining and drilling companies run out of “prime acreage”—where returns are high enough to justify investment—and what remains of our “infinite” resource base turns out to be wholly uneconomic to get? (Sure, 0.0068% of Earth’s crust is copper, but who in their right mind thinks that’s economic to go after?)

Or what happens when all those prior investments in technology, high living standards, stock market bubbles etc. can no longer be financed as interest rates rise and incomes dwindle?

Or what happens when wars begin to actively reduce energy and material flows worldwide?

Or what happens when global oil production—still powering 99% of all mining, agriculture, construction, militaries and transportation to this very day—stops growing due to all these reasons above and when the net energy derived of oil begins to fall?

Or, last but not least, what happens when all of these arrive at once?

The Cascade

Maintaining modernity requires constant growth. Not just from a financial standpoint, but from a purely technological perspective. Without an ever growing demand for raw materials, extraction collapses under the weight and cost of its rising complexity—not to mention the rising interest payments on debts taken on to finance it all. Modernity in general, and not just oil and gas, has become a giant Ponzi scheme—a bubble of truly epic proportions. Should it stop growing, it would immediately begin to contract—collapsing at a much faster rate than what it took for it to grow.

“Steady state” is mathematically impossible in such a system: technological civilizations either grow or shrink rapidly. As their highly concentrated, easy-to-get mineral and natural resources deplete, and as their industries need to adopt ever more sophisticated ways to go after lower and lower grade sources, complexity and energy consumption begins to rise faster than the amount of raw material and energy returned to society. And since energy production is a function of material output (either directly such as coal, or indirectly via “renewables”¹), there is less and less surplus left for the rest of society to share. Wealth and power begins to concentrate as a result, and the average citizen gets materially poorer by the day. This socioeconomic feedback loop then begins to erode demand through lower birth rates and falling disposable income. Falling demand and an exponential rise in energy and material costs then makes further material expansion impossible, till contraction sets in and demand is completely destroyed in a self-reinforcing feedback loop.

This won’t happen overnight though. Scarcity, resulting from the first round of production collapse, would begin to raise prices again, stopping the cascade before it could become complete. The weakest players break, then the “equilibrium” is restored. A round of consolidation follows: assets are bought up and production restarts, but cannot be restored completely as the market can no longer support it. Buffers and resilience suffer a blow, and never get restored. Jobs are lost forever. Consumer sentiment and spending get a hit. Demand begins to quietly decline, again.

‘But, but, but… What about financial stimulus?’ Can new money restore demand? I’m afraid not. Given the fact that most oil and metal production now comes from mines past their peak, and new projects are few and far between, stimulus would only lead to higher inflation. Which would then be used by mining and drilling companies to pay back their debt, buy back some of their own stocks, pay higher dividends or to merge with one-another. New exploration, however, would not commence as the number (and quality) of potential drilling sites, where returns would be reasonably high, is falling like a rock—for decades now. The US shale oil business is a case in point.

As a result of persistent resource depletion, wars and economic decline, annual metal and oil output is much more likely to fall, than to increase over the years and decades ahead. The resulting scarcity will then further erode buffers and resiliency, till enough bricks are knocked out to start another round of collapse. This time, though, the lack of raw materials and energy will likely trigger a cascade of company failures across multiple supply chains. You know the story: “For want of a nail, the shoe was lost. For want of a shoe, the horse was lost…” And so on, and so forth. Then, as enough productive capacity is destroyed, a new “equilibrium” sets in, again. Buffers and resilience suffer another blow, and never get restored. More jobs are lost forever. Consumer sentiment and spending gets another hit. Demand continues to fall without a sound. Rinse and repeat.

Years and decades into this process six continent supply chains begin to fragment into smaller, more manageable chunks. Products get localized. World trade diminishes. Demand for fuel and raw materials continue their long decline. Technological and societal simplification accelerates. Roles which were added on the way up are now erased. And just as the Romans towards the end of their civilization could not believe what’s happening to their mighty empire, the top scientific and political elite will continue to pin their hopes on the next big, shiny and new innovation ahead—not realizing that we’ve already entered the self-reinforcing loop of the great simplification.

Viewed from a distance, say two hundred years from now, the end of modernity will look like a fabled supernova explosion: one day it worked, the other day it all fell into ruins. On the ground, here and now, however, this all looks like a series of never ending crises: a global health crisis in one year, a war in the next—all against the backdrop of a relentless economic and ecological decline. On and on, for decades—just like in Rome. ‘But hey, this time it’s different!’ No it’s not. Not at all. ‘Is this the end of the world then?’ No, its the beginning of a new era, marking the onset of the de-industrial revolution.

426. Is South Africa Showing Us the Economic Future?

What KasiNomics Reveals About Localism and the Shrinking Economy

An Economy Growing Beneath the Surface

While economists, governments and financial institutions concentrate upon GDP, employment figures, investment and economic growth, another kind of economy is developing beneath the surface.

In South Africa, it is already enormous.

In his book KasiNomics Unleashed, GG Alcock describes a world of small traders, household businesses, food producers, repairers, transport operators and countless other enterprises operating outside much of the conventional corporate economy.

These businesses are not generally the products of government economic development programmes. They have emerged because people need to earn a living, obtain essential goods and provide services which conventional businesses often fail to supply.

What makes Alcock’s account particularly interesting is that it describes an economy developing from the bottom upwards.

This is remarkably close to the process which will become increasingly important as the British economy begins to shrink.

There is, however, a fundamental difference. Alcock sees the informal economy as an enormous opportunity for growth. I see similar developments as a likely consequence of the end of sustained economic growth.

The same economic behaviour may therefore arise for quite different reasons.

The Failure of Conventional Employment

For generations, economic development has been associated with the movement of people into formal employment.

People left the land, abandoned household production and entered factories, offices, shops and large organisations. Their livelihoods became increasingly dependent upon employers, wages and the wider monetary economy.

The process was made possible by abundant energy, industrialisation, mechanisation and increasingly complex systems of production and distribution.

It also created enormous dependence.

Most households in Britain today produce very little of what they consume. Food, clothing, heating, transport and almost every other necessity depend upon an elaborate network of businesses, infrastructure and public services.

Employment provides the money required to purchase these essentials.

But what happens when conventional employment becomes less available?

South Africa offers one possible answer.

People do not necessarily remain economically inactive. They find other ways of earning money, producing goods and exchanging services.

A person may repair machinery, prepare food, sell vegetables, transport goods or undertake building work without becoming an employee of a conventional business.

Some activities are registered and taxed. Others are informal or only partially recorded.

The distinction between employment and economic activity becomes increasingly important.

An economy can contain a great deal of useful work which is not adequately represented by conventional measures of employment and business activity.

What the South African Experience Reveals

Alcock describes an extraordinary variety of small enterprises.

Many require little capital. They operate from homes, backyards, roadside premises or small workshops. They serve customers who live nearby and whose requirements they understand.

Their strength lies in simplicity, flexibility and their ability to respond directly to demand.

They do not necessarily require expensive offices, elaborate management structures or extensive advertising.

Personal relationships and local knowledge are often more important.

This does not mean that such businesses are prosperous. Many provide only modest incomes and little financial security.

Nevertheless, they demonstrate something important.

Economic activity does not have to be organised through large corporations and conventional employment.

People can organise production and exchange for themselves.

That is one of the essential principles of Localism.

The Shrinking Economy Changes Everything

My argument is that the modern growth economy is approaching fundamental constraints.

Industrial civilisation developed through access to increasingly abundant and relatively inexpensive energy.

Coal, oil and natural gas made possible mechanised agriculture, mass production, motor transport, aviation, modern communications and the enormous infrastructure upon which society now depends.

But obtaining usable energy requires energy.

As the energy cost of obtaining energy rises, the surplus available to support the rest of the economy comes under pressure.

This is the importance of the Energy Cost of Energy, or ECoE.

The relationship is not simple. Technology, renewable energy, resource quality and investment all influence the outcome. Nevertheless, an economy cannot indefinitely increase its complexity without sufficient surplus energy to sustain it.

My expectation is that increasing energy and infrastructure costs, combined with debt and other resource constraints, will make sustained economic growth progressively more difficult.

The first effects will be experienced in discretionary activities.

Households struggling to afford food, energy, housing and essential services will reduce spending upon holidays, entertainment, restaurants, luxury goods and other non-essential purchases.

Businesses serving these markets will contract.

Employment opportunities will decline.

Governments will find it increasingly difficult to maintain public services and infrastructure at their present scale.

The result will not necessarily be a sudden collapse. It may be a long, uneven process of economic contraction, interrupted by temporary recoveries.

Within this process, people will have to find different ways of supporting themselves.

And this is where the South African experience becomes particularly interesting.

Localism Will Not Need to Be Invented

There is a tendency to imagine that a new economic system must be designed, legislated for and introduced by government.

I believe this misunderstands how Localism is likely to emerge.

It will develop because people find it necessary.

A redundant office worker may begin repairing household equipment.

A family with suitable land may grow vegetables for sale or exchange.

A former delivery driver may establish a small local distribution service.

A household may produce bread, preserves, clothing or furniture for neighbours.

Someone with practical skills may exchange labour for food, fuel or assistance.

Initially, these activities may supplement conventional employment.

As economic contraction continues, they could become increasingly important sources of livelihood.

There need be no grand plan.

People will respond to circumstances, using whatever resources, skills and opportunities are available to them.

That is precisely the kind of spontaneous economic organisation which Alcock describes.

Localism, in this sense, is not an ideology which must be imposed upon society.

It is a possible outcome of people adapting to changing economic conditions.

But There Is an Important Difference

South Africa’s informal economy still depends heavily upon the wider industrial economy.

A small shop may sell goods manufactured hundreds or thousands of miles away.

A local delivery business may depend upon imported vehicles, diesel, replacement parts and telecommunications.

A food trader may depend upon industrial agriculture, refrigeration and national wholesale distribution.

The enterprise is local, but much of its economic foundation is not.

This distinction becomes crucial in a shrinking economy.

If energy and transport become progressively more expensive, many existing informal businesses will face the same pressures as conventional enterprises.

Simply replacing a supermarket with a small shop does not eliminate dependence upon distant suppliers.

A more fundamental change will be necessary.

Production itself will have to become increasingly local wherever this is practical.

Food production, repair, maintenance, basic manufacturing, building materials and some forms of energy supply may need to be organised much closer to the people who use them.

The future local economy may therefore resemble the South African informal economy in its organisation, but differ considerably in the methods and resources it employs.

It may be less dependent upon manufactured goods arriving from distant factories.

It may use more human labour and less machinery.

It may make greater use of wood, water, locally available materials and equipment capable of being repaired rather than replaced.

Above all, it will have to concentrate upon essentials.

The Return of the Household Economy

One of the most important consequences may be a change in the economic role of the household.

Before industrialisation, many households were places of production as well as consumption.

Food was grown, preserved and prepared. Clothing was made and repaired. Tools and household equipment were maintained. Small workshops operated alongside domestic accommodation.

Industrialisation progressively separated employment from the home.

The household became principally a place where wages were spent rather than goods were produced.

Localism could reverse part of this process.

Homes, gardens, outbuildings and small plots of land may become economically productive once again.

This will not be possible for everyone. Many households lack land, suitable premises, equipment or the physical ability to undertake such work.

Consequently, the local economy will also need shared facilities, small workshops, communal growing areas and arrangements through which people can contribute according to their abilities.

The important change is that production and everyday life may become more closely connected.

What Happens to Government?

An expanding informal economy raises difficult questions for government.

Modern taxation and regulation have developed around identifiable employers, registered businesses, property ownership and recorded financial transactions.

An economy containing growing numbers of small, irregular and partly informal activities will be harder to administer through these arrangements.

This does not mean that taxation, safety standards or legal protections become unnecessary.

It means that the cost and complexity of applying existing systems may become increasingly difficult to justify.

Government may have to distinguish between functions which genuinely require national organisation and those which can be undertaken more simply within localities.

Defence, national communications, specialist hospitals, taxation and certain major transport systems will still require national coordination.

But much everyday economic activity may become increasingly local.

The essential task will be to allow useful grassroots enterprise to develop while maintaining proportionate safeguards.

An attempt to force every small household activity into the administrative structures designed for large businesses could discourage precisely the economic adaptation which society needs.

Will Britain Follow South Africa?

Britain is not South Africa.

The two countries have different histories, institutions, levels of wealth and social arrangements.

It would be misleading to assume that Britain’s future will simply reproduce South Africa’s present informal economy.

Nor should informal enterprise be romanticised.

Poverty, insecure incomes and the absence of social protection are serious disadvantages. The objective should not be to recreate these conditions.

Nevertheless, Alcock’s account provides an important demonstration of human adaptability.

When conventional economic arrangements fail to provide sufficient opportunities, people develop alternatives.

They make use of local knowledge, personal relationships, practical skills and modest amounts of capital.

They organise economic activity without waiting for instructions from government.

This is the process which I expect to become increasingly visible in Britain as the growth economy comes under pressure.

It may already be beginning, although changes in official employment statistics alone cannot establish that this is happening.

The Economy Beneath the Economy

Perhaps the most important lesson is that the formal economy is not the whole economy.

Economic activity is not confined to salaried employment, registered companies and transactions recorded in national accounts.

People can produce, repair, exchange and support one another through arrangements which conventional economic analysis does not always describe adequately.

In an expanding industrial economy, such activities may be regarded as marginal.

In a shrinking economy, they may become central.

The significance of KasiNomics Unleashed is therefore greater than its account of South African entrepreneurship.

It invites us to consider how economies organise themselves when conventional institutions do not provide sufficient livelihoods.

Alcock sees an enormous economic opportunity.

I see evidence of a capacity for grassroots economic adaptation which may become increasingly necessary.

The difference is one of circumstances and expectations.

What is developing alongside the conventional economy in South Africa may help us understand how a future local economy could emerge in Britain.

Localism will not necessarily arrive through government policy, economic planning or political reform.

It may arise gradually, locality by locality, as people discover that the most reliable way to obtain essential goods and services is increasingly to produce and exchange them closer to home.

The economy of the future may be smaller, simpler and less wealthy in conventional monetary terms.

But it need not be devoid of economic activity, enterprise or human ingenuity.

Indeed, the need for those qualities may become greater than ever.

And perhaps that is the most important lesson to be drawn from GG Alcock’s book.

425. When Government Tells Us to Stock Up: A Warning About Britain’s Fragile Economy

23 October 2026

A Remarkable Admission

Something significant has happened. The British Government is now advising households to keep emergency supplies of food, water, cash and other essentials in case the systems upon which everyday life depends suddenly cease to function.

Defence Secretary Wes Streeting has warned of possible cyber attacks, disruption to supply chains and attacks on essential infrastructure. The Government’s new Be Ready campaign recommends that households should be capable of surviving for at least three days without normal services.

The advice includes tinned food, bottled water, torches, batteries, radios and cash.

Streeting has urged people to be alert rather than alarmed. Nevertheless, the implications deserve serious consideration.

For decades, governments have encouraged us to place increasing reliance upon national and international systems of production, distribution, communications and finance. Now the Government itself is acknowledging that these systems might fail.

This is not evidence that collapse is imminent. It is, however, an official recognition of vulnerabilities that have been developing for many years.

The Vulnerability of Complexity

Modern Britain depends upon an extraordinary network of interconnected systems.

Food is produced, processed, transported, stored and distributed through lengthy supply chains. Supermarkets rely upon computerised ordering, electronic payments, refrigerated storage and frequent deliveries.

Electricity supports almost everything. Without it, water pumping, communications, banking, refrigeration and much of the transport system can be disrupted.

The internet has become essential to commerce, government, health services and ordinary household activities.

These systems are efficient when everything works. Their weakness is that the failure of one can quickly affect many others.

An attack upon electricity supplies can interfere with communications. Communications failures can interrupt payments. Payment failures can prevent purchases. Transport disruption can leave supermarkets without supplies.

What appears to be a collection of separate services is actually a single, highly interdependent economic structure.

The Government’s warning is an acknowledgement of this vulnerability.

Three Days Is Not Very Long

The recommendation to maintain three days’ supplies is sensible as an immediate precaution. But it raises an important question.

What happens on the fourth day?

A major disruption to electricity, communications or distribution could take considerably longer than three days to resolve.

If electronic payments failed, many shops would be unable to trade normally. If fuel distribution were interrupted, deliveries could be reduced. If electricity supplies became unreliable, refrigeration and food preservation would become increasingly difficult.

Households might possess sufficient food for several days, but that would not restore the systems required to replenish their cupboards.

There is a considerable difference between preparing for a temporary emergency and creating an economy capable of functioning through prolonged disruption.

The Government is addressing the first problem. Localism offers a possible response to the second.

The Shrinking Economy Makes Matters Worse

There is another dimension to this problem which receives much less attention.

Britain’s infrastructure is ageing. Roads, bridges, water systems, electricity networks, hospitals and public buildings require enormous expenditure merely to maintain their existing condition.

At the same time, the economy faces increasing financial pressures.

My argument is that these difficulties are not simply temporary consequences of poor management or unfortunate political decisions. They may reflect a more fundamental change in the relationship between energy, resources and economic activity.

As the energy and resources required to obtain further energy and resources increase, less surplus remains available to support the rest of the economy.

This is the problem of the rising Energy Cost of Energy.

If this process contributes to prolonged economic shrinkage, maintaining Britain’s increasingly complicated infrastructure will become progressively more difficult.

The country may find itself unable to afford the complexity upon which it has become dependent.

Cyber attacks and sabotage are immediate threats. Economic shrinkage could become a more persistent threat.

Both expose the same underlying weakness.

The Disappearance of Local Resilience

Not so long ago, many communities possessed a greater capacity to meet their own everyday needs.

There were local food producers, small shops, bakeries, repair workshops and numerous independent businesses.

Households often kept more food in store. Vegetable gardens were common. Some homes possessed alternative means of heating and cooking.

These arrangements were far from perfect. Living standards were generally lower, and communities remained dependent upon outside supplies for many things.

Nevertheless, the economy was less centralised.

Over the decades, much of this local capacity has disappeared.

Small businesses have been displaced by large organisations. Local food production has become increasingly specialised. Repair has frequently given way to replacement.

Employment has become concentrated in activities dependent upon complex national and international networks.

The result is an economy which may be highly productive under favourable conditions but vulnerable when those conditions change.

Localism as a Practical Response

Localism does not require every locality to become completely self-sufficient. That would be neither realistic nor desirable.

It does mean rebuilding the capacity to provide a greater proportion of essential goods and services close to where people live.

Food production is an obvious starting point.

Local growers, small farms, market gardens, orchards and community food enterprises could reduce dependence upon distant distribution networks.

Small bakeries, food preservation businesses and local storage facilities could strengthen this capacity.

Local repair workshops could extend the life of tools, machinery, clothing and household equipment.

Locally available energy, where technically and economically practical, could provide some protection against disruption to centralised supplies.

Above all, local economic activity could become less dependent upon distant organisations and complicated systems.

This would not eliminate vulnerability. But it could reduce the number of essential functions that fail together.

The Return of Local Knowledge and Skills

There is also a human dimension.

A resilient locality needs people who know how to grow food, maintain equipment, repair buildings, preserve produce and care for neighbours.

These activities require practical skills, experience and cooperation.

They also create employment.

As a shrinking economy reduces opportunities in discretionary activities and some centralised services, essential local work could become increasingly important.

The development of Localism would therefore be more than a response to emergencies.

It could provide the foundations of a different economic structure, one better suited to a world in which energy, money and material resources become more constrained.

Government Cannot Do Everything

There will always be important national responsibilities.

Defence, major communications networks, specialist hospitals, taxation and certain transport systems require national organisation.

But it is neither necessary nor desirable for every aspect of daily life to depend upon increasingly elaborate centralised arrangements.

A smaller national core, combined with stronger local economies, could offer a more durable structure.

The Government’s present advice places responsibility upon individual households to prepare for emergencies.

That is reasonable, but insufficient.

Resilience cannot be achieved simply by putting tins of food in cupboards.

It requires communities capable of continuing essential activities when wider systems are interrupted.

That capacity must develop largely from the bottom upwards.

A Warning of Things to Come?

Streeting’s announcement should not be interpreted as proof that Britain is approaching immediate economic collapse.

The threats he identifies are real possibilities, but their timing and severity remain uncertain.

Nevertheless, the warning has a wider significance.

For the first time in many years, the Government is openly asking people to consider how they would manage without some of the services they have come to regard as permanent.

That is a considerable change in official thinking.

It invites a much larger question.

If we are being asked to prepare for the temporary failure of modern economic systems, should we not also consider whether those systems can remain affordable and dependable indefinitely?

A shrinking economy would make that question increasingly urgent.

Conclusion: From Emergency Supplies to Localism

Three days’ food and water may help a household survive a short emergency.

They cannot provide lasting economic security.

That requires something more fundamental: the rebuilding of local productive capacity, practical skills, cooperation and the means of meeting essential needs.

The Government is beginning to recognise the vulnerability of the highly centralised economy.

424. Britain’s Electricity Grid: When Reputation Matters More Than Keeping the Lights On

The Growing Fragility of a System We Can No Longer Take for Granted

The investigation into Britain’s National Energy System Operator (NESO), reported by The Daily Telegraph on 20 October 2026, raises questions far more important than whether individual managers should retain their jobs. It exposes a disturbing weakness in the management of one of the country’s most essential services.

Electricity is no longer simply a convenience. Almost every aspect of modern life depends upon it. Water supplies, sewage treatment, communications, banking, food refrigeration, hospitals, heating systems and increasingly transport all rely upon a continuous supply of electricity.

Yet the people responsible for maintaining that supply appear to be operating under increasing pressure, while some of those managing them seem more concerned about public confidence than the warnings coming from their own engineers.

This is not merely a management problem. It is a warning about the increasing fragility of our national infrastructure.

What the Investigation Revealed

The independent investigation by Eversheds Sutherland did not substantiate the four specific whistleblower allegations concerning interference with operational decisions, improper record-keeping and breaches of operational constraints.

That distinction matters. The investigation did not establish that managers deliberately concealed an impending blackout.

Nevertheless, it identified serious problems within the organisation.

Control room engineers reported high levels of stress, difficulty in raising concerns and a significant gulf between those operating the electricity system and those managing it.

Some engineers believed that issuing warnings about electricity shortages could damage the organisation’s reputation. There was concern that the public presentation of events mattered more than the operational difficulties being experienced.

During the heatwave of June 2026, the system came under considerable pressure. Engineers considered issuing warnings associated with the possibility of emergency measures to reduce electricity demand.

There were disagreements about how serious the situation had become. Nevertheless, the investigation revealed an organisation in which technical staff did not always feel free to express their concerns.

For an electricity system operator, this is particularly troubling.

An engineer’s responsibility is to identify danger before it becomes a disaster. Management must ensure that warnings are heard, not discouraged.

The Difficulty of Managing Renewable Electricity

There is another issue underlying the investigation.

Britain is attempting to change its electricity generation system at remarkable speed.

Coal-fired power stations have disappeared. Gas-fired generation remains important, but government policy seeks to reduce its use substantially. Wind and solar generation are expected to provide an increasing proportion of electricity.

This creates difficulties that cannot be overcome by political determination alone.

Traditional power stations can generally be instructed to increase or reduce output within their operating limits. Wind turbines generate according to wind conditions. Solar panels depend upon daylight and weather.

Neither can be commanded to produce electricity when nature does not provide the necessary energy.

Battery storage, interconnectors, demand management and flexible generation can help to maintain the balance. But each has limitations, costs and dependencies.

The system must maintain sufficient supply every second of every day, including periods when renewable output is low and demand is high.

The investigation recorded engineers’ concerns that these changes were making their work more difficult. It did not independently establish that government net zero policy caused the June incident.

Nevertheless, their concerns deserve serious technical examination rather than political dismissal.

The Problem of Increasing Complexity

The modern electricity grid illustrates a wider problem facing the British economy.

We have created systems of extraordinary complexity which depend upon the successful operation of countless interconnected components.

Electricity must be generated, transmitted, distributed and consumed in precise balance. Increasingly, that balance depends upon sophisticated computer systems, forecasting, communications and market arrangements.

As conventional generating capacity is replaced, maintaining reliability may require additional equipment, storage, transmission capacity and control systems.

All this requires investment.

And investment requires something which Britain is finding increasingly difficult to provide: an affordable economic surplus.

The electricity system cannot be considered separately from the wider economy. Its costs must ultimately be paid by households, businesses or taxpayers.

The more complicated the system becomes, the greater the resources needed to build, maintain and operate it.

Complexity is not necessarily undesirable. But it must be affordable, manageable and resilient.

A system which performs impressively under normal conditions but struggles when circumstances become difficult is not necessarily a sound system.

The Economics of Energy

There is a fundamental distinction between producing energy and obtaining a useful surplus from that production.

Every energy system consumes energy and materials in its construction, operation, maintenance and eventual replacement.

The important question is how much useful energy remains available to support the rest of society after these requirements have been met.

This is the principle underlying Energy Cost of Energy, or ECoE.

As the energy and resource costs of maintaining the energy system rise, less of the economy’s productive capacity remains available for other purposes.

Britain is already experiencing severe pressures upon public finances, household incomes and business costs.

Electricity infrastructure must compete for capital, materials and skilled labour with hospitals, housing, roads, water systems and many other essential requirements.

Government can borrow money to finance investment. It cannot borrow the physical energy, materials or skilled workers required without obtaining them from somewhere.

Nor can borrowing eliminate the future costs of maintaining what has been constructed.

This is particularly important when considering the enormous expenditure associated with rebuilding the electricity system.

The question is not simply whether the technology works.

It is whether the country can afford to construct, maintain and replace the complete system over the long term.

The Danger of Centralised Dependence

The electricity grid is a remarkable engineering achievement. It allows power generated in one part of the country to serve consumers hundreds of miles away.

But this advantage also creates dependence.

A failure affecting the national system can have consequences far beyond the place where the original problem occurs.

Modern communities have lost many of the means by which they once provided for themselves.

Water is often pumped electrically. Food depends upon refrigeration and long-distance distribution. Communications require powered networks. Even gas and oil heating systems frequently depend upon electricity for their controls and pumps.

A prolonged interruption would therefore affect much more than lighting.

The consequences would spread through the economy, disrupting activities which might initially appear unrelated to electricity generation.

This is a characteristic of highly interconnected systems. Their apparent efficiency can conceal their vulnerability.

Localism and a More Resilient Future

The answer is not to abandon the national electricity grid.

Certain services will continue to require a national system. Major hospitals, railways, telecommunications, industry and other essential facilities cannot simply be supplied through isolated local arrangements.

But it is reasonable to question whether every household and locality should remain wholly dependent upon the uninterrupted operation of one increasingly complicated system.

Localism offers another approach.

Electricity could increasingly be generated and stored closer to where it is used. Solar panels, small-scale hydroelectricity where geography permits, appropriately located wind generation and local storage could contribute to essential needs.

Such arrangements would not eliminate dependence upon the national grid. Most domestic solar and battery installations, for example, cannot operate during a power cut unless specifically equipped for safe backup operation.

Nevertheless, properly designed local systems could provide a degree of resilience which is currently absent.

Equally important would be reducing the need for electricity.

Food grown locally requires less transport and potentially less refrigeration. Buildings designed to retain heat require less energy. Local workshops and essential services reduce dependence upon distant facilities.

Some activities could employ direct mechanical power, human labour or other appropriate forms of energy.

The objective would not be to reproduce the entire modern economy on a smaller scale.

It would be to ensure that essential needs could continue to be met when national systems became unreliable or unaffordable.

A Shrinking Economy Changes the Priorities

The Government’s energy ambitions are based upon an expectation that Britain can continue to mobilise the enormous resources required for technological change.

But what happens if the economy has entered a structural contraction?

If rising energy costs and declining affordability progressively reduce discretionary economic activity, maintaining existing infrastructure will become increasingly difficult.

The first priority must then be to preserve essential services rather than pursue ever more elaborate systems.

Electricity, water, food production, sanitation, basic healthcare and communications must take precedence.

This would require a change in thinking.

Instead of assuming that every technical difficulty can be overcome through additional investment, government would have to recognise the physical and financial limits within which the economy operates.

It would also require greater honesty about risk.

Engineers should not be expected to reconcile political ambitions with physical realities while being discouraged from expressing their professional concerns.

Conclusion: The Warning Behind the Investigation

The NESO investigation is significant not because it proved a deliberate cover-up. It did not.

Its importance lies in what it revealed about the relationship between technical expertise, management and political expectations.

The people responsible for keeping Britain’s electricity flowing reported stress, operational difficulties and a reluctance to raise concerns.

These are warning signs which should never be ignored.

The electricity system is becoming more complicated at precisely the time when the country’s financial capacity to maintain and expand its infrastructure is under increasing pressure.

There is a danger that political ambition, managerial optimism and public relations will obscure the physical realities of electricity supply.

Britain needs a national grid which is technically sound, financially sustainable and managed by people prepared to listen to their engineers.

But it also needs to reconsider the wisdom of making every essential activity completely dependent upon that grid.

The real lesson is that resilience must become more important than the appearance of progress.

In a shrinking economy, the ability to maintain essential services will matter far more than the ability to announce ambitious targets.

Localism cannot solve every problem facing the electricity system. But by reducing unnecessary dependence, encouraging local provision and giving priority to essential needs, it offers a practical direction for a society which can no longer assume that increasing complexity will always bring increasing security.

The engineers’ warnings should be treated as an opportunity to reconsider our priorities before a serious failure forces that reconsideration upon us.

423. Plum Village and Localism: Lessons in Living with Less

A Different Way of Living

In south-west France, a Buddhist community known as Plum Village has been demonstrating a way of life very different from that of modern consumer society. Founded in 1982 by the Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thích Nhất Hạnh, it is based upon simplicity, cooperation, mindfulness and respect for the natural world.

Plum Village is not an economic experiment in the conventional sense. It is a spiritual community. Nevertheless, its way of life has much to teach us about the future, particularly if we accept that the age of continuous economic growth is drawing to a close.

The central question is whether some of the principles practised at Plum Village might become increasingly relevant to ordinary communities as economic shrinkage makes present ways of living unaffordable.

The Importance of Simplicity

Modern economic thinking assumes that prosperity depends upon increasing consumption. More goods must be manufactured, more services purchased and more money spent. Economic growth has become an objective in itself.

Plum Village starts from a different position. It places greater importance upon the quality of human life than upon the accumulation of possessions.

People live comparatively simply. They share facilities, undertake everyday tasks together and place considerable value upon activities that require little expenditure.

This is not poverty imposed by circumstances. It is simplicity adopted voluntarily.

There is an important distinction here. In a shrinking economy, many people will have little choice but to reduce their consumption. What Plum Village suggests is that living with less need not necessarily mean living less well.

Indeed, some of the activities that make life satisfying, including companionship, gardening, cooking, walking and helping others, require relatively little commercial expenditure.

The Energy Question

The modern economy depends upon an enormous and continuous supply of energy. Fossil fuels have enabled machinery to replace human labour, food to travel thousands of miles and goods to be manufactured in one part of the world for consumption in another.

The problem is not simply the amount of energy available. It is the amount of surplus energy remaining after the energy sector has met its own requirements.

As the energy cost of obtaining energy rises, less surplus energy remains available to support the wider economy.

This is central to the argument for Localism.

Economic shrinkage will not affect every activity equally. Discretionary consumption is likely to come under pressure first, while the provision of essentials, including food, shelter, heating and care, must continue.

Plum Village offers an example of a community in which everyday life is organised around relatively modest material requirements.

It does not demonstrate that modern society can dispense with industrial energy. Its buildings, equipment, transport and other facilities still depend upon the wider economy. Nevertheless, it illustrates how human satisfaction can be less dependent upon material consumption.

Cooperation Instead of Competition

One of the most striking features of Plum Village is the importance attached to community life.

Cooking, cleaning, gardening and maintaining the surroundings are shared activities. Work is not regarded simply as something undertaken in exchange for money. It is also a contribution to the wellbeing of others.

This principle has considerable relevance to Localism.

In the modern economy, many everyday needs are met through commercial transactions. People purchase services that earlier generations often provided within families, neighbourhoods or small communities.

This arrangement has been made possible by high levels of monetary income, extensive transport networks and abundant energy.

As these become less affordable, cooperation may become increasingly necessary.

Neighbours might share tools, help maintain buildings, grow food together or assist those who are elderly or disabled. Skills that have little commercial value today may become increasingly important.

Such cooperation would not eliminate the need for money or specialist services. It would, however, reduce the extent to which every human requirement must be satisfied through a commercial transaction.

Rediscovering the Value of Work

Modern society tends to measure the value of work by the income it produces.

Yet many of the most essential human activities are either poorly paid or entirely unpaid.

Growing vegetables, caring for an elderly neighbour, repairing a fence, preparing meals and maintaining a home all create genuine value. Much of this activity is either excluded from economic statistics or inadequately represented within them.

Plum Village treats ordinary work as an important part of daily life.

There is a lesson here for the future.

As discretionary industries contract, increasing numbers of people may need to find useful occupations closer to home. The distinction between employment, household work and community activity may become less rigid.

Localism envisages a revival of small-scale productive activity, including food growing, repair, maintenance, woodworking and other practical skills.

This would not be a return to the past in every respect. Modern knowledge would remain valuable. But the organisation of work could become more local, more practical and less dependent upon distant employers and markets.

The Return of Community

Perhaps the greatest lesson from Plum Village concerns human relationships.

Over the past two centuries, industrialisation, urbanisation and increasing mobility have progressively separated people from the communities in which earlier generations lived.

Families have become geographically dispersed. Employment often requires travelling considerable distances. Everyday services have become centralised, while many smaller communities have lost shops, workshops and other places where people once met.

The result has been increasing dependence upon large organisations and commercial services, accompanied in many places by a weakening of everyday social relationships.

Plum Village demonstrates the value of living within a recognisable community in which people share responsibilities and know one another.

Localism could encourage a similar rebuilding of relationships, although without the religious commitments or communal living arrangements of a monastery.

People would continue to occupy their own homes and lead their own lives. What would change is the extent to which they depended upon one another locally.

A locality would become more than a collection of houses. It would increasingly become a functioning social and economic community.

Food and the Land

Plum Village also demonstrates the importance of maintaining a relationship with the land.

Its organic Happy Farms produce vegetables for the community’s meals. Food growing is regarded not merely as agricultural production, but as an activity connecting people with the natural world.

In a future of more expensive energy, local food production is likely to become increasingly important.

Modern agriculture depends heavily upon machinery, fertilisers, transport, refrigeration and complex distribution systems. Rising costs could make some of these arrangements progressively less affordable.

Localism therefore envisages more land being cultivated close to where people live, with greater use of human labour and smaller-scale methods.

Gardens, allotments, orchards and small farms could become increasingly important sources of food.

Plum Village cannot be regarded as proof that a community can become entirely self-sufficient. But it demonstrates that food production can be integrated into ordinary community life rather than treated as a distant industrial activity.

The Limitations of the Example

There are important differences between Plum Village and the kind of Localism that may emerge through economic necessity.

Plum Village is a voluntary religious community. Its members have chosen a particular way of life and share a common philosophy.

An ordinary British locality contains people of different ages, abilities, beliefs and interests. Many will have little desire to participate in communal activities.

Moreover, Plum Village operates within a prosperous industrial society. It benefits from modern infrastructure, healthcare, transport and the wider economy. Its existence does not establish that a similar community could provide all its requirements independently.

There is also the question of scale.

A monastery with a few hundred residents is very different from a town of several thousand people. The arrangements suitable for one cannot simply be imposed upon the other.

Localism must therefore develop through practical necessity and voluntary cooperation, rather than through the adoption of a prescribed communal lifestyle.

Nevertheless, the principles of simplicity, mutual assistance and shared responsibility remain relevant.

Localism as a Natural Evolution

The most important distinction is that Plum Village represents a deliberate choice, while Localism may increasingly emerge as an economic necessity.

As surplus energy becomes more constrained and the costs of maintaining complex systems rise, the present highly centralised economy may become progressively harder to sustain.

Some activities will necessarily remain national. Defence, telecommunications, specialist hospitals and major transport infrastructure cannot realistically be organised entirely at the level of individual localities.

But many everyday essentials could increasingly be provided closer to home.

Food production, repair, maintenance, basic care and numerous small services could become more local.

This would not require everyone to embrace Buddhism, communal ownership or any particular philosophy.

It would simply reflect the practical advantages of meeting more needs with fewer resources and shorter supply chains.

In this respect, Plum Village is valuable not as a blueprint but as a demonstration of possibilities.

A Different Understanding of Prosperity

Perhaps the greatest obstacle to accepting economic shrinkage is the assumption that a reduction in material consumption must inevitably mean a corresponding reduction in human wellbeing.

For generations, governments have encouraged the belief that rising incomes and increasing expenditure are the principal measures of progress.

Plum Village challenges this assumption.

Its philosophy suggests that human satisfaction can arise from relationships, useful activity, a sense of belonging and an appreciation of the natural world.

These are not substitutes for essential material requirements. People still need adequate food, warmth, shelter, healthcare and security.

But once these needs are met, greater consumption does not necessarily produce a better life.

This distinction could become increasingly important in a shrinking economy.

If society continues to judge success entirely by the standards of economic growth, shrinkage will be regarded only as failure.

If, however, prosperity comes to be understood more broadly, the revival of local communities might offer compensating benefits.

Conclusion

Plum Village is not a model for the future organisation of the British economy. It is a Buddhist community established for spiritual purposes, not an experiment in surviving economic collapse.

Nevertheless, it provides a useful reminder that the highly individualistic, consumption-driven society of the modern industrial age is not the only possible way of organising human life.

People can cooperate rather than compete in every activity. They can share resources, undertake useful work without monetary reward and derive satisfaction from belonging to a community.

Localism is likely to emerge for very different reasons. It will be driven principally by the declining affordability of the energy-intensive systems upon which modern society depends.

Yet the resulting changes may lead towards some of the same principles.

The future may require us to consume less, travel less, repair more, grow more of our own food and depend more upon the people around us.

Plum Village suggests that such a life need not be regarded entirely as a loss.

The real challenge will be to preserve the essential achievements of modern civilisation while rediscovering the social and practical strengths of smaller communities.

In a world accustomed to measuring progress by how much more it can consume, perhaps the most important lesson from Plum Village is that a society can become materially poorer without necessarily becoming poorer in every other sense.

422. France Is Burning. Britain May Be Next. But What Comes Afterwards?

Tim Stanley, writing in The Daily Telegraph on 19 October 2026, argues that France’s growing disorder is a warning of what may soon happen throughout Europe, including Britain. He sees the violence, political extremism and loss of social cohesion as symptoms of something much deeper: the collapse of the moral and philosophical foundations of Western society.

He may well be right about the direction of events. But there is another explanation, one that goes beyond philosophy and politics. What we are witnessing may be the early social consequences of an economic system that can no longer deliver what people have been taught to expect.

And that raises a much more important question. If the existing system is becoming unsustainable, what will replace it?

The Economic Foundations of Social Disorder

For generations, Western societies have been organised around the assumption of continuing economic growth. Governments have promised better public services, rising living standards, expanding welfare provision and greater opportunities for each succeeding generation.

These promises depended upon an expanding economy.

Growth made it possible to increase public spending without taking too much from existing taxpayers. It allowed governments to borrow against anticipated future prosperity. It supported an increasingly complicated society in which growing numbers of people worked in administration, finance, regulation and services rather than producing life’s essentials.

But the foundations of this arrangement are weakening.

The economy depends upon energy. More precisely, it depends upon the surplus energy remaining after the energy industry has met its own requirements. As the energy cost of obtaining energy (ECoE) rises, the surplus available to support the wider economy comes under pressure.

This does not mean that energy is physically running out. It means that maintaining the energy supply, and the increasingly complex systems dependent upon it, becomes more costly.

Technology may offset some of these pressures, but it cannot abolish the underlying requirement for energy and materials.

The result is an economy struggling to maintain commitments made during a period when continuing growth seemed assured.

Governments respond by borrowing more, raising taxes and attempting to preserve institutions that have become increasingly expensive to operate.

But borrowing cannot create the real resources needed to sustain an economy indefinitely. It merely transfers financial obligations into the future.

Why Young People Are Angry

Stanley attributes much of the violence in France to destructive philosophies and the loss of traditional values.

There may be something in this. But it is difficult to separate attitudes from economic circumstances.

Young people have grown up being told that education, hard work and ambition will bring prosperity. Yet many face expensive housing, insecure employment, limited prospects and public services under increasing strain.

They see older generations possessing houses and assets that they themselves may never afford.

At the same time, governments continue to promise improvements that they seem increasingly unable to deliver.

The resulting disappointment creates fertile ground for political extremism.

None of this excuses violence or the destruction of property. But simply condemning the attitudes of those involved does little to explain why discontent is spreading.

There is a deeper problem. Society continues to promise the rewards of economic expansion when the material foundations of that expansion are becoming less secure.

This contradiction cannot be resolved by changing political parties or adopting a different philosophy.

The Limits of Central Government

France and Britain have something important in common. Both have developed highly centralised systems of government.

Decisions affecting everyday life are increasingly made by institutions far removed from the communities experiencing their consequences.

National governments attempt to manage housing, education, health, transport, energy, employment and welfare through complicated administrative systems.

As economic pressures increase, these arrangements become harder to finance and maintain.

Governments then face impossible choices. Higher taxation weakens household purchasing power and businesses. Reduced expenditure provokes opposition from those who depend upon public services. Additional borrowing increases future obligations and debt-servicing costs.

Every proposed solution seems to create another problem.

Political parties offer different ways of distributing the available money, but few confront the possibility that the amount of real economic activity available to support the system may itself be contracting.

This helps explain why political dissatisfaction persists regardless of which party holds office.

The problem is becoming structural rather than simply political.

The Breakdown of Complexity

Modern Western societies have become extraordinarily complicated.

Food travels enormous distances. Energy depends upon extensive networks. Essential goods require international supply chains. Public services depend upon layers of administration and specialised technology.

All of this requires energy, materials, skilled labour and money.

Complexity is affordable when the economy generates sufficient surplus to maintain it. When that surplus contracts, complexity becomes a burden.

Infrastructure deteriorates because maintenance is postponed. Public services become less reliable. Businesses close because their costs exceed what customers can afford.

Governments struggle to maintain the systems upon which people have become dependent.

The consequences are not necessarily sudden. Economic contraction may appear first as declining quality, longer waiting times, reduced services, higher prices and increasing debt.

Only later does the underlying deterioration become unmistakable.

Social unrest may therefore be a consequence of economic shrinkage rather than its principal cause.

Localism: The Alternative to Breakdown

Towards the end of his article, Stanley suggests that people may withdraw from failing national institutions and form close communities capable of preserving social order and traditional values.

This is perhaps the most interesting part of his argument.

He is approaching, from a philosophical direction, something remarkably close to Localism.

But Localism need not be a deliberate political or religious movement. Nor does it require people to abandon society and establish isolated communities.

It can emerge naturally as economic circumstances change.

When long-distance distribution becomes more expensive, local production becomes more attractive. When large organisations can no longer afford their administrative structures, smaller arrangements become more practical. When national services become less reliable, people increasingly depend upon those living and working nearby.

Food production, maintenance, repair, care and other essential activities begin to acquire greater importance.

The distinction between economic and social life becomes less pronounced. People increasingly know those who produce their food, maintain their buildings and provide everyday services.

The locality becomes more than a place of residence. It becomes an increasingly important economic and social unit.

This does not mean that everything must become local.

Defence, telecommunications, specialist hospitals, national railways and certain other functions will continue to require national organisation.

But much of everyday economic activity could become more local because this would reduce the energy, transport and administrative costs associated with maintaining complex national and international systems.

Localism would not necessarily be chosen through political debate. It could develop because economic circumstances increasingly favour it.

The Return of Mutual Dependence

One of the greatest changes brought about by industrialisation was the separation of people from the communities upon which they had previously depended.

Employment drew people away from their families. Large organisations replaced many local arrangements. Shops and services became concentrated in distant centres. Increasing mobility made it possible to live without knowing one’s neighbours.

Economic growth made this possible.

People could purchase services that earlier generations had provided for one another.

But as household purchasing power comes under pressure, this arrangement becomes less secure.

Families may increasingly need to live closer together. Neighbours may share equipment, skills and responsibilities. Elderly people may depend more upon local networks of assistance. Small businesses and workshops may become important sources of employment.

Such developments will not eliminate hardship or conflict. Nor should we romanticise the difficulties of earlier rural and urban communities.

Nevertheless, mutual dependence can provide a stronger foundation for social cohesion than reliance upon distant institutions.

A society in which people contribute directly to the wellbeing of those around them may have less need for the elaborate administrative structures that have grown up during the age of economic expansion.

Britain May Be Next, But Not Necessarily in the Same Way

France has a long tradition of public protest and confrontation. Britain has generally expressed dissatisfaction differently.

There is no certainty that the violence seen in France will be repeated here on the same scale.

But Britain faces many of the same underlying pressures.

Public debt is enormous. Essential infrastructure requires substantial expenditure. Local authorities face financial difficulties. Housing is increasingly unaffordable for younger people. Public services are struggling to meet expectations.

Meanwhile, political debate remains dominated by arguments about how to restore economic growth.

Very little attention is given to the possibility that sustained growth may no longer be achievable in the form upon which the present system depends.

If that possibility becomes reality, the political arguments of today will increasingly lose their relevance.

The central question will no longer be how to distribute the benefits of growth.

It will be how to organise society when those benefits are no longer available.

Collapse or Evolution?

Tim Stanley’s article ends with a bleak assessment of Western civilisation.

But fiscal and societal breakdown need not mean the end of organised society.

It may mean the end of a particular form of organisation.

The highly centralised, energy-intensive and financially dependent arrangements developed during the age of industrial expansion may gradually become unaffordable.

As they contract, other arrangements will emerge.

Some will undoubtedly be difficult and disorderly. Economic shrinkage is unlikely to be painless. There will be resistance from those whose livelihoods and expectations depend upon preserving the existing system.

But there will also be opportunities to rebuild economic and social relationships on a smaller and more sustainable scale.

The danger is that governments will devote their remaining resources to maintaining institutions that can no longer be afforded, rather than allowing and supporting practical alternatives to develop.

Localism offers a different perspective.

It does not promise to restore the prosperity of the past. It recognises that a shrinking economy will require a different organisation of everyday life.

It places greater emphasis upon essential production, practical skills, local employment, mutual assistance and reduced dependence upon distant systems.

Most importantly, it recognises that the future need not be designed and imposed from above.

It can evolve from below, locality by locality, as people adapt to changing economic realities.

Stanley may be right that Britain is following France towards fiscal and social breakdown.

But he leaves unanswered the most important question.

What happens afterwards?

The answer may not be another political ideology, another government programme or another attempt to revive economic growth.

It may be the natural emergence of Localism as the economic and social organisation of a post-growth society.

And, unlike the political movements that seek to preserve an increasingly unaffordable system, Localism does not have to wait for permission from government.

It can begin wherever people live.

421. How families became scattered, and how localism could bring them closer

One of the less recognised costs of economic growth has been the geographical separation of families. Parents, children, grandparents and siblings may remain affectionate and concerned about one another, yet live too far apart to provide everyday help.

This separation did not happen at one particular moment. It developed over several centuries. Industrialisation accelerated it during the nineteenth century. Further changes in employment, housing, education and transport encouraged it after the Second World War.

There is an important historical distinction. Families in England did not universally live in large households containing several generations. Cambridge research shows that households consisting of parents and their children were common long before industrialisation. Separate households, however, could still belong to a wider network of relatives living nearby. Living in different houses is quite different from living at opposite ends of the country.

Work began to determine where people lived

As factories, mines and industrial towns expanded from the late eighteenth century, they drew workers from other places. A young person’s livelihood increasingly depended on going where an employer needed labour. Family connections became one consideration among several, rather than the foundation around which a working life could be built.

Changes in agriculture added to these pressures. Enclosure altered access to land and common resources, although historians disagree about how much it directly caused migration to towns. It should therefore be understood as one influence among several, rather than a complete explanation.

Migration did not always separate families permanently. Relatives sometimes followed one another and established new networks in industrial neighbourhoods. Nevertheless, the growing economy created a recurring expectation: people should move to obtain work.

Separation acquired new momentum after 1945

Post-war rebuilding offered better homes and relief from overcrowding. The New Towns Act of 1946 enabled new settlements, many intended to accommodate people moving out of London. These were valuable improvements, but moving a household could also increase its distance from relatives who stayed behind.

Higher education provided another route away from home. Leaving to study could become the first stage of a permanent move, followed by employment elsewhere. ONS research has documented the relationship between educational attainment and migration, including a net loss of graduates from rural English areas in its study.

Career advancement could require further moves. Two partners might have to reconcile jobs in different places. Cars and improved transport made greater distances manageable, allowing families to maintain contact without remaining close enough for ordinary daily involvement.

Housing added another constraint. Someone might find work near their parents but be unable to afford a home there. The House of Commons Library identifies young people and families being forced away from their local areas as one consequence of insufficient affordable rural housing.

These changes were driven by opportunity as well as necessity. Moving could bring better pay, education, independence and escape from restrictive circumstances. The difficulty was that the benefits were visible immediately, while the loss of nearby support might become apparent only years later.

The costs emerge when help is needed

Distance matters most when circumstances change.

A grandparent may be willing to help with children but live three hours away. An adult child may want to support an ageing parent but have a job and household elsewhere. A short visit becomes a journey requiring planning, expense and time off work.

Small needs can consequently become larger problems. Collecting a prescription, preparing a meal or noticing that someone is becoming unwell is relatively straightforward when a trusted person lives nearby. At a distance, each task may require a separate arrangement.

Geographical separation does not explain every case of loneliness or pressure on care services. Bereavement, illness, poverty and difficult relationships also matter. Nor does living alone necessarily mean being lonely. Nevertheless, the scale of potential need is substantial: the 2021 Census recorded 3.3 million people aged 65 and over living alone in England and Wales.

My argument is that an economy organised around mobility has underestimated the practical value of proximity. It counts the earnings gained by moving more readily than the everyday support lost through separation.

How localism could reverse the pressure

Localism could change the reasons people have for staying, leaving and returning.

If more livelihoods develop around local essentials, including food, repairs, care, building maintenance and small-scale production, more people could earn a living within reach of their families. Young adults would have greater scope to establish independent households nearby.

This is a possible direction of change, rather than an automatic consequence of economic shrinkage. The loss of employment could also force people to move. Localism would need practical foundations: access to land and premises, affordable housing, useful training and dependable local services.

The aim would be to make proximity a realistic choice. Several generations could live in separate homes while sharing meals, tools, transport, knowledge and occasional care. Older people could contribute experience and companionship. Younger people could help with physically demanding tasks. Support could flow in both directions.

The same principle applies in towns. Localism could strengthen neighbourhood economies and allow people to build working lives closer to existing relationships.

Family support would still need to sit alongside professional care. Responsibilities should be shared, rather than falling by default on one woman or one already exhausted relative. People without nearby family would need equally strong networks of friends, neighbours and local services.

A shrinking economy may make long journeys and purchased services harder to afford. That would increase the value of dependable relationships close to home. But rebuilding those relationships requires time, suitable homes and opportunities to work locally.

For generations, economic advancement has often meant leaving. Localism could make staying, or coming back, a practical way to build a worthwhile life. Families would then have more opportunity to be present in one another’s lives when their presence matters most.

420. Water Nationalisation: An Ambition Britain Can No Longer Afford

The Financial Impossibility of Returning Water to State Ownership

The crisis facing Britain’s water industry illustrates a much wider problem. The country is increasingly unable to afford the infrastructure it already possesses, yet politicians continue to propose changes of ownership as though these could somehow overcome the financial difficulties.

Andy Burnham’s proposals for greater public control of the water industry are a case in point. There is considerable public support for bringing water companies back into state ownership. After years of rising bills, sewage pollution, excessive borrowing and payments to shareholders, it is hardly surprising that privatisation has become deeply unpopular.

But public dissatisfaction does not make nationalisation financially possible.

Indeed, the very financial problems that have discredited privatisation also make nationalisation extraordinarily difficult.

An Industry Already Drowning in Debt

A report in the Daily Telegraph of 17 October 2026 describes a warning from Moody’s, the international credit ratings agency, that proposals for greater public ownership could trigger another financial crisis in the water industry.

Moody’s warns that political uncertainty could discourage investment, increase borrowing costs and lead to further credit rating downgrades.

This is particularly serious because the water companies are already heavily dependent upon borrowing to finance their operations and investment programmes.

Thames Water provides an extraordinary example.

The company is seeking another £2.4 billion from creditors who have already provided £3 billion to keep it operating. A wider rescue proposal involving some £10 billion is under consideration.

These are enormous sums, yet they concern only one company.

The difficulty is that the money being borrowed does not necessarily create new productive assets. Much of it is required to maintain, repair and modernise infrastructure that has deteriorated over many decades.

In other words, the industry is borrowing heavily simply to keep an essential service functioning.

This is a warning of something much more serious than a failure of privatisation.

Nationalisation Does Not Make Debt Disappear

There is a widespread assumption that returning water companies to public ownership would eliminate the financial problems associated with private shareholders.

Certainly, public ownership could remove the requirement to pay dividends to private investors. It might also reduce some financing and administrative costs.

But it would not eliminate the industry’s debts, its deteriorating infrastructure or the enormous expenditure required to maintain water supplies and sewage treatment.

The Government would face several major financial obligations.

First, there would be the cost of acquiring the companies. The amount would depend upon their valuations, the treatment of existing shareholders and creditors, and the terms of any legislation. Nationalisation would not necessarily require paying the full market value of every company’s assets, but compensation and legal disputes could still be substantial.

Second, there would be the problem of existing debt. Some debt might be restructured or written down, but the losses would have to fall somewhere. Creditors, pension funds and other investors would be affected.

Third, the Government would inherit responsibility for financing future investment.

This is perhaps the greatest problem of all.

The water industry requires expenditure running into many tens of billions of pounds to replace ageing pipes, improve sewage treatment, reduce pollution and provide additional capacity.

Changing the ownership of these assets does nothing to reduce the physical work required.

The Government Has No Spare Money

Britain’s public finances are already under immense pressure.

The national debt is measured in trillions of pounds. Interest payments consume a substantial part of public expenditure. The NHS, social care, defence, education, local government and transport are all competing for resources.

The Government is also confronted by the growing cost of maintaining existing public infrastructure.

Roads are deteriorating. Bridges require repair. Hospitals and schools need rebuilding. Railway infrastructure is expensive to maintain. Flood defences require substantial additional expenditure.

Where, then, would the money for water nationalisation come from?

There are only a few possibilities.

The Government could raise taxation, increase borrowing, reduce expenditure elsewhere or require water customers to pay more.

None is attractive.

Higher taxation would further reduce the disposable income of households already struggling with the cost of living.

Additional borrowing would increase the national debt and potentially the cost of servicing it.

Reducing other public expenditure would transfer the financial difficulty from one essential service to another.

Increasing water bills would undermine one of the principal political arguments for nationalisation.

Public ownership might change who borrows the money and how it is financed. It would not remove the need to pay for the work.

The Real Problem Is Physical, Not Merely Financial

There is a further difficulty that is largely absent from the political debate.

The water industry is an extremely energy-intensive undertaking.

Water must be extracted, treated, pumped, stored and distributed. Sewage must be collected, pumped and processed. Treatment plants require electricity, chemicals, specialist equipment and constant maintenance.

The replacement of underground pipes involves excavation, transport, machinery, manufactured materials and skilled labour.

All these activities depend upon energy.

As the cost of obtaining energy rises, so does the real cost of maintaining infrastructure.

This is particularly important when considering the Energy Cost of Energy, or ECoE. As more of society’s resources are required to obtain usable energy, fewer remain available for other activities.

The result is a gradual reduction in the economic surplus available to maintain the complex infrastructure upon which modern society depends.

The water industry is therefore facing two related problems.

One is financial. The other is the increasing physical cost of maintaining an enormous and ageing network.

Nationalisation would solve neither automatically.

The Illusion of Investment

Politicians frequently speak of the need for greater investment in infrastructure.

But there is an important distinction between investment that creates additional productive capacity and expenditure required simply to maintain what already exists.

Replacing a worn-out water main may be essential, but it does not necessarily increase the amount of water available or create additional economic output.

It restores a service that would otherwise deteriorate.

The same applies to repairing roads, replacing bridges and maintaining railway lines.

An increasing proportion of national expenditure is required merely to prevent the existing infrastructure from becoming unusable.

This is one of the characteristics of an economy approaching, or entering, structural contraction.

The country is spending more to stand still.

Borrowing can conceal this difficulty for a time, but it cannot eliminate it.

Eventually, the cost of maintaining the existing system exceeds what the economy can comfortably support.

Would Localism Offer an Alternative?

Water supply is particularly interesting from the perspective of Localism.

Historically, many communities obtained water from wells, springs, streams and relatively small local supply systems.

The development of large networks brought enormous public health benefits. Modern water treatment and sewage disposal have helped eliminate diseases that once killed thousands.

These achievements must not be dismissed.

Nevertheless, the present system is highly centralised, technically complex and expensive to maintain.

A future Localist economy would have to examine whether some of this complexity could gradually be reduced.

Rainwater harvesting, local water storage, the protection of springs and groundwater, reduced consumption and carefully designed small-scale treatment systems could all have a part to play.

Some localities might be able to meet a greater proportion of their needs from nearby resources.

Others, particularly large towns and cities, would remain dependent upon extensive shared infrastructure.

There would also be important limits. Drinking water requires reliable treatment and testing. Sewage disposal must protect public health and the environment. Small systems are not automatically cheaper or safer than large ones.

Localism would therefore not mean abandoning modern water supply. It would mean gradually developing arrangements that are less dependent upon expensive, distant and energy-intensive infrastructure wherever this is practical.

Such changes would take decades.

They would also require investment, but potentially on a smaller and more manageable scale.

The Political Argument Misses the Point

The argument between privatisation and nationalisation is essentially an argument about ownership.

One side believes private enterprise is better equipped to manage essential services. The other believes public ownership would remove the profit motive and allow decisions to be made in the public interest.

Both arguments contain elements of truth.

Private ownership has clearly failed to prevent serious financial and environmental problems in parts of the water industry.

Public ownership could provide greater democratic accountability and remove some of the costs associated with private capital.

But neither form of ownership can escape the physical and financial realities.

The pipes still have to be replaced. The treatment works still have to operate. The electricity, chemicals, machinery and labour still have to be paid for.

Most importantly, the money must ultimately come from the same national economy.

Changing the ownership does not create additional national wealth.

Conclusion: Nationalisation Is Financially Impossible Under Present Conditions

The argument for nationalisation may be politically attractive, but comprehensive nationalisation of Britain’s water industry is, under present financial conditions, effectively impossible to finance without imposing substantial additional costs elsewhere.

The Government could acquire the companies through legislation, debt restructuring or negotiated purchases. It could even assume control of failing businesses at relatively little immediate cost in certain circumstances.

But acquiring ownership is not the same as financing the industry.

The Government would inherit an ageing infrastructure, enormous investment requirements and the continuing obligation to provide safe water and sewage treatment.

These responsibilities would compete directly with the already unaffordable demands of other essential public services.

Nor would nationalisation reverse the underlying economic forces. Rising energy costs, declining economic surplus and the increasing expense of maintaining complex infrastructure would remain.

Britain’s water crisis is therefore not simply evidence that privatisation has failed.

It is evidence of something more fundamental.

The country is becoming unable to afford the infrastructure upon which its present way of life depends.

Nationalisation would transfer responsibility for that problem from private companies to the state. It would not make the problem disappear.

The long-term answer is unlikely to be found in another change of ownership. It will require a fundamental reconsideration of the scale, complexity and cost of the systems society can realistically maintain.

That is precisely the question which Localism seeks to address.

The central issue is no longer simply who should own Britain’s water industry.

It is whether Britain can continue to afford the system it has built.

419. James Lovelock, Gaia and Localism

The Earth as a self-regulating system and what it can teach us about the future of human society

In 1979, the British scientist James Lovelock published a remarkable book, Gaia: A New Look at Life on Earth. In it, he proposed that the Earth should not be understood simply as a collection of living organisms inhabiting an otherwise lifeless planet. Instead, life and its physical surroundings form an interconnected system capable of regulating many of the conditions upon which life depends.

Lovelock called this the Gaia hypothesis, taking the name from the ancient Greek goddess of the Earth.

Nearly half a century later, his ideas have particular relevance to the emerging age of Localism.

The Earth Regulates Itself

Lovelock observed that living organisms do much more than adapt to their surroundings. They also change those surroundings.

Plants absorb carbon dioxide and release oxygen. Forests influence rainfall and temperature. Marine organisms affect the chemistry of the oceans. Soil organisms recycle nutrients and help maintain fertility. Countless biological processes interact with the atmosphere, water and rocks.

These interactions can create feedback mechanisms which help stabilise environmental conditions.

Lovelock suggested that the Earth’s capacity to sustain life had been maintained partly through these relationships over immense periods of geological time.

This did not mean that the Earth was a conscious organism, deliberately controlling its environment. Nor did it mean that nature always maintains a comfortable equilibrium. Rather, it meant that living and non-living components of the planet were inseparable parts of a complex system.

Some aspects of Lovelock’s original hypothesis remain scientifically contested, particularly the suggestion that the Earth as a whole tends towards conditions favourable to life. Nevertheless, his emphasis on the interaction between life and the physical environment has had a lasting influence on Earth-system science.

The Importance of Feedback

One of the most important features of Gaia is the role of feedback.

Consider a natural woodland. Trees grow by drawing nutrients from the soil. Their leaves fall and decay, returning nutrients to the ground. Fungi and microorganisms break down organic matter. Rainfall replenishes moisture, while vegetation reduces erosion.

The woodland is not managed by a central authority. Its functioning emerges from countless local interactions.

There are limits to this self-regulation. Drought, disease, fire and changes in climate can overwhelm the system. Nevertheless, the woodland illustrates how order can emerge without central direction.

This is where Gaia begins to have significance for Localism.

Human Society Has Moved in the Opposite Direction

For most of human history, communities depended heavily upon their immediate surroundings.

Food was grown locally. Timber provided fuel and building materials. Water came from nearby springs, wells and streams. Waste was frequently returned to the land. Craftsmen worked with materials available within a relatively short distance.

These communities were far from self-sufficient, and many depended upon trade. Nevertheless, their economic activities were constrained by the productive capacity of the land and the energy available to them.

Industrialisation progressively weakened these constraints.

Coal, followed by oil, gas and electricity, enabled goods, people and materials to move over ever-greater distances. Food could be produced thousands of miles from where it was consumed. Manufacturing became concentrated in large factories. Towns and cities became increasingly dependent upon distant supplies.

The resulting economic system brought enormous material benefits. But it also allowed human communities to become increasingly detached from the ecological processes upon which they ultimately depended.

A modern city may consume food, energy and materials from across the world while returning little of its waste to the places from which those resources originated.

The feedback between consumption and its consequences has become weak and remote.

Economic Growth Concealed the Problem

The availability of abundant, relatively cheap fossil-fuel energy surplus made this separation possible.

As long as the energy required to extract resources, manufacture goods and transport them remained affordable, the geographical distance between production and consumption appeared to matter little.

Economic growth encouraged further specialisation and concentration.

Large farms replaced many smaller holdings. Local workshops disappeared. Small shops gave way to supermarkets supplied by national and international distribution systems. Public services were increasingly centralised.

The economy became more complex, but also more dependent upon uninterrupted supplies of energy, materials, finance and transport.

The difficulty arises when the energy cost of obtaining energy itself increases.

A rising Energy Cost of Energy, or ECoE, reduces the surplus energy available to support the wider economy. If this occurs on a sufficient scale, activities dependent upon large amounts of discretionary energy become progressively harder to sustain.

This does not automatically mean that economic contraction is inevitable. Technology, efficiency and alternative energy sources can offset some pressures. But if affordable surplus energy declines, the economic consequences could be profound.

It is under these circumstances that the relationship between Gaia and Localism becomes particularly interesting.

Localism as a Return to Natural Feedback

Localism does not mean attempting to recreate the past.

It means reorganising much of economic and social life around the resources, needs and capabilities of individual localities.

A locality producing more of its own food becomes more directly aware of the condition of its soil, the availability of water and the importance of maintaining fertility.

A locality depending partly upon nearby woodland for heating has a strong incentive to ensure that timber is harvested sustainably.

A community using local water resources must take greater responsibility for protecting them.

In each case, the consequences of economic activity become more visible to those undertaking it.

The relationship between action and consequence is restored.

This resembles one of the central insights of Gaia. Stability need not depend entirely upon instructions from above. It can emerge through the interaction of many smaller systems, provided that the feedback between them remains effective.

There is, however, an important qualification. Local systems do not automatically regulate themselves wisely. Forests can be overexploited, soils exhausted and water polluted. Effective local institutions, knowledge and cooperation remain essential.

The Locality as an Economic Ecosystem

We might usefully think of a locality as an economic ecosystem.

Its farmers produce food. Its woodland supplies timber and fuel. Its builders maintain buildings using materials available nearby wherever practicable. Its craftsmen repair tools and equipment. Its shops distribute essential goods. Its care workers look after those unable to care for themselves.

Waste from one activity may become a resource for another.

Food waste and suitable organic materials can be composted and returned to the soil. Timber offcuts can become fuel. Buildings can be repaired rather than demolished. Tools can be maintained rather than discarded.

Money circulates through the locality rather than immediately leaving it.

The objective is not complete self-sufficiency, which would be impractical for most communities. It is to develop greater local resilience while reducing dependence upon distant and energy-intensive systems.

The closer these activities become, the easier it is to recognise their interdependence.

The Role of Central Government

Gaia does not suggest that every part of a system should operate in isolation.

The Earth’s oceans, atmosphere, land and living organisms are connected through processes operating at many different scales.

Similarly, Localism does not require the disappearance of national government.

Some functions must remain national. Defence, telecommunications, specialist hospitals, intercity railways, taxation and essential national infrastructure cannot sensibly be organised independently by every locality.

The distinction lies between those activities which genuinely require large-scale coordination and those which can operate effectively closer to the people they serve.

The future may therefore involve two complementary levels of organisation.

A relatively limited national framework would maintain those services requiring national coordination.

Individual localities would assume increasing responsibility for everyday economic and social activities.

Such an arrangement would be neither wholly centralised nor entirely decentralised.

It would resemble a complex natural system in which local processes operate within a wider framework.

The Danger of Excessive Complexity

Lovelock’s work also draws attention to the vulnerability of complex systems.

A system may remain apparently stable for a long period before changing circumstances push it beyond its capacity to adjust.

Modern economies contain many similar vulnerabilities.

Electricity networks depend upon continuous balancing. Food distribution depends upon transport and refrigeration. Hospitals depend upon elaborate supply chains. Communications depend upon electricity and sophisticated electronic equipment.

These systems are highly effective while their supporting conditions remain favourable.

But their complexity can also create dependencies which are difficult to replace when something fails.

Localism offers a means of reducing some of these vulnerabilities.

A locality with food production, repair facilities, local sources of heat and practical skills may be better able to withstand interruptions to national supplies than one entirely dependent upon distant provision.

This does not eliminate risk. Local harvests can fail and local resources can be exhausted. Connections between localities remain valuable precisely because they allow assistance when one locality encounters difficulties.

The objective should therefore be resilience through a combination of local capability and wider cooperation.

Localism and the Limits of Growth

Perhaps the deepest connection between Gaia and Localism concerns limits.

Industrial civilisation has tended to treat the natural environment as an almost unlimited source of resources and a convenient destination for waste.

Economic success has generally been measured by the increasing quantity of goods and services produced and consumed.

But the Earth is finite.

Its productive capacity, although remarkable, is not unlimited. Natural processes operate within physical constraints. Soil formation, forest regeneration and the replenishment of water all take time.

Lovelock’s work reminds us that humanity exists within these processes rather than outside them.

Localism accepts the practical implications.

An economy organised around essential needs, maintenance, repair and the sustainable use of nearby resources may require less energy and fewer material inputs than one organised around continuously expanding consumption.

Such an economy would not necessarily produce the greatest possible monetary output.

It might, however, prove better suited to a future in which affordable energy and resources are more constrained.

An Evolution Rather Than a Revolution

There is another important connection.

Gaia describes a world shaped by innumerable interactions occurring over long periods. No central authority designed the Earth’s ecosystems.

Localism, too, can be understood as an evolutionary process.

As economic conditions change, households may begin growing more food. Small producers may find new markets. Repair trades may return. Local energy production may become more attractive. Communities may develop new ways of providing care and other essential services.

These developments need not follow a single national blueprint.

They may arise independently in different localities, reflecting their geography, resources, population and existing skills.

Some will succeed. Others will fail. Experience will gradually reveal which arrangements work best.

This is not an argument against planning or cooperation. It is an argument against assuming that a complex society can be successfully reorganised in every detail through central direction.

Conclusion: Learning from Gaia

James Lovelock did not devise the Gaia hypothesis as an argument for Localism. His concern was the relationship between living organisms and the physical Earth.

Nevertheless, his work offers a valuable way of thinking about the organisation of human society.

The natural world demonstrates the importance of interdependence, feedback, resource cycles and adaptation.

Modern industrial civilisation has achieved remarkable things by overcoming many immediate geographical constraints. But in doing so it has also created an economic system whose dependence upon distant resources and complex infrastructure is often poorly understood.

If the era of abundant, affordable surplus energy is drawing to a close, societies will increasingly need to rediscover the value of local production, local knowledge and local responsibility.

This need not involve abandoning national cooperation or modern scientific knowledge.

It would mean recognising that human economic activity must ultimately operate within the physical and ecological limits of the Earth.

Gaia provides a way of understanding those limits. Localism offers one possible way of organising human society to live more successfully within them.

The two ideas are not identical. But they share a fundamental insight: enduring systems depend less upon unlimited expansion than upon maintaining workable relationships between their constituent parts.

In that sense, Localism may be seen not merely as an economic response to declining surplus energy, but as a way of bringing human society into closer alignment with the natural processes upon which its existence depends.

418. The Coming Crisis of Uninsurable Homes

Climate Change, Property Values and the Shrinking Economy

For generations, home ownership has been regarded as one of the safest forms of personal wealth. A house provides shelter, security and an asset which can be sold, inherited or used as security for borrowing. Much of Britain’s financial system has been built around the assumption that residential property will retain its value.

That assumption is now coming under threat.

An article by Harry Brennan in The Daily Telegraph on 14 October 2026 reports warnings from senior figures in the insurance industry that climate change could make increasing numbers of British homes difficult, or even impossible, to insure.

The implications extend far beyond the insurance industry. They could undermine the mortgage market, reduce property values, damage household wealth and add another source of instability to an economy already struggling with the consequences of declining growth.

The Insurance Problem

There is also an important connection with Localism.

Insurance works by spreading risk across large numbers of policyholders. Most properties suffer no serious damage in any particular year, allowing the premiums collected from many households to pay the claims of relatively few.

But what happens when the risks increase substantially?

Flooding, subsidence, coastal erosion and wildfires are becoming increasingly important considerations for insurers. Where damage becomes more frequent, insurance premiums must rise. Where the probability of serious damage becomes too great, insurers may withdraw cover altogether.

This is not simply a theoretical possibility.

Tenbury Wells in Worcestershire has already attracted attention as an example of a town where repeated flooding has created serious difficulties in obtaining affordable flood insurance.

The Environment Agency estimates that around 6.3 million properties in England are currently at risk of flooding, with the number potentially increasing substantially by the middle of the century. Subsidence presents another growing problem, particularly where prolonged dry periods affect clay soils.

There is an important distinction between a property being at risk and becoming uninsurable. Nevertheless, increasing physical risks inevitably raise questions about the long-term availability and affordability of insurance.

The Threat to the Mortgage Market

The financial implications are potentially enormous.

Mortgage lenders normally require buildings insurance because the property provides security for the loan. If that security cannot be insured, the lender faces an additional risk.

An uninsured property may therefore become difficult to mortgage.

That immediately reduces the number of potential purchasers. Fewer purchasers mean lower property values. In the worst cases, a house may become practically unsellable, even though it remains habitable.

Consider a household whose property has been valued at £300,000. If insurers withdraw cover because of repeated flooding, prospective buyers may be unable to obtain mortgages. The property could lose a substantial part of its market value.

The owners may still have an outstanding mortgage, but the value of the asset securing it has fallen.

If this happens to sufficient numbers of properties, the consequences could extend throughout the banking system.

The insurance industry whistleblowers quoted by The Telegraph have drawn comparisons with the financial crisis of 2008, when weaknesses in mortgage lending helped destabilise the international financial system.

The circumstances are different, and a comparable crisis is not inevitable. Nevertheless, the underlying warning deserves attention. An apparently secure financial asset can become much less secure when the assumptions supporting its value prove unreliable.

The Problem of Maintaining Protection

Governments can respond by constructing flood defences, improving drainage, strengthening buildings and restricting development in vulnerable locations.

But these measures require money, materials, energy and continuing maintenance.

Flood barriers must be inspected and repaired. Drainage systems must be maintained. Coastal defences must be strengthened as conditions change.

And protection is never absolute.

Britain already faces enormous demands for expenditure on roads, bridges, railways, water supplies, electricity networks, hospitals and other essential infrastructure.

Climate adaptation adds another expensive obligation.

In an expanding economy, governments might reasonably expect rising tax revenues to finance much of this expenditure.

But what happens in a shrinking economy?

If the economy is contracting because the cost of obtaining and delivering energy is rising, the resources available for maintaining existing infrastructure will become increasingly constrained.

The country may face a growing requirement for protective expenditure at precisely the time when its ability to finance that expenditure is weakening.

This is a central problem of the post-growth economy.

The Wider Property Problem

The threat of uninsurable homes is only one aspect of a much larger issue.

Britain’s housing market depends upon a complicated combination of mortgage lending, insurance, employment, household incomes, infrastructure and confidence in future property values.

All these are vulnerable to economic contraction.

If real household incomes decline, fewer people can afford existing house prices.

If unemployment rises, mortgage repayments become more difficult.

If energy costs increase, heating and maintaining properties become more expensive.

If public authorities cannot afford to maintain roads, drainage and other infrastructure, some locations may become less attractive.

Climate-related insurance problems add another pressure.

These pressures could reinforce one another. Falling property values might reduce household confidence and spending. Mortgage lenders might become more cautious. Construction activity could decline, reducing employment and demand for materials.

A property market that has benefited for decades from economic expansion could therefore become a source of instability during economic contraction.

This would be particularly serious in Britain, where so much personal wealth is tied up in residential property.

Can Government Insurance Solve the Problem?

Britain already has a scheme known as Flood Re, designed to help make flood insurance available and affordable for eligible households at higher risk.

The scheme spreads some of the costs across the wider insurance market. It is currently intended to end in 2039, although its future is under discussion.

Such arrangements can provide valuable protection.

But they cannot eliminate the underlying physical risks.

If flooding becomes more frequent and damaging, somebody must ultimately bear the cost. That might be the homeowner, the insurance customer, the taxpayer or some combination of all three.

Government support can redistribute financial losses. It cannot make those losses disappear.

In a shrinking economy, this distinction becomes increasingly important.

There will be limits to how much expenditure can be transferred from one group of households to another, particularly when many households are already struggling to afford essentials.

What This Means for Localism

Localism offers a different way of thinking about the relationship between settlement, property and economic security.

The present system treats houses primarily as financial assets. Their market values depend heavily upon the availability of credit, the expectations of purchasers and the assumption of future economic growth.

In a localist economy, the primary purpose of housing would increasingly return to providing secure and affordable shelter.

This does not mean that houses would cease to have monetary value or that private ownership would disappear. It means that their usefulness as places to live would become more important than their potential for capital appreciation.

Local knowledge would also become increasingly valuable.

People living within a locality often understand which fields flood, which roads become impassable, where drainage is inadequate and which buildings have survived difficult conditions over many generations.

Such knowledge could influence decisions about where to build, where to improve drainage and where further investment would be unwise.

Smaller-scale building and maintenance activities could increasingly draw upon local materials, local labour and established construction methods.

Traditional buildings sometimes offer useful lessons in ventilation, moisture management, repairability and the use of materials suited to local conditions. These lessons would need to be combined with modern knowledge of flood resilience and structural safety.

Localism would not prevent climate change or remove the need for national insurance arrangements and major flood defences.

Indeed, some problems, particularly coastal protection and the management of major river catchments, cannot be solved by individual localities acting alone.

There would still be an essential role for national government.

But local decision-making could help communities adapt their settlements to the resources and environmental conditions actually available to them.

The Question of Where People Live

There is another consequence which deserves consideration.

Britain has spent generations concentrating economic activity, employment and population in particular urban centres and development corridors.

This concentration has required increasingly elaborate infrastructure, including transport systems, drainage networks, electricity supplies and flood protection.

Some of this development has taken place on land which would previously have been considered unsuitable for housing.

As the costs of maintaining and protecting settlements rise, it may become necessary to reconsider where future development should occur.

A shrinking economy cannot indefinitely support every existing pattern of land use, particularly where protection requires increasing expenditure.

This does not mean abandoning established communities.

It does suggest that future settlement decisions should give much greater weight to long-term physical security, access to essential resources and the costs of maintaining infrastructure.

Localism would encourage settlements to develop in closer relationship with their surrounding land, water supplies, food production and available energy.

The objective would not be to maximise property prices, but to create communities capable of sustaining themselves with fewer external resources.

A Warning of Something Much Bigger

The insurance industry’s warnings reveal a weakness in the modern economy which is easily overlooked.

Much of our apparent wealth depends upon promises about the future.

A house is valuable partly because we assume that somebody will be able to purchase it. A mortgage is secure partly because we assume that the house will retain sufficient value. Insurance is affordable partly because we assume that future losses will remain manageable.

These assumptions depend upon physical conditions as well as financial arrangements.

When those conditions change, financial promises can become increasingly difficult to honour.

Climate change is one source of pressure. Rising energy costs, declining economic growth and the growing expense of maintaining infrastructure are others.

Together they raise a fundamental question.

Can an economy built around continually rising asset values remain stable when the physical costs of maintaining those assets are increasing and the resources available to meet those costs are becoming more constrained?

This is not merely an insurance problem.

It is another indication that the institutions developed during the age of economic expansion may be increasingly difficult to sustain in an age of contraction.

Localism will not provide an immediate solution to the insurance crisis. Nor will it protect every vulnerable property.

But it offers a different foundation for the future: one in which homes are valued primarily as places to live, communities make greater use of local knowledge and resources, and economic arrangements are shaped by what can realistically be maintained.

The growing threat of uninsurable homes may prove to be another warning that Britain needs to prepare for an economy in which maintaining what already exists becomes more important than pursuing further growth.

And that is precisely the economy for which Localism is intended.


Source: Harry Brennan, The Daily Telegraph, 14 October 2026, reporting warnings from senior insurance industry figures concerning climate risk, property insurability and financial stability.

417. The Industrial Era Is Over

Britain’s political leaders are promising a new age of industrialisation. Yet the factories described in the Telegraph’s report are closing, reducing production or struggling to survive. The promises point towards an expanding industrial future. The physical evidence points in the opposite direction.

The demolition at Llanwern is a powerful image of this contradiction. Buildings that once represented industrial strength are being dismantled while politicians promise to restore that strength.

But the deeper question is whether the conditions that supported the industrial era can be restored at all.

The argument that the industrial era is over does not mean that every factory will close. It means that industrial expansion can no longer be assumed to provide the organising principle of our economy and society.

The Conditions Have Changed

Industrialisation depended on abundant energy becoming available at a cost that allowed production to expand. Coal, followed by oil and gas, enabled machinery to replace human and animal effort on an extraordinary scale.

Factories produced more. Transport carried goods further. Larger markets supported larger businesses. Rising incomes allowed households to buy what those businesses produced.

This became a reinforcing process. More energy supported more production, more consumption and further investment.

Politicians still expect that process to resume. Their proposals assume that investment, technology and government encouragement can set it moving again.

But investment is a financial commitment. Production is a physical activity. Money cannot remove the need for affordable energy, materials, functioning infrastructure and customers who can pay.

The Telegraph’s account repeatedly returns to these constraints. Energy costs undermine production. Overseas competition squeezes margins. Factories operate below capacity. Government support runs up against strained public finances.

These pressures are evidence of Britain’s industrial difficulties. They do not, by themselves, prove that industrial expansion has ended everywhere. Nevertheless, they expose the weakness of promising a return to industrial prosperity without explaining how its physical foundations will be secured.

Moving Production Does Not Remove Dependence

For decades, Britain could lose factories while continuing to consume manufactured goods. Production moved elsewhere. Imports filled the shops.

This made deindustrialisation appear manageable.

But an economy dependent on imported goods still depends on industry. It also depends on international transport, reliable suppliers and sufficient income to pay for those imports.

Calling Britain a service economy does not release it from these requirements.

Financial services, consultancy, administration and digital businesses all operate within a material world. They need electricity, buildings, equipment, food and transport. Their customers must have money to spend.

As households devote more of their income to essentials, some discretionary services face the same affordability pressures as manufacturers.

Changing the description of the economy does not change its foundations.

Technology Cannot Promise the Old Prosperity

Advanced manufacturing will remain valuable. Britain needs medicines, electrical equipment, machinery and other essential products. Research can improve their production.

But successful specialist factories cannot automatically recreate the employment once provided by mass industry. Automation may increase output while requiring fewer workers.

Nor does electrification abolish the energy question. Electric furnaces and automated production still require dependable power. New generating capacity, networks and equipment must themselves be built and maintained.

Technology can change what is possible. It cannot guarantee that everything technically possible will also be affordable.

Preserve What We Need

The end of the industrial era calls for a different purpose for industrial policy.

The priority should be to preserve the capabilities needed to sustain everyday life. These include food processing, medicines, water equipment, essential transport, repair and the production of durable tools.

Some require substantial national organisation. Others can operate closer to the people they serve.

Public support should therefore be judged by the essential capacity it protects. A subsidy may be justified where losing a factory would create a serious vulnerability. That does not make every struggling business the foundation of a new growth era.

We must distinguish maintaining necessary production from attempting to recreate an economy built around continually increasing consumption.

The Opening for Localism

As distant systems become more expensive or less dependable, meeting needs within a locality becomes more valuable.

Repair, food growing, building maintenance, care and small workshops can provide useful work. They can also reduce some transport requirements and extend the life of existing possessions.

This will require skills, premises, access to land and customers with sufficient purchasing power. People leaving discretionary employment will not become successful local businesses merely because work elsewhere disappears.

But these practical foundations deserve more attention than another promise to restore the industrial past.

The industrial era is over in the sense that its central expectation, continuing expansion supported by cheap energy and rising consumption, can no longer safely guide our future.

Industry will remain. Its purpose must change.

The task is to organise production around what people need, preserve the capabilities we cannot afford to lose, and allow local economies to develop around the work of sustaining life.

Written in response to “Burnham wants to revive British industry. This is why he’ll fail”, by Matt Oliver, Emma Taggart and Szu Ping Chan, published in the Telegraph on 4 October 2026.

416. How a Renaissance Erupts and Changes Everything

The rebirth of what is essential to a productive culture may appear political in a superficial review, but the real driver of change is cultural.

Charles Hugh Smith

This is essay #16 in the series The Revolution No One Sees Coming.

The word Renaissance–“rebirth”–is associated with the European Renaissance of the 14th to 17th centuries.

But when viewed as a rediscovery of core values, principles and intellectual / spiritual heritages that have been lost to decay and corruption, then we can extend this idea of the “rebirth of what is essential to a productive culture” to movements that are typically described as regime change: rebellions, revolutions and the rise of new dynasties that draw inspiration from the core values, principles and intellectual / spiritual heritages of past eras of stable, widespread “good times” (for example, the Tang Dynasty, the Southern Song dynasty, the early Ming dynasty, the Roman Republic, etc.).

The rebirth of what is essential to a productive culture may appear political in a superficial review, but the real driver of change is cultural–the social, intellectual and spiritual/ethical values and principles that guide public conduct and Consent of the Governed not by the force of laws or state repression but by shared values and beliefs.

Renaissances by their very nature are rediscoveries or revivals of ideas and ideals lost to the decay and corruption of self-interest and sclerosis, as the status quo descends into going though the motions rather than actually being diligent, avoiding sacrifices for the common good, maintaining a fake facade of devotion to honored principles while pursuing corruption and self-enrichment with a pathologically single-minded avariciousness.

This decay and corruption typifies regimes that have reached their limits and have succeeded for so long that those feeding at the trough reckon there is no limit on what they can siphon off for their personal fortunes, while the ideas that enabled the long success no longer activate nimble problem-solving; rather, they now encourage “doing more of what’s failed.”

The European Renaissance began with the rediscovery by the intellectual-commercial class of Greek and Roman texts preserved in the Christian monasteries by monks whose tasks included laboriously copying decaying manuscripts into new handwritten texts, a task so tedious that many manuscripts included margin-notes by monks praying to be relieved of the excruciating work.

Handwritten copies of these works began circulating among the intelligentsia, and with the advent of the printing press in Europe (China had long had the same basic technology, but had never developed it into a mass media), by the early 1500s these classics became more widely available.

This process of rediscovery and rebirth does not require the unearthing of long-buried texts; it works equally well with ideas and ideals that remain in plain sight but have been abandoned in a culture corrupted by the supremacy of self-interest by any means available, including artifice, fraud and the Big Con–claiming fealty to ideals as the cover story for relentless self-enrichment.

The key to this rediscovery erupting into a force of mass cultural change is the ideas and ideals inspire new adaptations that sweep away the sclerosis of the stagnant, going through the motions status quo, as opposed to the pursuit of a dream of res-establishing or restoring a previous Glorious Realm. A Renaissance is not the exhumation of a bygone regime; it’s the inspirational rebirth of ideals that generate the adaptive, nimble, willing-to-sacrifice for the common good principles that are the foundations of Glorious Realms.

All of which brings us to the present state of the United States: its leadership so corrupted that it no longer even recognizes its corruption (corruption is now “the way the world works”), a leadership of True Believers in the secular religion of the pathologically single-minded pursuit of self-enrichment and power, a belief structure that is once again unrecognized for what it truly is, a leadership–intellectual, political, cultural–that has reached its limits and is only going through the motions of mimicking “innovation,” “democracy” and “progress” to mask the sclerosis of the status quo (doing more of what’s failed) and their ceaseless self-aggrandizement.

I call this complex structure of artifice masking sclerosis and corruption–the collapse of the Moral Universe that underpins all productive cultures–The Big Con, as the essential task in uninterrupted self-enrichment is to con the public into believing that the status quo benefits them even as it stripmines them and makes a mockery of “innovation,” “democracy” and “progress.”

The descent into sclerosis and corruption is not a new progression. What fueled Martin Luther’s outrage was the Church’s blatant corruption, as bribes were openly accepted as the path for the wealthy to gain easy access to Heaven.

We find ourselves in a similar cesspool today. a cesspool with a diving board to lend an absurdly transparent and laughable air of normalcy to the stench of decay and corruption and the putrid morass of sclerosis–doing more of what’s failed and calling it “innovation” and “progress” as The Big Con.

I know this sounds like the ravings of a white-robed lunatic on the street corner, but as this series has attempted to illuminate, The Big Con has reached its limits and the fury of the conned will burn hot as the pendulum swings to the other extreme. At some point, we will seek inspiration and adaptive nimbleness in ideals such as thrift, social cohesion, authenticity rather than artifice, and the elevation of leaders based not on their ability to con us but on their willingness to forego private self-enrichment to serve the shared interests of everyone, not just themselves and their cronies.

We can find such inspiration in Marcus Aurelius, of course, but we can also find it in American sources such as Emerson and more recently, Christopher Lasch. The treasures of inspirational ideas and ideals await our rediscovery and rebirth…

 

415. Growing Better Food Close to Home

A report discussed in The Telegraph on 7 October 2026 raises a question about our food supply. Are we producing more food while paying too little attention to what it contains?

The article reports declines of 20 to 50 per cent in certain nutrients in some crops. It links these changes to deteriorating soil quality and breeding that favours rapid growth and high yields.

The headline needs care. It does not establish that every vegetable is now half as nutritious as its equivalent in the 1960s. Different crops and nutrients behave differently. Nor does it establish that we should replace five-a-day advice with ten-a-day. The NHS continues to recommend at least five portions of varied fruit and vegetables each day.

Nevertheless, the report strengthens the case for paying attention to how food is grown. For localism, this means recognising the value of gardens, allotments, smallholdings and local market gardens.

Begin with the soil

A vegetable patch is more than a space into which seeds are placed. It is living ground which needs care.

Home growers can return composted plant material to the soil, protect its surface with mulch and avoid repeatedly walking over growing beds. They can observe which areas dry out, become waterlogged or produce disappointing crops.

Crop rotation can help limit the build-up of particular pests and diseases. Cover crops can maintain living roots in ground that would otherwise stand bare over winter. The Royal Horticultural Society identifies both approaches as useful parts of managing a vegetable garden.

These practices do not guarantee vegetables with higher mineral content. Soil conditions, crop variety and other factors still matter. But growing close to home gives people a direct opportunity to improve and understand the ground that feeds them.

The soil becomes something to maintain for the future.

From the garden to the kitchen

Home growing also shortens the time between harvesting and eating.

Leaves can be picked shortly before a meal. Beans can be gathered when tender. Soft fruit can ripen on the plant rather than being selected primarily for its ability to survive handling and transport.

This can improve flavour and reduce waste. It may also help preserve nutrients sensitive to storage, although freshly harvested food is not automatically superior in every respect. Research comparing fresh, frozen and canned produce shows that nutrient retention varies with the food, processing and storage conditions.

The practical advantage is choice. A household can harvest what it needs and eat it promptly.

Growing for the table

A commercial crop must satisfy several demands. It needs to yield reliably, withstand handling and reach customers in saleable condition.

A home grower can give more weight to flavour, suitability for the site and the preferences of those who will eat it. A local market gardener selling directly to customers has some of the same freedom.

There is room for a wider range of vegetables and varieties. Crops need not all mature together. Small successive sowings can provide food over several weeks.

Older varieties are not necessarily more nutritious. Their value lies partly in widening the choices available and helping growers discover what performs well in their own conditions.

Less dependence on purchased food

A garden will rarely feed a household completely. Even a modest contribution, however, can be useful.

Salad leaves, herbs, beans, courgettes and soft fruit can supplement bought food. Where space permits, potatoes, onions, roots and winter greens can make a more substantial contribution.

Savings depend on the cost of equipment, water, seeds and compost, as well as successful harvests. An expensive greenhouse is not essential to begin. A small productive bed may be more useful than an ambitious plot that becomes difficult to manage.

Seasonal outdoor growing can also reduce the need for packaging, refrigeration and transport. Those gains are greatest when cultivation uses modest inputs and the produce is eaten or preserved rather than wasted.

A place for everyone

Not everyone has land, strength or time to grow vegetables.

Local food production should therefore extend beyond individual gardens. Shared plots, accessible raised beds, neighbourhood growing groups and small commercial gardens can involve more people.

One person may raise seedlings. Another may tend beds, organise deliveries or preserve surplus produce. People who cannot undertake heavy work can still contribute knowledge and other useful skills.

Local growers also need customers. Buying from a nearby producer can support local food production just as growing at home can.

Food within a localist economy

As households face pressure on their spending, food remains essential. Local growing offers one way to direct land, skills and work towards that need.

It creates opportunities for small businesses supplying vegetables, seedlings, compost, tools and garden services. It also supports activity outside the money economy: shared harvests, exchanged seeds and help between neighbours.

National supplies will remain necessary. But a locality with productive gardens and nearby growers has an additional source of food and practical knowledge.

The nutritional concern raised by this report points towards a broader responsibility. We need to consider the condition of the soil, the quality of the harvest and whether people can obtain a varied diet.

Growing locally and at home brings those questions within reach. It connects the care of the ground with the food on the table.

Source: Vegetables half as nutritious as they were in the 1960s, The Telegraph, 7 October 2026.

414, Cob Cottages: Local Materials and Modern Building Standards

Cob cottages were built mainly from earth, straw and water. Their walls needed no brick kiln. Much of the material could come from close to the building site.

For localism, this makes cob worth reconsidering. It offers an example of housing shaped by local resources, practical knowledge and human labour. Modern Building Regulations allow this approach in England, but a new cob cottage must demonstrate that it is safe, durable and sufficiently energy-efficient.

What were cob cottages made of?

Traditional cob used subsoil containing clay, mixed with sand, small stones or other suitable aggregate, straw and water. The clay bound the mixture together. The aggregate helped control shrinkage, while the straw reinforced it.

The proportions depended on the earth available. There was no single recipe suitable for every locality. Builders used mineral subsoil rather than fertile topsoil containing roots and other organic matter.

Animal dung sometimes appeared in historical mixtures. It was not essential. Its presence may sometimes have resulted from cattle treading the material during mixing.

Cob is particularly associated with Devon and the South-West. Related earth-building traditions include clom in west Wales, clay dabbins in Cumbria and wychert in Buckinghamshire. Their differences reflected local materials and experience.

How were they built?

Builders thoroughly mixed the earth, water and straw. People or animals could tread the mixture to combine it.

In mass cob construction, the material was placed directly onto the wall in successive layers, often called lifts. Each lift needed time to firm up before more weight was added. The wall faces were trimmed to shape.

Clay-lump construction used a different method. Earth was moulded into blocks, dried and then laid as walling. Neither method required firing in a kiln.

A complete cottage still needed other materials. Masonry formed the protective base. Timber supplied roof members, floors, doors and window frames. Roof coverings could include thatch, slate or tiles.

Keeping the walls dry

Earth walls need protection from excessive water.

Traditional cottages commonly had raised masonry bases and generous roof overhangs. The base reduced contact with ground moisture and rain splash. The roof sheltered the wall faces. Good drainage and sound roof coverings were essential.

Lime or earth finishes could protect the walls while allowing them to dry. Inappropriate cement render and waterproof coatings can trap moisture and cause deterioration. Properly maintained earth buildings can survive for centuries.

Their survival shows that earth can be durable. It also shows the importance of suitable design and maintenance.

Do current Building Regulations allow cob?

Yes. In England, Building Regulations do not require every house to be made from brick, concrete block or another standard manufactured product.

Approved Document 7 explains that the solutions described in the government’s guidance are not exclusive. Other materials can be suitable. What matters is whether the materials and workmanship perform adequately in the circumstances in which they are used.

This provides a route for cob construction. It does not mean that any mixture of earth and straw will be acceptable. The suitability of the material and the design must be demonstrated.

A new cob cottage must meet the relevant requirements for the whole dwelling. These include structural stability, fire safety, resistance to moisture, ventilation, energy efficiency, drainage and access. Cob walls are only one part of that assessment.

The practical approach is to involve building control early, supported by a designer and structural engineer with experience of earth construction. Evidence may include soil and material tests, structural calculations, moisture details and energy calculations.

Planning permission is a separate matter. An acceptable construction method does not establish a right to build a house on a particular piece of land.

The energy-efficiency challenge

The earlier claim that thick cob walls make a comfortable house needs qualification.

Earth walls can store heat and release it slowly. This can moderate temperature changes. However, heat storage and insulation are different properties. A traditional cob wall cannot simply be assumed to meet the standards required of a new dwelling.

The design may need additional insulation or an earth construction system developed to provide better thermal performance. Any insulation must also be compatible with the wall’s moisture behaviour.

Roof insulation, windows, airtightness, ventilation and heating all contribute to the result. A local material can therefore be combined with modern design to produce a comfortable home.

The rules also continue to develop. England has published new energy and ventilation guidance for the Future Homes and Buildings Standards. The associated regulations generally come into force on 24 March 2027, subject to transitional arrangements. A proposed project must establish which requirements apply to it.

Why cob matters to localism

Brickmaking requires fuel for firing. Cob avoids that stage. Where suitable earth is available nearby, it can also reduce the movement of heavy walling materials.

The localism argument follows from these practical differences. As energy and transport become more expensive, methods using nearby resources may become more attractive.

Cob could support connected local occupations. These include earth building, carpentry, lime plastering, roof maintenance and the supply of straw and timber. Skills would remain within the locality, alongside the ability to repair what had been built.

This would replace some dependence on industrial production with greater dependence on skilled labour. It could provide useful employment for people moving from discretionary work into the provision of essentials.

Could cob become affordable housing?

Possibly, but cheap earth does not automatically produce a cheap house.

Cob construction requires labour, drying time and suitable weather. Testing, design, foundations, roofing, services and regulatory compliance still cost money. Additional insulation may also be necessary.

Affordability would depend on the site, the design, access to skilled workers and how the work was organised. Local training and repeated use of well-developed designs could help.

A sensible beginning would be to repair existing earth buildings, train builders and construct demonstration projects. Experience could then support new homes.

Cob is a practical possibility within modern building rules. Its contribution to localism would come from combining nearby materials and skilled hands with homes that are safe, dry, comfortable and economical to run.

413. LOCAL BRICKWORKS AND THE FUTURE OF LOCALISM

A locality needs the means to maintain its buildings. Houses, workshops, food stores and agricultural buildings all require repair. Some new buildings will also be needed, even in a shrinking economy.

Local brickmaking could provide part of that essential capacity. It brings together a natural resource, skilled labour and a durable product. Where suitable clay and an affordable source of heat are available, a brickworks could serve several neighbouring localities.

The starting point should be the preservation of existing works and their knowledge. Establishing a new brickworks becomes much harder if the people who understand clay preparation, drying and firing have disappeared.

Examples which survive

Northcot Brick at Blockley in Gloucestershire uses clay from its own quarry. It retains handmade brickmaking alongside machine production. The works was established in 1925 partly to provide housing and employment for local people. That original purpose has a clear connection with localism.

H.G. Matthews, near Chesham in Buckinghamshire, produces handmade wood-fired bricks. It also uses woodchip to provide heat for drying. Its experience offers a practical connection between brickmaking and a wood economy.

Bulmer Brick & Tile, near Sudbury, is a small family business using clay from its own seams. Its specialised bricks support the repair of existing buildings. York Handmade Brick at Alne in North Yorkshire provides another example of an independent manufacturer with a brickworks and quarry site.

These businesses demonstrate that the skills survive. They do not establish that every locality could produce cheap bricks. Their methods, fuel requirements and costs would need careful examination.

Repair before expansion

In a shrinking economy, the purpose of a local brickworks would increasingly be to maintain useful buildings.

Repairing a wall or extending a workshop may require relatively few bricks. Matching older brick sizes and shapes can be especially valuable. A small works could develop its business around these needs.

Reclamation could form a complementary activity. Suitable bricks recovered from demolition could be sorted, assessed and offered for reuse. New bricks would fill the gaps which reclaimed supplies cannot meet.

Reclaimed bricks still need assessment for their intended use. Their previous survival does not establish that every brick is suitable for an exposed external wall.

How to establish a small brickworks

The first task is to investigate demand. Local builders, property owners and conservation specialists could identify the sizes, quantities and types of brick they need. This would help determine whether a works could support itself.

A local enterprise needs enough regular orders to cover wages, fuel, maintenance and the occasional unsuccessful batch.

The second task is to investigate the clay. A deposit which looks suitable may crack during drying or distort during firing. Samples should be examined by a ceramics laboratory and used to make trial bricks. Tests establish how the material behaves and whether blending is necessary.

Trial batches should, where possible, be fired in an existing suitable kiln. This allows the clay and proposed product to be assessed before money is committed to a permanent works.

Choosing and arranging the site

A suitable site would bring together clay supply, water, fuel storage, access and enough space to keep production moving.

A proposed small works would need:

  • A clay storage and preparation area.
  • A covered moulding workshop.
  • Drying sheds or a controlled drying chamber.
  • A kiln area with safe access.
  • Covered fuel storage.
  • Space for cooling, inspection and finished stock.
  • Access for deliveries and collection.

The layout should minimise repeated handling. Clay would move through preparation, moulding, drying and firing, followed by inspection and storage.

Before acquiring or developing a site, the organisers should establish the planning and environmental requirements with the relevant authorities. Clay extraction and brick manufacture raise separate questions. The requirements depend on the location, scale and process, including kiln emissions. The UK nations have different regulatory arrangements.

Making the bricks

Clay preparation involves breaking down and mixing the material to obtain a consistent body. A small works might use a clay mixer or pugmill, with hand moulding for suitable products.

Moulds must allow for the shrinkage established through trials. Newly moulded bricks then need controlled drying before firing. Drying too quickly or unevenly can damage them.

The kiln heats the dried bricks according to a firing programme suited to their clay. Cooling also needs control. The finished bricks are inspected and sorted. This sequence requires practical experience as well as equipment.

Handmaking can provide skilled employment. Sensible machinery can reduce exhausting preparation and handling work. A localist enterprise should choose equipment which it can maintain and afford.

Building the kiln

The kiln is likely to be the most demanding part of the project.

For modest, intermittent production, a batch kiln would be worth investigating with an experienced kiln designer. Its capacity should match both demand and the drying facilities.

Construction requires suitable refractory materials, insulation, foundations, combustion equipment, flues and temperature monitoring. The detailed design must follow from the chosen clay, fuel and production rate. A general sketch is insufficient for building a reliable commercial kiln.

An oversized kiln could leave the business waiting for enough orders to fill it. An undersized one could consume too much labour and fuel for the output obtained.

Fuel and the wood economy

Wood firing deserves investigation where a dependable woodland supply exists. H.G. Matthews shows that it can be used commercially. Its wood-fired kilns hold about 60,000 bricks and are stoked day and night for up to five days. This illustrates the commitment involved.

A proposed works would need a fuel budget based on trial firings. Available woodland growth would have to be considered alongside competing needs for household heat and other uses.

Wood fuel also needs preparation, drying and storage. Local availability does not make its cost or environmental effects disappear.

Recovering kiln heat for drying could improve the process where the design permits it. The appropriate arrangement would need specialist assessment.

Quality and viability

Bricks intended for buildings need evidence of performance. Relevant tests include strength, water absorption and resistance to freezing and thawing. Their suitability depends on the intended application and exposure.

The works would also need records linking each batch to its clay mixture, drying conditions and firing programme. These would help identify faults and maintain consistency.

Before full production, the organisers should calculate the cost per saleable brick. The calculation must include rejected bricks, labour, fuel, testing, equipment upkeep and delivery.

The most credible route is gradual: establish demand, test the clay, obtain trial firings, confirm the site requirements and only then commission the permanent facilities.

A local brickworks could become an enduring part of a locality’s essential economy. Its value would come from reliable materials, skilled work and the ability to maintain buildings close to home.