395. The Energy Crisis Will Be a Crisis of Affordability

This article was prompted by Gail Tverberg’s important essay, “Affordability, Not Scarcity, Is the Real Energy Crisis”, published on Our Finite World. Her original article, including its charts and detailed historical analysis, should be read at the link.

The conventional picture of an energy crisis is one of physical shortage. Oil wells begin to run dry, petrol prices soar and queues form outside filling stations. Governments respond by searching for new supplies or subsidising alternatives.

Tverberg presents a more complicated and much more disturbing possibility. The immediate problem may not be that the world has no oil, gas or coal left. It may be that the economy can no longer afford to extract and use them at the prices producers require.

Energy can therefore become unaffordable in two different ways.

If its price rises sufficiently to cover the increasing cost of extraction, transport and processing, households and businesses cannot afford to buy enough of it. Demand falls and the economy contracts.

If its price falls to what consumers can afford, producers may be unable to justify investment in new mines, wells, pipelines, refineries and power stations. Production then becomes financially unviable.

There may be plenty of energy remaining underground, yet no price at which the whole system works satisfactorily.

Energy and economic growth

The industrial economy did not develop independently of energy. It was created by the growing availability of relatively cheap coal, oil and gas.

Cheap energy allowed mechanised farming, mass manufacturing and long-distance transport. It supported the growth of large cities and international supply chains. It enabled rising wages, expanding consumer markets and the construction of millions of homes. Credit could expand because lenders expected future economic growth to make debts repayable.

Tverberg connects periods of rapidly growing energy consumption with rising living standards. She also identifies troubled periods when energy consumption grew slowly or contracted. These periods were associated with financial crises, political instability, wars and the failure of governments.

This does not mean that energy alone explains every historical event. It does suggest that political and financial systems become much harder to sustain when the energy available to support each person is no longer increasing.

Our present arrangements were built during an age of expansion. They depend upon continuing expansion. Governments, pension systems, banks, property markets and businesses all make promises based upon the assumption that tomorrow’s economy will be larger than today’s.

If the economy is shrinking instead, many of those promises cannot be honoured.

Why low prices are not necessarily good news

We are accustomed to regarding falling oil prices as beneficial. They reduce the cost of transport, heating and production.

In a weakening economy, however, a low oil price may be evidence that households and businesses lack purchasing power. People travel less, buy fewer cars, postpone buying homes and reduce discretionary spending. Factories produce less and freight movements decline.

Falling demand then pushes energy prices below the level needed by producers. Investment is cancelled. Older fields continue to decline and new supplies are not developed quickly enough.

The apparent abundance may therefore be misleading. Oil is available, but only because fewer people can afford to use it. Meanwhile, the productive system required to maintain future supplies is deteriorating.

This explains why scarcity and affordability cannot be separated from the wider economy. A barrel of oil has no economic value unless someone can afford to buy the products made from it. Equally, an oilfield cannot continue operating unless its income covers the cost of machinery, skilled labour, finance and replacement infrastructure.

The debt problem

Debt has allowed governments and households to postpone recognition of the affordability crisis.

Borrowing creates additional spending power in the present. It can support house prices, consumer spending, public services and business investment even when underlying prosperity is weakening. But borrowing is a claim upon future production.

If future production does not grow, the debt becomes harder to service. Governments borrow more to cover existing commitments. Businesses refinance loans that cannot realistically be repaid. Households devote a rising proportion of their income to mortgages, rent, energy and food.

Eventually, borrowing ceases to disguise contraction and begins to intensify it. Banks become cautious. Investment falls. Property prices weaken. Unemployment increases and tax receipts decline.

The financial economy may continue to report growth for a time, particularly when inflation is included. The material economy can nevertheless be shrinking underneath it.

The implications for the future

The future may not be characterised by one dramatic moment when energy suddenly runs out. It is more likely to consist of repeated losses of affordability.

People will give up discretionary purchases first. New cars, holidays, restaurant meals, entertainment and non-essential household improvements will become less frequent. Businesses dependent upon these purchases will contract.

Housebuilding will suffer because the combined cost of land, materials, energy, labour, finance and regulation exceeds what buyers can afford. Existing property prices may also weaken as mortgages become harder to obtain and household incomes come under pressure.

Governments will face the same difficulty. The cost of maintaining roads, hospitals, schools, defence, pensions and public administration will rise while the tax base becomes less dependable. Borrowing may postpone reductions, but it cannot permanently replace the productive economy from which public revenue ultimately comes.

Large projects will become particularly vulnerable. High-speed railways, data centres, complex renewable-energy systems and major urban developments require huge quantities of energy, materials, finance and specialist labour. A government may announce them, but completion and continued maintenance are separate questions.

Global supply chains will also become less reliable. Higher shipping, insurance and financing costs must be absorbed somewhere. Consumers may be unable to pay more, while producers and farmers cannot indefinitely accept less.

The result is likely to be declining variety as well as declining quantity. Goods that depend upon complicated international supply systems may disappear long before the basic materials from which they are made become physically exhausted.

The localist response

Tverberg describes the economy as a self-organising system. When one form of economic organisation becomes unworkable, people do not simply stop living. They find different ways of meeting their needs.

This is where localism becomes important.

Localism is not a government scheme for reproducing the present economy on a smaller scale. It is the natural reorganisation of economic life around what remains necessary, affordable and locally possible.

Food production, repair, care, basic building, water management, woodland work and small-scale energy provision will become relatively more important. Discretionary employment will decline, releasing people who will need to find useful work closer to where they live.

Localities with fertile land, water, practical skills, workshops and strong social relationships may be more prosperous in real terms than places which retain high financial incomes but depend completely upon distant supplies.

Prosperity will have to be understood differently. It may consist less of the number of new products purchased and more of secure food, maintained homes, dependable neighbours and access to essential services.

National government will remain necessary for activities such as defence, telecommunications, specialist medicine, intercity rail and the maintenance of a common legal and monetary framework. But it may no longer possess the resources to organise every aspect of life from the centre.

More responsibility will fall upon localities, families, small businesses and informal networks. This will not necessarily happen because government deliberately chooses localism. It will happen because centralised systems become too expensive and unreliable.

Preparing for a different economy

The importance of Tverberg’s argument is that it moves the discussion beyond the simple question of how much energy remains.

The decisive question is how much useful energy society can afford after meeting the costs of obtaining it. If those costs rise while household purchasing power falls, the industrial economy can contract even though substantial physical resources remain.

Governments will continue to describe each difficulty as temporary. They will promise renewed growth through borrowing, technology or investment. Some innovations will undoubtedly help. But technology cannot remove its own dependence upon energy, materials, infrastructure and paying customers.

The sensible response is not to attempt to predict an exact date for collapse. It is to make households and localities less dependent upon systems whose affordability is deteriorating.

The future may contain less energy, less mobility and fewer material choices. It need not contain less human purpose. As the growth economy loses its ability to provide, people will begin to rebuild economic life around necessity, proximity and sufficiency.

Localism will not prevent the shrinking economy. It is how we may learn to live within it.

387. Small Nuclear Reactors, Localism and the Shrinking Economy

The decision to manufacture steam turbines for Rolls-Royce’s small modular reactors in Newcastle is important. It will return a major engineering capability to Britain after an absence of more than 20 years.

Siemens Energy plans to make the turbines at the historic Parsons Works. The investment is expected to create 550 skilled jobs. The factory will also service the turbines throughout their working lives, providing employment that could continue for decades.

The turbines will be used in three Rolls-Royce small modular reactors planned for Anglesey. Further reactors may be built in the Czech Republic and Sweden. Each reactor will be capable of generating 470 megawatts.

This is encouraging news for British manufacturing. It also raises an important question. How does such a large, centralised project fit into a future shaped by localism and a shrinking economy?

Localisation is not necessarily localism

Rolls-Royce describes the decision as part of its commitment to localisation. Manufacturing the turbines in Britain will certainly reduce dependence upon overseas production. It will create British jobs and help to rebuild a domestic supply chain.

That is localisation, but it is not quite the same as localism.

Localism is the movement of economic and social activity towards the places where people live. It involves local food production, care, maintenance, education, workshops and small businesses. It reduces dependence upon distant suppliers and energy-intensive transport.

A 470-megawatt nuclear reactor is not a local power station in this sense. It requires national finance, international supply chains, specialist regulation and connection to the national electricity grid.

The reactors will be situated in Anglesey, but their electricity will not belong principally to the surrounding communities. It will enter the national system and be distributed according to national demand and commercial arrangements.

The description “small modular reactor” can therefore be misleading. It is small in comparison with a conventional nuclear power station, but it remains an enormous and technically complex installation. It cannot be designed, financed, operated or decommissioned by a locality.

Rebuilding productive capability

Nevertheless, the return of turbine manufacturing to Newcastle has considerable relevance to localism.

Britain has allowed many of its productive capabilities to disappear. Machinery, electrical equipment and components for essential infrastructure are routinely imported. Once factories, workshops and skilled workforces have been lost, they are difficult and expensive to recreate.

The Parsons Works has an exceptional industrial history. It was established in 1889 by Sir Charles Parsons, whose steam turbine transformed marine propulsion and electricity generation. The turbine for Calder Hall, the world’s first commercial nuclear power station, was built there.

Returning large turbine production to Newcastle reconnects a modern project with that industrial inheritance. It means that Britain will recover some of the practical knowledge needed to construct and maintain essential equipment.

The effects could extend beyond the 550 direct jobs. The factory may support apprenticeships, engineering colleges, specialist contractors, metalworking businesses and maintenance services throughout the surrounding locality.

An economy cannot live indefinitely by consuming imported goods, providing services and increasing debt. It must retain the ability to make and repair essential things.

A national core supporting local economies

Localism does not mean that everything must be organised at village or town level. Some systems are too large or specialised to be provided locally.

A localist future is likely to have two levels.

The first would be a limited national core. It might include defence, telecommunications, the main railway network, specialist hospitals and major electricity generation.

The second would consist of numerous local economies providing food, care, education, housing, maintenance and everyday necessities.

Nuclear power belongs mainly to the national core. Its purpose would be to provide dependable electricity for activities that cannot function without it.

That electricity could then support local food processing, refrigeration, water supplies, sawmills, workshops, health facilities and small manufacturers. Nationally generated electricity would help localities meet their own essential needs.

The reactors would not themselves constitute localism. They could provide part of the framework within which localism develops.

The shrinking economy

The shrinking economy makes the proposed reactors both more valuable and more difficult to build.

They could provide secure electricity as fossil fuels become less affordable. At the same time, their construction depends upon the large and complex industrial economy that is beginning to contract.

Nuclear power requires enormous expenditure many years before any electricity is produced. The Anglesey project is intended to demonstrate commercial viability by the mid-2030s.

During that period, the Government may face declining tax revenues, rising borrowing costs and growing demands upon health and social care. It will also have to maintain roads, railways, water systems, public buildings and the electricity grid.

The Government will increasingly have to choose between maintaining existing essential services and financing new infrastructure. A project that appears affordable in a growing economy may become much less affordable when the economy is contracting.

Rising material and construction costs

A nuclear reactor requires large quantities of steel, concrete, copper and specialised components. Producing and transporting these materials requires energy.

As energy becomes more expensive, the cost of mining, steelmaking, manufacturing, transport and construction will rise. The costs of security, waste management and eventual decommissioning must also be met.

SMRs are supposed to reduce costs through standardisation and factory production. This advantage will only be realised if sufficient numbers of identical reactors are ordered.

Three British reactors may not be enough to provide the expected economies of scale. Orders from the Czech Republic, Sweden and other countries are therefore important to the commercial case.

If weakening economies cause orders to be postponed or cancelled, the anticipated cost reductions may never appear.

Continuing international dependence

The Newcastle decision reduces one important dependency, but the reactors will not be wholly British.

Reactor pressure vessels may be imported from South Korea or the Czech Republic. Other specialised components will also depend upon international suppliers. Even the Newcastle turbines will be manufactured by Siemens Energy, a German-owned company.

A shrinking world economy may make these supply chains less dependable. Manufacturers may close. Governments may protect strategic industries. Transport costs may rise. Countries may give priority to their own energy projects.

Bringing production home wherever possible is therefore sensible. It reduces exposure to international disruption and preserves skills that might otherwise disappear.

The Government’s objective of manufacturing 70 per cent of the components in Britain should be regarded as a measure of resilience, not merely a way of creating jobs.

The cost of the grid

Generating electricity is only part of the undertaking. The national grid must carry it to consumers.

Britain must maintain transmission lines, substations, transformers, control equipment and local distribution systems. Much of this infrastructure will require renewal or expansion.

In a shrinking economy, the grid may become increasingly difficult to finance. A declining industrial base could reduce total electricity consumption while leaving the country with high fixed costs. Fewer economically active consumers would have to support an expensive national system.

Electricity could therefore remain costly even if the reactors operate successfully.

Energy security does not automatically mean energy affordability.

Competition for skilled workers

Nuclear construction requires engineers, welders, electricians, inspectors and project managers. These skills are also needed to maintain railways, water systems, power stations and other essential infrastructure.

A shrinking economy will not necessarily release the right workers in the right places. It may instead create intense competition for a limited supply of specialist labour.

The Newcastle factory could help by providing apprenticeships and continuous employment. But 550 jobs will not recreate the enormous industrial ecosystem Britain possessed when Calder Hall and Sizewell B were built.

Skills take years to develop. They must be supported by colleges, workshops, suppliers and a dependable stream of orders.

Nuclear power will not restore growth

The greatest danger is the belief that new nuclear power will restore the growth economy.

Electricity is not a complete replacement for fossil fuels. Nuclear reactors do not directly provide diesel for tractors, excavators, heavy lorries, ships and construction machinery.

Some of these activities may be electrified. Doing so would require another enormous programme of manufacturing and investment. The reactors themselves will be built using an economy still heavily dependent upon oil, gas and internationally traded materials.

Nuclear power cannot reproduce the conditions of cheap and abundant fossil energy upon which the modern industrial economy was built.

It may help to preserve essential services within a smaller economy. That is a more limited purpose, but it is still an important one.

Reindustrialisation on different terms

The Newcastle announcement has been presented as evidence of the Government’s intention to reindustrialise Britain.

That should not be taken to mean that Britain can recreate the expanding industrial economy of the twentieth century. The energy and financial conditions that sustained that economy are disappearing.

Reindustrialisation in a shrinking economy will have to be selective. Britain must decide which productive capabilities are essential and ensure that they are retained. Turbine manufacturing may be one of them. Much discretionary production will not be.

The purpose of industry will increasingly be to maintain essential systems rather than to support ever-rising consumption.

This means producing equipment that can be maintained, repaired and used for many years. The servicing operation at Newcastle may ultimately be as important as the original manufacture of the turbines.

Build while the capability remains

There is an argument for proceeding while Britain still possesses the capital, skills, international purchasing power and industrial organisation needed to build the reactors.

These capabilities cannot be assumed to exist indefinitely. Delay could allow costs to rise until the projects are no longer possible.

This creates a difficult choice. Building the reactors will consume capital, energy and materials that could be used elsewhere. Failing to build them could leave Britain without enough dependable electricity to maintain essential services later.

The decision should therefore be based upon realistic expectations of a smaller economy. The reactors should be designed as part of an essential national core, not as instruments for restoring perpetual growth.

The shrinking economy strengthens the need for secure electricity while weakening our ability to finance it.

The return of turbine manufacturing to Newcastle is encouraging because it restores a valuable productive capability. But the ultimate importance of the reactors will not be measured by whether they revive the former growth economy.

It will be measured by whether they can provide affordable and dependable electricity for the essential national systems and resilient local economies upon which life in a smaller economy will depend.

385. Just Stop Oil and the Shrinking Economy

Just Stop Oil may be seen as an early sign of the changes that will accompany the shrinking economy.

However, the reduction in oil use is unlikely to happen simply because governments prohibit it. It will happen increasingly because oil, diesel fuel and the activities that depend upon them become less affordable.

The modern industrial economy was built upon abundant, inexpensive fossil energy. Diesel fuel made possible large tractors, combine harvesters, construction machinery, road haulage and the daily delivery of food to supermarkets. It allowed factories to draw materials from across the world and distribute finished goods through national and international markets.

As energy becomes more expensive, the economy cannot continue operating on the same scale. A rising proportion of its resources must be devoted simply to obtaining energy, maintaining infrastructure and servicing debt. Less remains for discretionary consumption. The result is not an ordinary recession followed by renewed growth. It is a long-term shrinking of the industrial economy.

Just Stop Oil recognises that dependence upon oil must end. But its emphasis is mainly upon stopping new oil and gas development to limit climate change. Localism approaches the same problem from the direction of economic necessity. It asks what happens when society can no longer afford to use diesel fuel in the quantities to which it has become accustomed.

The answer cannot be the abrupt removal of diesel from every activity. Modern food production and distribution are critically dependent upon it. If diesel supplies were suddenly withdrawn, farmers would struggle to cultivate and harvest crops. Food processors would lose deliveries, and supermarkets could quickly run short. Emergency services, care workers and essential trades would also be affected.

In the shrinking economy, diesel use is more likely to be reduced progressively. The least essential uses will disappear first because people and businesses can no longer afford them. Recreational driving, frequent flights, long-distance commuting and the transport of low-value goods over great distances will become increasingly difficult to sustain.

Diesel will then have to be concentrated upon essential purposes. Agriculture, emergency services, necessary construction and the maintenance of water, electricity and telecommunications may receive priority. The question will no longer be whether oil should be used, but where its declining availability produces the greatest social benefit.

The contraction of road transport

Road haulage is one of the foundations of the industrial economy. Thousands of lorries constantly move food, building materials, components and consumer goods around the country. This system assumes that diesel fuel, vehicles, tyres, spare parts and maintained roads will remain affordable.

A shrinking economy will weaken every part of that system. Haulage charges will rise. Roads will deteriorate as maintenance becomes more expensive. Marginal deliveries will cease to be worthwhile. Businesses dependent upon distant customers or suppliers will become vulnerable.

Rail could carry a greater proportion of essential long-distance freight. Goods could be moved between towns by rail and then distributed locally by smaller vehicles. Over time, electric vans, bicycles, handcarts and perhaps animal-drawn vehicles could undertake some short journeys. None would replace the present haulage system completely. Their importance would lie in creating an economy that required less movement.

Farming with less diesel

Agriculture presents the greatest difficulty. British farming has become dependent upon powerful machinery, imported fertilisers, pesticides and long supply chains. It produces large quantities of food with relatively little human labour, but it does so by consuming considerable amounts of energy.

Reducing diesel use would require more than replacing tractors with electric versions. Batteries capable of powering large machinery are costly, heavy and dependent upon complex international industries. A shrinking economy may not be able to manufacture and replace them on the scale required.

Farms may instead become smaller, more diverse and more labour-intensive. Machinery would continue to be used, but it would be shared, maintained for longer and reserved for work where it offered the greatest advantage. More people might work in food growing, processing and distribution. Horses could return for certain tasks, particularly on smaller farms, in woodland and on difficult ground.

Food production would also move closer to consumers. Local mills, dairies, slaughterhouses, bakeries and preserving businesses would reduce the need to carry food repeatedly across the country. A locality with good land and food-processing skills might become prosperous in practical terms, even while contributing relatively little to the measured growth economy.

Localism will reduce the need for oil

The most effective way to reduce oil consumption is not merely to substitute another fuel. It is to reduce the amount of energy that everyday life requires.

A locality that grows more of its own food needs fewer lorries. A town with local workshops needs fewer distant deliveries. People who live near their work need less transport. Repairing goods reduces manufacturing and shipping. Local markets shorten the distance between producer and customer.

This is where localism differs from many national energy plans. Those plans commonly assume that the industrial economy can continue largely unchanged if petrol and diesel vehicles are replaced by electric ones and fossil-fuelled machinery is supplied with alternative energy.

But electrifying everything would require immense quantities of electricity, copper, batteries, generating equipment and grid infrastructure. These would have to be financed, manufactured and maintained while the wider economy was already shrinking. Some electrification will certainly be useful, but it cannot preserve every part of the present system.

Localism begins with the recognition that less energy will be available and affordable. It therefore reorganises economic life around shorter distances, fewer material demands and locally available resources.

Evolution rather than prohibition

Just Stop Oil looks principally towards government action. Localism is more likely to emerge naturally from economic conditions.

As discretionary spending contracts, businesses serving non-essential markets will close. Workers will seek employment in food production, repair, care, maintenance and other essential activities. Some people will move from places with few viable livelihoods to localities where useful work remains available.

This has happened before. When employment declined in the slate-quarrying areas around Corris, some workers moved to the coalfields of South Wales. Future migration may follow different routes, but the underlying process will be similar. People will move towards places capable of supporting them.

Government cannot prevent the shrinking economy by borrowing more money or announcing another growth strategy. Nor can it design localism in every locality. It can, however, help the natural evolution by protecting essential diesel supplies, supporting rail freight, permitting small-scale food processing and removing regulations that unnecessarily favour large centralised businesses.

An early indication, not the complete answer

Just Stop Oil is therefore coincident with one early movement towards localism. It challenges the belief that increasing quantities of oil will always be available to support economic growth. It helps to make society conscious of a dependence that was previously taken for granted.

But the shrinking economy will reduce oil consumption regardless of protest. People will drive less because driving becomes unaffordable. Businesses will transport fewer goods because their customers have less discretionary income. Farmers will use diesel more carefully because its cost absorbs a growing share of their income.

The essential task is not simply to stop oil. It is to prepare for an economy in which oil, diesel fuel and many other resources are less available and less affordable.

Just Stop Oil asks society to reduce fossil-fuel use because of climate change. The shrinking economy will compel society to reduce it through declining affordability. Localism is the practical way in which people may adapt to both.

374. Batteries in a Shrinking Economy – From Global Growth Technology to Local Resilience

Batteries are often presented as one of the great technologies of the future.

They are central to electric vehicles, renewable energy systems, home storage and the proposed electrification of almost every part of modern life.

The argument is straightforward. Fossil fuels provided society with abundant, concentrated energy. As those fuels become more difficult and expensive to obtain, electricity generated from renewable sources will take their place, with batteries providing the storage needed to make the system work.

Jeff Currie, the commodities economist, represents this view. He argues that electrification will create enormous demand for the materials required to build the new energy system – copper, lithium, nickel, graphite and other minerals. From this perspective, batteries are not a marginal technology. They are at the centre of a new industrial transformation.

However, Tim Morgan’s Surplus Energy Economics provides a very different starting point. His argument is that the world economy has not simply slowed temporarily. The era of economic expansion driven by increasing supplies of affordable surplus energy has ended, and the economy is moving into contraction.

From this perspective, the question is not how batteries will enable another century of economic growth.

The question is how batteries can help communities function in an economy with fewer resources available.

Batteries are not energy sources

The first principle is often overlooked.

A battery does not create energy.

It stores energy that has already been produced.

A battery is like a water tank. It can store water when supplies are plentiful and release it when needed, but it cannot create new water.

The same applies to electricity.

A battery charged from solar panels on a summer afternoon can provide power during the evening. It can help a house, farm or community manage short interruptions. It can smooth out the daily variations of renewable electricity.

These are extremely valuable functions.

But a battery cannot overcome a prolonged shortage of energy.

Several weeks of cold, calm and cloudy weather cannot be solved simply by installing more batteries. The challenge is not only technological. It is a question of scale, resources and the physical limits of energy systems.

The industrial problem

Modern batteries are remarkable achievements of industrial society.

They depend upon global mining, chemical processing, advanced manufacturing and international transport.

Lithium must be extracted and refined. Copper must be mined and processed. Graphite, nickel and other materials must be obtained and transformed into highly engineered components.

This requires enormous amounts of energy and industrial organisation.

The irony is that the technology intended to support a post-fossil fuel economy is itself a product of the high-energy fossil fuel economy.

As long as growth continues, this may not present a major difficulty.

But in a shrinking economy, every complex system comes under pressure.

From replacement to stewardship

A growth economy encourages replacement.

Products are designed, purchased, used and eventually discarded. New versions appear and consumers are encouraged to upgrade.

A shrinking economy works differently.

Resources become too valuable to waste.

Maintenance becomes more important than replacement.

Repair becomes more important than disposal.

This is where batteries become interesting.

They may no longer be viewed as consumer products with a limited life. They may become long-term capital assets requiring careful management.

Lessons from the wireless accumulator

This is not an entirely new idea.

When many households first owned radios, especially in rural areas before universal electricity supply, a wireless set often depended on a lead-acid accumulator.

The accumulator provided the low-voltage electricity needed by the radio valves. When it became discharged, it was not thrown away.

It was taken to a local garage, radio shop or electrical supplier.

There, it was inspected, topped up with distilled water and connected to a charging system. A controlled direct current slowly reversed the chemical reaction inside the battery and restored its charge.

The customer collected the accumulator and returned it to the radio.

The local supplier was not merely selling a product. It was providing an energy service.

The community understood that stored energy required management.

Battery husbandry

This older approach provides a useful model for the future.

Previous generations practised what might be called equipment husbandry.

A farmer maintained a tractor because replacing it was expensive.

A village maintained a water pump because it was essential.

Tools were repaired because they represented accumulated knowledge and resources.

The same principle may apply to batteries.

Battery husbandry means treating batteries as valuable assets rather than disposable objects.

It involves:

  • extending battery life,
  • careful charging and discharging,
  • repairing damaged packs,
  • replacing individual components where possible,
  • recovering useful materials,
  • sharing specialist knowledge locally.

A community skilled in battery husbandry would be less dependent on distant manufacturers and fragile supply chains.

Batteries as local infrastructure

In a shrinking economy, batteries may become part of local infrastructure.

A village might operate shared battery storage connected to solar panels.

A farm might store electricity to maintain refrigeration, water pumping and essential machinery.

A community workshop might repair battery packs and recover components from older equipment.

The important question changes.

It is no longer:

“How many batteries can we produce?”

It becomes:

“How can we obtain the greatest benefit from the batteries we already have?”

A different hierarchy of use

A shrinking economy will require different priorities.

Some uses of batteries may become difficult to justify.

Large battery packs moving heavy vehicles carrying a single person may appear wasteful when compared with other needs.

The same battery capacity used for water systems, food storage, communications, emergency services or local workshops may provide much greater community value.

The issue is not whether batteries are useful.

They clearly are.

The issue is where they should be used.

The future of batteries

Jeff Currie is right that batteries represent a major industrial demand for minerals and that electrification requires enormous investment.

Tim Morgan is right to ask whether the economic system required to build and maintain that technology can continue expanding in a world of declining surplus energy.

The localist answer lies between these two views.

Batteries are neither a magic solution nor an unnecessary technology.

They are valuable tools.

But in a shrinking economy their greatest contribution may not be enabling unlimited consumption. It may be helping localities preserve essential services, maintain resilience and make careful use of the energy resources that remain.

The future of batteries may therefore look less like a technological revolution and more like a return to an older principle:

Energy is something to be managed, maintained and husbanded carefully.

The battery may become the modern equivalent of the village mill, the water pump or the well – a vital local asset whose value comes not from novelty, but from dependable service over many years.

374. Data Centres, Electricity and the Shrinking Economy

Ofgem’s decision to require developers of data centres to lodge substantial deposits before securing a grid connection has been presented as a simple administrative reform. Too many speculative applications are clogging the queue for new electricity connections, delaying projects that are actually ready to proceed.

But beneath this bureaucratic change lies a much bigger story.

The problem is not really the queue. The problem is that Britain is beginning to discover that electricity is no longer an unlimited resource.

For generations we have assumed that economic growth simply required more investment. If demand increased, more power stations would be built, more transmission lines erected and more capacity made available. The industrial economy was founded on this assumption.

That assumption is now breaking down.

The country is attempting to electrify transport, heating and much of industry while simultaneously expanding artificial intelligence, cloud computing and digital services. Every one of these developments demands more electricity, yet the energy system itself is becoming more expensive and more difficult to expand.

This is exactly what a shrinking economy looks like.

A shrinking economy is not one in which everything suddenly stops. It is one in which physical limits gradually replace financial ones. Money may still be available, but energy, materials, skilled labour and engineering capacity become increasingly scarce. Instead of asking, “Can we afford it?” society begins asking, “Can we actually build it?”

The queue for electricity connections is one manifestation of this transition.

The race to build AI data centres illustrates the problem perfectly. The world’s largest technology companies are investing hundreds of billions of pounds in facilities that consume astonishing quantities of electricity. Some proposed British developments would require as much power as a medium-sized city.

Yet every megawatt devoted to a data centre is a megawatt that cannot be used elsewhere.

As surplus energy declines, these choices become unavoidable.

For most of the industrial age there was enough surplus energy to support almost every new activity. Today that surplus is steadily shrinking. More of society’s effort is required simply to obtain and distribute energy itself. Less remains available for discretionary activities.

This changes the nature of economic decision-making.

The important question is no longer how rapidly we can expand electricity generation. It is how wisely we allocate the electricity we already have.

From a localist perspective the priorities are obvious.

Communities need reliable electricity for homes, water supplies, food production, workshops, healthcare, communications and local businesses. These are the foundations of everyday life.

By contrast, much of the electricity demanded by large AI data centres supports activities that are geographically distant and economically concentrated. The benefits accrue largely to global corporations, while the costs are carried by national infrastructure and local communities.

This is not an argument against technology. Digital communications, local computing and information systems have an important role to play in the future.

It is an argument against believing that every new technological possibility deserves equal access to increasingly scarce resources.

The industrial age encouraged centralisation because energy appeared abundant and cheap. Enormous generating stations supplied electricity across national networks to ever larger centres of population and industry. Scale appeared to solve every problem.

The emerging age of contraction points in the opposite direction.

Local generation, local storage and local resilience become more valuable as national systems become increasingly stretched. Solar panels on roofs, community batteries, small-scale wind generation, micro-hydro schemes and neighbourhood energy systems cannot replace the national grid, but they can reduce dependence upon it while strengthening local resilience.

Most importantly, they encourage communities to think differently about energy.

Electricity is no longer something that can simply be assumed to exist in unlimited quantities. It becomes a resource to be managed carefully, directed first towards essential needs before discretionary wants.

The debate over data centres is therefore about much more than planning applications or connection fees.

It is one of the first visible signs that Britain is entering an era in which physical limits matter once again.

The shrinking economy will increasingly require difficult choices over where scarce energy should be used. Those choices will determine whether communities become more resilient or more dependent.

Localism provides one answer. Rather than chasing ever greater concentrations of energy and economic activity, it seeks to build capable localities that can meet more of their own needs with fewer external resources.

The queue for electricity connections is not simply an administrative inconvenience. It is a glimpse of the future.

The age of unlimited expansion is drawing to a close. The age of careful allocation has already begun.

371. Surplus Energy Economics and the Localist Future

Dr Tim Morgan’s latest essay, #327: Surplus Energy Economics, is perhaps the clearest and most complete summary yet of the ideas he has been developing over the last thirteen years. Rather than introducing new theories, it draws together the evidence into one coherent explanation of why the era of economic growth is ending and what may follow.

For anyone interested in localism, it is an important document because it describes the physical limits that make a more local society not simply desirable but increasingly inevitable.

The economy runs on energy, not money

Morgan begins with a simple observation. The economy is not fundamentally a financial system. It is a system for supplying goods and services. Money merely records claims upon that production.

This seems obvious, yet modern economics often behaves as though money itself creates wealth. Governments, banks and investors increasingly judge success by GDP, stock market values and financial assets rather than by the economy’s ability to provide food, housing, energy and essential services.

Morgan argues that this is the wrong way round. Wealth comes first from energy and physical resources. Money only has value because it represents claims upon those resources.

The importance of surplus energy

Every energy source requires energy to obtain it.

Coal must be mined.

Oil must be drilled, transported and refined.

Wind turbines and solar panels must be manufactured, installed, connected to the grid and eventually replaced.

The energy left over after obtaining energy is what Morgan calls surplus energy. This surplus powers everything else in society – farming, manufacturing, healthcare, education, transport, entertainment and government.

His central argument is that the Energy Cost of Energy (ECoE) has been rising steadily for decades. More of society’s total energy is now consumed simply in obtaining more energy, leaving less available for everything else. According to his estimates, average ECoE has risen from around 2% in 1980 to more than 11% today.

This is not simply an energy problem.

It becomes an economic problem.

Why growth has stalled

Traditional economics assumes that growth can continue indefinitely through technology, finance and innovation.

Morgan disagrees.

He argues that technological improvements have not been able to overcome the steadily increasing energy cost of obtaining usable energy. As surplus energy falls, so does the ability of the economy to expand.

Debt, quantitative easing and financial engineering have delayed recognition of this reality but cannot remove the underlying physical constraint.

From this perspective, many of today’s problems begin to make sense.

  • Falling living standards.
  • Increasing inequality.
  • Rising government debt.
  • Asset bubbles.
  • Political instability.
  • Competition for resources.
  • Declining affordability of essential goods.

These are symptoms rather than separate problems.

The connection with localism

This is where localism enters the picture.

Many people still think localism is a lifestyle choice, a political preference or nostalgia for village life.

Morgan’s work suggests something much deeper.

As surplus energy declines, highly centralised systems become progressively harder to maintain.

Long supply chains.

Global food systems.

Just-in-time distribution.

Mass commuting.

Disposable consumer goods.

International tourism.

Large bureaucracies.

All depend upon abundant surplus energy.

As that surplus declines, societies naturally begin shifting towards simpler, shorter and more local systems.

Essential replaces discretionary

Morgan distinguishes between essential and discretionary activities.

Essential activities include food production, water, housing, healthcare and basic transport.

Discretionary activities include much of modern consumer culture – endless product choice, fast fashion, frequent flying, luxury consumption and many financial services.

As energy becomes scarcer, society increasingly directs resources towards essentials.

This is exactly the direction that localism has advocated for years.

The future economy is likely to become less concerned with consumption and more concerned with resilience.

A more labour-intensive society

Another conclusion follows naturally.

Where abundant fossil energy once replaced human labour, declining surplus energy means more work will again be done by people.

That does not necessarily imply hardship.

It may instead mean more gardeners, growers, builders, repairers, foresters, craftspeople, carers and local manufacturers.

Many activities abandoned because fossil fuels made them uneconomic may once again become worthwhile.

Small farms become viable.

Repair replaces replacement.

Local food processing returns.

Community skills regain their value.

What local communities should be doing now

Morgan ends on a remarkably optimistic note.

He argues that a post-growth economy is entirely manageable if societies begin developing local, bottom-up institutions before centralised systems weaken further.

That observation deserves careful attention.

Waiting until national systems fail would be a mistake.

Communities can begin preparing now by:

  • rebuilding local food production;
  • protecting agricultural land;
  • developing local water resilience;
  • encouraging repair and maintenance skills;
  • supporting local businesses;
  • strengthening community organisations;
  • creating local energy where practical;
  • reducing dependence upon long supply chains.

None of these requires waiting for government.

A different understanding of progress

The greatest value of Morgan’s work may be that it changes the question.

Instead of asking:

“How do we restart growth?”

we should perhaps be asking:

“How do we build good lives with less surplus energy?”

That is precisely the question localism seeks to answer.

The transition will not be easy. Many existing institutions were built during two centuries of expanding fossil-fuel energy and assume that growth will continue indefinitely.

But if Morgan is broadly correct, then localism is not an alternative to the future.

It is the future already beginning to emerge.

The sooner communities understand this, the more orderly, resilient and humane that transition can become.

370. Europe’s Gas Warning – Another Reminder to Build Local Resilience

Europe is once again discovering the weakness of depending on distant energy supplies. Gas storage levels are unusually low for this time of year, and analysts are warning that the continent could enter the coming winter with significantly less reserve than normal. Even though fighting in the Middle East has eased for the moment, the underlying problem has not gone away.

The immediate cause may be conflict affecting global gas markets, but the deeper issue is that Europe has become increasingly dependent on imported energy carried across oceans and through vulnerable international supply chains. Every geopolitical crisis now has the potential to raise prices and threaten supplies.

For Britain, this is another warning that energy security cannot simply mean finding another overseas supplier. It means reducing dependence on fuels that have to be imported from thousands of miles away. A localist approach looks instead to producing as much energy as possible within each locality – using solar power, wind, small-scale hydro where appropriate, biomass from sustainable woodland, and above all reducing demand through better building design and insulation.

No single local energy source will replace natural gas. However, a diverse collection of local resources can make communities far less vulnerable to international events. Every kilowatt-hour generated locally is one that does not have to be bought on volatile world markets.

The lesson is becoming increasingly clear. Whether the disruption comes from war, sanctions, financial instability or simple resource depletion, our highly centralised energy system is becoming more fragile. The answer is not merely to build bigger storage facilities or search for new imports. It is to rebuild resilience from the ground up, so that every locality is able to meet a greater share of its own essential energy needs.

Each new energy crisis reinforces the same message. Local resilience is no longer an environmental aspiration – it is becoming an economic and social necessity.

368. Batteries, Complexity and the Case for Localism

The transition to renewable electricity is often presented as a simple replacement of one source of energy with another. Replace coal and gas with wind turbines, solar panels and batteries, and little else changes. The reality is very different. Every additional layer of technology needed to compensate for the shortcomings of intermittent generation makes the electricity system more complex, more expensive and potentially more fragile.

A recent warning from government technical experts illustrates the problem. Britain is rapidly installing large-scale battery storage systems to help stabilise the electricity grid when wind and solar output fluctuates. These batteries can respond almost instantly, making them valuable tools for balancing supply and demand.

However, the experts have identified an unexpected danger.

When the National Energy System Operator (NESO) issues a Capacity Market Notice warning that electricity shortages are becoming likely, battery operators have a commercial incentive to ensure their batteries are fully charged. If many operators respond at the same time by drawing large amounts of electricity from the grid, they could actually create the shortage they are preparing to prevent.

In other words, the solution itself could become part of the problem.

Complexity Creates New Risks

This is a classic example of what happens when increasingly complicated systems attempt to solve problems created elsewhere in the same system.

For over a century Britain’s electricity supply relied on large power stations producing continuous, predictable electricity. Demand varied throughout the day, but generation could usually be adjusted in a controlled way.

Renewable electricity changes that relationship. Wind turbines produce electricity when the wind blows, not necessarily when consumers need it. Solar panels produce their maximum output at midday rather than during the evening peak.

To compensate, we now need:

  • enormous battery installations
  • sophisticated forecasting systems
  • automated trading algorithms
  • reserve generating capacity
  • expanded transmission networks
  • increasingly complex control systems.

Every additional component introduces another possible point of failure.

None of these technologies is necessarily unreliable on its own. The problem is that the overall system becomes so interconnected that small events can trigger much larger consequences.

The Cost of Chasing Stability

Large batteries are impressive engineering achievements, but they are not free.

Consumers ultimately pay not only for the batteries themselves, but also for:

  • construction
  • maintenance
  • replacement
  • grid upgrades
  • control systems
  • reserve generating capacity
  • market payments that keep backup systems available.

Much of this expenditure exists because renewable generation is intermittent. If electricity production were naturally predictable, many of these additional systems would not be required.

As the grid becomes more complicated, household electricity bills inevitably reflect that complexity.

Bigger Systems Need Bigger Solutions

National electricity networks have always been large engineering projects. But the increasing dependence on intermittent generation pushes centralisation even further.

The grid operator must monitor thousands of wind turbines, millions of rooftop solar panels, hundreds of battery installations and countless automated control systems.

Artificial intelligence, advanced forecasting and increasingly sophisticated computer control become essential simply to keep everything operating safely.

The irony is striking. Technologies often promoted as decentralised require unprecedented levels of central coordination.

What Localism Suggests

Localism approaches resilience from a different direction.

Rather than asking how to make one enormous national system increasingly sophisticated, Localism asks whether every community needs to depend so completely upon that single system.

Local electricity does not mean abandoning the national grid. Instead, communities could gradually develop complementary local energy systems that reduce dependence upon distant infrastructure.

These might include:

  • local solar generation
  • small-scale hydro where appropriate
  • biomass from local woodland management
  • combined heat and power schemes
  • carefully managed community battery storage
  • reduced overall electricity demand through efficient design.

The crucial difference is scale.

A community battery serving a village or neighbourhood is managed to meet local needs rather than participating in national electricity trading markets. Local users understand local demand patterns and can adapt their consumption accordingly.

If one local system develops problems, it affects hundreds or perhaps thousands of people rather than millions.

Resilience Rather Than Maximum Efficiency

Modern infrastructure has been designed to maximise efficiency.

Localism places greater emphasis on resilience.

An efficient system may perform extremely well under normal conditions but fail dramatically when unexpected events occur.

A resilient system may appear less efficient but continues operating when conditions become difficult.

Nature follows this principle. Healthy ecosystems contain redundancy, diversity and overlapping functions. If one species declines, others often compensate.

Highly centralised technological systems tend to eliminate redundancy because redundancy appears inefficient.

Unfortunately, redundancy is often what keeps systems functioning during crises.

Living Within Natural Limits

The battery warning is not really about batteries.

It is about the increasing complexity required to maintain an industrial energy system that is becoming harder to balance as high-quality fossil fuels become more expensive and renewable generation expands.

Each new technical solution creates further technical challenges.

More batteries require more control.

More control requires more computing.

More computing requires more infrastructure.

More infrastructure requires more investment.

The cycle continues.

Localism suggests a different path.

Rather than continually expanding technological complexity, communities can gradually reduce dependence on vulnerable national systems by producing more essentials locally – food, water, some energy, repair services and basic manufacturing.

This does not eliminate the national grid. It simply reduces the consequences when that grid comes under stress.

The future may belong not to the most technologically complicated societies, but to those that build the greatest resilience. True security comes not from ever more elaborate systems designed to prevent failure, but from communities that can continue functioning when those systems inevitably encounter their limits.

368. How oil has become a drain on other resources

How the pursuit of ‘energy dominance’ put the final nail in the coffin of electrification

The Honest Sorcerer

Drilling for oil, you might tempted to believe, will always pay for itself as it produces the fuels needed for its continued extraction. The more oil we lift, the more fuel (and energy) we have, right? Wrong. Let me explain. A barrel of oil would produce 5.9 Gigajoules of energy when fully burned, which might sound like a lot. Considering the fact, however, that only 27% of what we call ‘oil’ can be turned into diesel—the most vital fuel of all—on a global average¹, and that diesel engines burn fuel at an average 35% efficiency, only a tiny fraction of the energy stored in a barrel of oil can be used to drill more wells, mine minerals, harvest fish/wood/crops, build infrastructure, power militaries or to transport goods across large distances. That roughly 10% of energy derived from a barrel of crude is what keeps billions of people and a globalized world economy alive. The rest remains embedded in products (plastics, solvents, lubricants, asphalt, wax etc.) or simply get burned for our convenience in cars and jets. Unlike in the US it’s perfectly possible to live a decent life without a car or flying around with jets in many other parts of the world. The same could not be told about diesel, without which perpetuating modern, high-tech civilization would be impossible.

Trying to squeeze more diesel fuel out of a barrel of oil, on the other hand, would not only cannibalize the output of other fuels (mostly jet and fuel oil) but would also increase the energy cost of getting the raw power we need, thereby defeating the very idea of getting more useful energy out of a barrel of oil. Thus, when a study on Energy Return on Energy Invested (Delannoy et al., 2021) concluded that we use up a little more than 15% of energy stored in a barrel of oil to explore, drill, lift and deliver the next barrel of oil, they pointed out something profound. We need more energy to extract oil than what we could obtain by burning it in tractors, trailers, trucks and all kinds of heavy machinery to maintain civilization as it is. Again: no oil well was drilled using gasoline nor any mineral was extracted or fish caught with airliners—not in any meaningful quantity at least. What’s worse, as the authors found, the energy cost of oil is projected to reach 50% by 2050 as low cost conventional reserves continue to deplete, and get increasingly replaced by unconventional oil and energy intensive methods required to push what remains to the surface. That’s clearly not going to work on a global scale. But then how does the math work with even today’s numbers?

Simply put: we use the rest of the global energy system to subsidize liquid fuel production. Many wells and pumps are now running on electricity, and much of the energy used in refineries comes from natural gas. Sure, when taking all fuels together, producing oil is still net positive in energy terms but extracting petroleum long ceased to be a self-sustaining, self-perpetuating process. Half a century ago when the energy cost of oil was a mere 3% (or less), the 10% useful work derived from the diesel portion of a barrel was more than enough to power the oil business AND provide 7% “free” energy to the economy. Now its the other way around: we are using more and more electricity, natural gas, and in some cases even “renewables”, just to keep diesel flowing and the world economy ticking.

The electrification of transportation, ahem, isn’t going as fast as many of its advocates thought. Source: Ember Energy

‘Then why don’t we shift to other fuels or electrify transportation?’—the question poses itself. You see, batteries and hydrogen, the most often touted “alternatives” to oil, are a way of storing energy at a loss, and not a source of energy. Thus, in order to replace oil we would not only need to dig up all the raw materials required to build these technologies—by using diesel fuel, what else?—but we would also need to multiply the electric grid’s capacity in order to cater for battery charging and hydrogen production demands. Even when considering engine inefficiencies, and calculating with the net energy portion of diesel, jet fuel and gasoline only² we would still need to produce at least 395 kilowatt-hours of power for each barrel of oil replaced. For the 103 million barrels humans burned every single day in 2025—that energy amounts to 40.7 Terawatt hours per day, or 14,850 TWh for an entire year… And we haven’t even taken electric engine and AC/DC conversion losses (10%) or battery recharge cycle inefficiencies (another 10%) into account—let alone the enormous energy cost of generating hydrogen… Not to speak of transmission losses over the grid which could be as high as 60% in the case of America or 40-50% everywhere else. All in all, as this back of an envelope calculation shows, we would need to generate around 36,600 TWhs of electricity on top of the existing 32,600 TWhs produced annually—just to electrify every machine which currently burns oil products globally. And then we haven’t even mentioned electrifying the industry which would take a similar amount of electricity. Triple that grid Mr. President, please.

In order to achieve our current grid expansion goals (which are far-far lower than we calculated above) the US alone would need to install 5,000 miles of new high-voltage lines annually, yet actual additions have collapsed from nearly 4,000 miles in 2013 to a historic low average of just 392 miles between 2022 and 2025. During the same time period China has doubled it’s electricity generation and now consumes nearly 33% of all electric power generated globally, while America’s share has fallen below 15%. Yet, expanding the grid and generation capacity is not even the biggest concern here, no matter how insurmountable a challenge it might seem in the West. It’s not even battery manufacturing capacity, much of which was going into electric vehicles already, and has surpassed 1.5 Terawatts of storage created annually. It’s the global scale of the change, combined with the rapid depletion of resources needed to make the shift, that will eventually put the energy transition into death.

“I have to finish this sweater before I run out of yarn!”

As a 2024 (but now removed) study by Rystad found: we have no more than a couple of years before we max out global oil supply, facing a long decline afterwards. And while green energy fans might rejoice, while envisioning a smooth ride into an electrified utopia, they have to be reminded that we are still mining (and thereby destroying) the planet with diesel fuel. And without mining, there is no aluminum, nickel, copper etc. needed to build batteries and to expand the electric grid with. Nor food… Or long distance transportation… Let alone construction. The coming peak in supply is not a matter of investment decisions either: we are no longer able to replace those oil reserves we have used up³ and now have to live off of our legacy fields—much of which have already passed their production peak. Making matters worse while these older larger fields deplete slowly at first, their depletion rate accelerates with time. (These results were later confirmed by the IEA as well.) The oil economy faces a double whammy from worsening energy returns on investment on one side, and an absolute depletion on the other; leading to a precipitous fall in net value delivered to society.

That, my friends, is a mighty big peak in global oil production. Source: IEA

And it’s not just oil, but copper as well. Independent from what happens to oil, or whether we manage to electrify mining or not, the world is rapidly approaching an inflection point where mined copper supply begins to fall—irrespective of demand or investment decisions. So, even as global mined copper output reached a record 22.8 million tons in 2024, the IEA expects global supply to peak later this decade (at around 24 million tons) before falling noticeably to less than 19 million tons by 2035, as ore grades decline, reserves become depleted and mines are retired. Despite the potential contribution from African copper, new greenfield supply will struggle to make up the difference, as it takes 17 years on average till a mine starts production from discovery, and as new mines cost more and more to open. Simply put, we have run out of time, capital, reserves and energy to prevent a massive shortfall in copper production by 2030.

On the demand side, at the same time, achieving net-zero carbon emissions by 2050 would require a whopping 460% increase in copper production, which would necessitate the opening of 194 new large-scale mines over the next 32 years; tapping into imaginary reserves which are simply nowhere to be found. I think it’s not a terribly risky bet to say: it probably ain’t gonna happen… What you see here is what your ‘grandma running out of yarn before she finishes’ means in real life.

365. The Economy Follows Energy, Not Government

Much political debate assumes that governments determine the future of the economy.

They do not. Governments influence many aspects of society, but they do not control the underlying direction of economic development.

That direction is determined principally by the availability of surplus energy.

Every economy is an energy system before it is a financial system. Without energy there is no transport, manufacturing, agriculture, communications or construction. More importantly, it is not simply the amount of energy that matters, but the surplus energy available after the energy sector has met its own needs.

When surplus energy is abundant, economies expand. Industries become more specialised. Trade grows over longer distances. Cities increase in size. Public services expand. Governments collect more tax revenue and can afford larger programmes.

When surplus energy begins to decline, the reverse process gradually takes place. Economic growth slows. Discretionary spending falls. Governments experience increasing financial pressure. Businesses consolidate or disappear. Production becomes more local because long and complex supply chains become increasingly difficult to sustain economically.

This is not primarily the result of government policy. It is the natural evolution of an economy responding to its energy base.

Governments certainly matter, but they operate within limits imposed by the physical economy. They can influence the detail without changing the overall direction.

For example, governments can influence:

  • taxation;
  • public spending;
  • regulation;
  • education;
  • planning policy;
  • land ownership;
  • housing policy;
  • the distribution of wealth;
  • the legal rights of citizens.

These decisions affect how fairly society functions and who benefits from the available resources. They influence the quality of life, but they do not determine the overall size of the economy.

The size of the economy is determined by the quantity of surplus energy available to support productive activity.

This distinction is fundamental.

The structure of the economy evolves naturally in response to changing energy availability.

The details of how society operates are influenced by successive governments.

Confusing these two levels of change leads to unrealistic expectations. Elections cannot restore economic conditions that were made possible only by abundant, inexpensive surplus energy. Likewise, no government can legislate sustained growth if the underlying energy surplus is shrinking.

This helps explain why governments of different political parties often struggle with the same economic problems. Each administration introduces new policies, yet the broad direction remains remarkably similar because all are operating within the same energy constraints.

As surplus energy declines, the United Kingdom is experiencing a gradual transition towards a smaller, less complex economy. This should not be confused with a temporary recession. It represents a long-term structural adjustment driven by physical realities rather than political ideology.

The important political questions therefore become different.

Instead of asking how governments can restore perpetual economic growth, we should ask:

  • How should land ownership be organised?
  • How can essential services be protected?
  • How can greater equality between citizens be maintained?
  • How can communities become more resilient?
  • How should power be distributed between central government and localities?

These are questions that governments can influence.

They cannot, however, determine the overall size of the economy. That is ultimately governed by the amount of surplus energy available to society.

Understanding this distinction changes the entire debate about Britain’s future. The evolution of the economy is largely determined by energy. Politics determines how society adapts to that evolution.

362. The Missing Debate: Has the Industrial Economy Reached Its Limits?

Comparing economist Robert Peston’s view of the economy with the localist view

Robert Peston is not an economic pessimist in the sense of predicting imminent collapse, but he has been consistently concerned that the UK has deep-seated structural economic weaknesses that politicians have failed to address.

His views can be summarised like this:

  • Low economic growth
    • He argues that Britain’s biggest problem is persistently weak productivity.
    • Without higher productivity, wages, tax revenues and living standards cannot rise significantly.
    • He frequently says governments of all parties have promised growth without tackling its underlying causes.
  • High government debt
    • Peston believes the UK’s public finances are under severe long-term pressure.
    • He points to:
      • an ageing population,
      • rising NHS and social care costs,
      • defence spending,
      • climate transition costs.
    • He argues that future governments will probably face difficult choices involving higher taxes, lower spending, or more borrowing.
  • Living standards
    • One of his recurring themes is that many people feel poorer even when GDP is growing.
    • He has highlighted that real wages have grown very slowly since the 2008 financial crisis.
    • In his view, this explains much of the political frustration seen across the UK.
  • Investment
    • He believes Britain invests too little in:
      • infrastructure,
      • research,
      • skills,
      • training,
      • technology.
    • He argues these are essential if productivity is to improve.
  • Brexit
    • Peston has repeatedly argued that Brexit has reduced trade with Europe and made the economy less productive.
    • While he does not blame every economic problem on Brexit, he regards it as an additional drag on growth.
  • The Bank of England
    • He generally supports the Bank’s independence.
    • However, he has criticised occasions when monetary policy or communication has been unclear, especially during periods of high inflation.

Peston does not usually claim that:

  • the UK economy is about to collapse;
  • capitalism is ending;
  • Britain is running out of physical resources or energy.

Instead, his analysis is that Britain faces long-term stagnation unless productivity and investment improve.

Peston’s view Compared with the localist view

Localism is more radical.

Robert Pestonlocalism
Weak productivityEnd of economic growth
More investment can restore growthGrowth itself is ending
Structural reforms are neededSociety must adapt to a post-growth economy
Concerned about debtConcerned about declining surplus energy and shrinking economies
Expects national institutions to continueExpects increasing importance of local communities

The key difference is diagnosis:

  • Peston: Britain’s problems are mainly economic and political, and could be improved through better policy.
  • Localism view: The problems are rooted in natural limits to growth—particularly energy, resources and economic contraction—so localism is an adaptation of what is occurring naturally and not a matter for government policy choice.

So, Peston identifies many of the same symptoms that concern localism (weak growth, stagnant incomes, strained public finances), but he attributes them to policy and productivity, whereas localism analysis sees them as natural consequences of how the economy works.

Neither Peston nor other classical economists say that the industrial economy has ended thia seems to be the bigger difference beween them and localism

I think we have identified a fundamental difference in the starting assumptions rather than just a disagreement about policy.

Most mainstream economists, including Robert Peston, generally assume that the industrial economy is still the dominant system and will continue, although it may need reform. Their questions are usually:

  • How can productivity be increased?
  • How can investment be encouraged?
  • How can innovation, technology and skills raise output?
  • How can governments manage debt and taxation?

The possibility that the industrial economy is entering a terminal phase is usually outside their framework.

The localist perspective starts from a different premise:

The industrial economy was built naturally on abundant, cheap energy, expanding material consumption and increasingly complex global supply chains. If those foundations weaken, the issue is not how to restore growth but how society reorganises itself after growth.

From this viewpoint, many of the problems identified by economists – stagnant wages, falling productivity growth, unaffordable housing, public debt, pressure on services – are not isolated policy failures but symptoms of a system reaching its limits.

The difference can be expressed like this:

Mainstream economicsLocalism / post-growth analysis
Growth is the solutionGrowth will no longer be possible
Productivity can keep rising through technologyTechnology itself depends on industrial supply chains and energy
More investment creates expansionInvestment may increasingly maintain existing systems rather than expand them
Globalisation increases efficiencyGlobalisation creates vulnerability
National governments remain the main actorsLocal communities naturally become more important
Economic decline is a temporary problemDecline is a long-term evolution from fossil fuel based industrial and consumerist growth to food based local economies.

The concept that bridges these views is surplus energy. Economists traditionally focus on money, capital, labour and productivity.

Analysts such as Tim Morgan argue that the economy is fundamentally a system for converting energy into useful work, and that declining energy returns constrain economic possibilities.

Where localism differs is that it treats this not merely as an economic adjustment but as a social transformation. The question becomes:

If the industrial economy cannot continue expanding, what replaces it?

The localist answer which evolves naturally will be:

  • shorter supply chains,
  • greater local food production,
  • community ownership,
  • repair and reuse rather than replacement,
  • local energy systems,
  • mutual support networks,
  • reduced dependence on distant complex systems.

This is not simply a forecast of industrial based economic decline, it is a different model of adaptation. Mainstream economics asks: “How do we restart growth?” Localism replies: “We are creating a new kind of society in which economic growth is no longer the organising principle?”

That distinction is probably the central argument you have been building in Chatting about Localism: that localism is not an ideological preference, but a practical response to the end of the industrial growth era.

349. Giant Solar Farms and the Death of Local Decision-Making

The Government’s decision to approve the One Earth Solar Farm in Nottinghamshire and Lincolnshire is another reminder that Britain’s planning system has become increasingly centralised. It is not simply about renewable energy. It is about who has the right to decide how land is used.

In this case, the Government’s own planning inspector recommended that permission should not be granted. The inspector had considered the evidence, weighed the arguments and concluded that the proposal should be refused. Yet the Energy Secretary, Ed Miliband, simply overruled that recommendation.

This illustrates one of the greatest weaknesses of Britain’s highly centralised system of government. Local people, local authorities and independent inspectors can spend years examining a proposal, only to have their conclusions swept aside by a minister in Whitehall.

That is not local democracy. It is central command.

The One Earth Solar Farm will cover thousands of acres of productive agricultural land. At a time when Britain imports a growing proportion of its food, replacing fertile farmland with industrial-scale energy developments raises serious questions about national resilience.

Many of these low-lying areas have also experienced flooding. Large solar arrays alter the way land is managed. Maintenance tracks, fencing, drainage works and extensive ground disturbance can affect the movement of water across the landscape. Whatever mitigation measures are proposed, flooding risks should always be considered carefully before approving developments of this scale.

Local communities understand these landscapes far better than distant departments in London. They know where water collects, which fields remain wet throughout the winter and how changing land management affects neighbouring properties.

This is precisely why decisions should be made as close as possible to the people who live with the consequences.

Localism does not mean opposing renewable energy. It means asking whether electricity generation should become another function returned to the locality rather than imposed from above.

Instead of a handful of enormous solar installations owned by large corporations, localism points towards many smaller schemes owned by communities, farms, cooperatives and local businesses. Electricity generated close to where it is used reduces transmission losses, spreads risk and allows income to remain within the local economy.

Large developments also make communities increasingly dependent upon national infrastructure and national political decisions. Smaller locally owned systems build resilience because they can evolve with local needs and local resources.

The approval of the One Earth Solar Farm therefore represents more than another planning decision. It demonstrates how Britain’s planning system has drifted away from local accountability.

When ministers can overrule their own inspectors, local consultation becomes little more than a procedural exercise. The message is clear: decisions are made in Whitehall, not in the communities that must live with them.

If Britain is serious about creating a resilient future, we need more than renewable energy. We need a planning system that trusts local people, protects productive farmland, respects local knowledge of flood risk and allows communities to shape their own future.

That is what localism is about.

337, The Energy Denial: “Everything Runs Itself”

A deeper layer of denial sits underneath climate change itself, and it is rarely acknowledged directly: the denial that energy is what makes modern life possible at all.

Most people do not think in terms of energy. They think in terms of systems that simply “work”:

  • food appears in supermarkets
  • heating comes from a thermostat
  • transport arrives on demand
  • goods are always available
  • electricity is assumed to be permanent and invisible

This creates a powerful illusion: that society is self-running, almost natural. In this mindset, energy is not seen as the foundation of everything, but as just another utility, endlessly available and adjustable.

In reality, every part of modern life depends on continuous, high-density energy flows. Food is not just grown, but fertilised, irrigated, harvested, processed, refrigerated, transported, and retailed. Housing is not just built, but heated, lit, repaired, insured, and maintained through vast supply chains. Even information systems depend on large-scale electricity networks, data centres, and global logistics.

Yet this dependence is rarely felt directly, so it is mentally excluded. This is the second denial: not only is climate change softened into something “somewhere else in nature”, but energy itself is erased from the mental model of everyday life.


Climate Change Meets Energy Denial

When Climate change begins to affect crops, water, and infrastructure, it is not experienced as an energy problem. It is experienced as “weather”, “prices”, or “supply issues”.

The connection is broken in perception.

But in physical reality, climate disruption is fundamentally an energy disruption. Heat stress reduces agricultural output. Drought reduces hydroelectric generation and irrigation. Extreme weather damages transport and distribution systems. All of this feeds back into higher energy use required to repair, cool, and stabilise systems that are already under strain.

The article on overheated food prices highlights exactly this chain: rising temperatures do not stay in the atmosphere. They move through land, labour, logistics, and finally into household cost.

Yet most responses remain fragmented:

  • food inflation is treated as monetary or political
  • energy prices are treated as market cycles
  • heat waves are treated as temporary anomalies

The unified energy system behind all of them is rarely acknowledged.


Heat Waves and the Collapse of the “Normal Future”

Heat waves are important because they briefly make energy visible.

During extreme heat:

  • cooling systems strain electrical grids
  • transport slows or fails
  • productivity drops sharply
  • water demand rises
  • infrastructure becomes fragile

In other words, society is forced to spend more energy just to maintain normality.

But once the heat wave passes, the system appears to reset. This reinforces denial in two ways:

  1. It feels like recovery, not escalation
  2. It restores the illusion that stability is the default state

So even as heat waves become more frequent, they are often processed as separate incidents rather than as evidence of a rising baseline energy load on the system.


The Deeper Psychological Pattern

This links back to a broader structure of denial:

  • Climate change is softened into “weather variation”
  • Energy is softened into “services”
  • System dependence is softened into “normal life”

All three work together to preserve a central belief: that the future will broadly resemble the present, with manageable adjustments.

Accepting the opposite would be more disruptive than most people are prepared for. It would require acknowledging that:

  • stability is energy-intensive
  • energy itself is increasingly constrained and stressed
  • climate change is not external to the system, but embedded in it

So the mind does what it has always done under strain: it compartmentalises.


Conclusion: The Invisible Foundation

The real denial is not simply about climate change. It is about the refusal to see that modern civilisation is an energy-dependent structure operating at the edge of environmental stability.

Heat waves do not just test comfort. They briefly expose the cost of maintaining normal life at all.

And when they pass, the illusion returns.

That cycle – disruption, then forgetting – is what allows both climate change and energy dependence to remain widely acknowledged, yet only partially believed in their consequences.

309. The Cost of Distance – What Wind Constraint Payments Tell Us About Localism

One of the less publicised features of Britain’s electricity system is that wind farms are often paid not to generate electricity.

This may seem extraordinary. The country is investing billions of pounds in renewable energy, yet at times electricity producers are instructed to switch off turbines even when the wind is blowing strongly. The reason is simple. The electricity cannot always be transported to where it is needed.

Most of Britain’s largest wind farms are located in Scotland and offshore in northern waters. Much of the demand for electricity, however, is in England. The national grid must therefore move huge quantities of electricity over long distances. When transmission lines reach their limits, the system operator has little choice but to reduce generation.

The result is a curious situation. Wind farm operators receive payments to stop producing electricity, while gas-fired power stations elsewhere may be paid to generate more power to meet local demand. Consumers ultimately bear the cost through their electricity bills.

This problem highlights a weakness in highly centralised systems. The further production is separated from consumption, the greater the infrastructure required to connect them. Large transmission networks are expensive to build, expensive to maintain, and increasingly difficult to expand.

From a localist perspective, the lesson is clear. Whenever possible, production and consumption should be brought closer together. Electricity generated near where it is used requires less infrastructure, suffers fewer transmission losses, and reduces dependence on large national networks.

This does not mean abandoning the national grid. Large-scale infrastructure will always have a role in providing resilience and balancing supply across the country. However, the present situation suggests that excessive dependence on distant generation creates costs that are often overlooked.

As the economy evolves away from the assumptions of perpetual growth, questions of affordability become increasingly important. Building ever more transmission capacity to carry electricity over hundreds of miles may prove difficult to justify in a society facing financial constraints.

A localist alternative would encourage greater use of local generation, local storage, and local consumption. Electricity generated within a locality could be used within that locality wherever practical. The national grid would remain as a strategic backbone, but not as the sole means of connecting every producer to every consumer.

The payments made to wind farms not to generate electricity are therefore more than an accounting curiosity. They are a reminder that distance carries a cost. In an age where affordability is becoming as important as efficiency, bringing production closer to consumption may increasingly become not merely desirable, but necessary.

301. The Grid Bottleneck – A Hidden Challenge for Britain’s Solar Farms

Much attention has been given to the rapid growth of solar farms across Britain. Vast areas of land are being proposed for solar development, with the expectation that they will provide clean electricity for decades to come. However, a less visible problem is emerging. In many cases, the electricity network itself is struggling to cope.

Large solar farms do not simply feed electricity directly into nearby homes. The power must first be converted, stepped up to higher voltages and then connected to the National Grid through substations and transmission lines. In many parts of the country, the necessary capacity is not available.

As a result, some solar projects are being delayed for years while waiting for a grid connection. Developers have reported being offered connection dates extending well into the 2030s. Others have had to scale back their plans, while some projects have been abandoned altogether because the cost and delay of obtaining a connection made them uneconomic.

This problem has become so significant that the electricity system operator has had to reform the entire connection process. The queue of projects seeking access to the grid had grown far beyond what the existing infrastructure could accommodate.

The underlying issue is that Britain’s electricity network was designed around a relatively small number of large power stations. Today’s energy strategy is based on thousands of dispersed generators, including solar farms, wind farms and battery installations. The transmission system is now having to catch up.

The consequence is that the true cost of large-scale renewable energy is not simply the cost of the panels or turbines. It also includes the substations, pylons, cables and other infrastructure needed to transport the electricity from where it is generated to where it is consumed.

There is also the question of affordability. Britain is carrying historically high levels of public debt, while households, businesses and local authorities are already under financial pressure. Building thousands of miles of new transmission lines, substations and grid connections will require very large investments. Ultimately, these costs must be met by taxpayers, electricity consumers or both.

This raises a difficult question. When it is recognised that the economy is shrinking, not growing, will society be able to afford the scale of investment required,

299. How was electricity generated in the early days?

In the early days, electricity was generated mainly by simple mechanical methods that turned dynamos or generators. The principle was discovered in the 1830s by Michael Faraday, who showed that moving a magnet near a coil of wire could produce an electric current.

The earliest electricity supplies were very local. A factory, mill, large house, or street lighting scheme would often have its own generator.

Here are the main early methods:

  1. Steam engines

By the late 1800s, most electricity was produced by steam engines. Coal was burned to boil water into steam, and the steam drove a piston engine or later a steam turbine connected to a dynamo.

Typical uses:

  • Street lighting
  • Tramways
  • Factories
  • Wealthy homes
  • Public buildings

Early power stations were small and local because electricity could not easily be transmitted long distances.

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  1. Water power

Some early electricity generation used water wheels or water turbines, especially in rural areas and mountainous districts. Existing mill streams were adapted to drive generators.

This was one of the first forms of hydroelectricity.

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7

  1. Gas engines

Before large national systems existed, some towns and businesses used gas engines fuelled by “town gas” made from coal. These engines drove small generators.

  1. Wind and small local systems

A few isolated farms and estates used small wind generators or private battery systems, especially before rural electrification.

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4

  1. Direct current (DC)

The first systems usually used direct current, associated with Thomas Edison. DC worked for nearby lighting but could not travel far efficiently.

Later, alternating current (AC), promoted by Nikola Tesla and George Westinghouse, allowed electricity to be transmitted over much greater distances. That led eventually to large national grids.

In Britain, one of the earliest public power stations was the Holborn Viaduct power station in London in the 1880s. At first, electricity was mainly for lighting rather than for the huge range of appliances we use today.

The interesting point is that early electricity was often highly localised. Many places generated only what they immediately needed. The later national grid system came after engineers learned how to interconnect many power stations and transmit electricity over long distances.

298. The National Grid and the Return to Local Electricity

For many years Britain has assumed that the future of electricity would simply involve “more of the same” – more power stations, more cables, more electric vehicles, more heat pumps and more dependence upon a huge National Grid carrying electricity across the entire country.

But there is growing evidence that this assumption may be impossible.

The National Grid was developed during the age of industrial growth when energy was abundant, industry was expanding and the economy was becoming larger every decade. The entire system was designed around centralisation. Huge power stations generated electricity in one place and transmitted it over long distances to passive consumers.

The new vision is entirely different. Millions of houses are expected to charge electric cars, run heat pumps, install batteries and sometimes even feed electricity back into the system. Instead of a relatively stable flow of electricity from large generators, the Grid is expected to cope with countless small and fluctuating inputs and demands.

At the same time Britain is attempting to close older reliable generation systems while becoming increasingly dependent upon intermittent wind and solar generation. Electricity may be plentiful one day and scarce the next. The balancing of the system becomes extraordinarily difficult.

The problem is not simply generation. It is transmission.

Electricity grids are physical systems with limits. Substations, transformers and cables can only carry a certain load. Much of Britain’s electricity infrastructure was never designed for simultaneous vehicle charging, electric heating and battery storage on a national scale.

Upgrading the entire system would require enormous quantities of money, raw materials, engineering labour and time. In a shrinking economy these become increasingly difficult to obtain.

The contradiction is obvious. Britain is attempting to build an electricity-intensive society precisely at the moment when economic surplus is beginning to contract.

Even if the technology works technically, the affordability becomes doubtful. Households already struggle with energy bills. Councils are close to insolvency. Government debt rises continuously. Large infrastructure schemes become more expensive every year.

There is also a deeper structural problem. Centralised systems become fragile when complexity increases beyond a certain point. A fault in one area can cascade across the entire system. The larger and more interconnected the network becomes, the more vulnerable it may become to instability, cyber attack, equipment shortages or financial failure.

This may eventually force a historic reversal.

Instead of ever greater national integration, electricity generation may increasingly become local.

Localities may begin generating much of their own electricity through combinations of small-scale solar, micro-hydro, local wind generation, biomass, methane digestion and small community battery systems. Essential activities could then be organised around the actual electricity available locally rather than around the assumption of unlimited supply.

A localist electricity system would not attempt to maintain the present consumer society in its current form. That may no longer be possible. Instead it would concentrate upon resilience and essential needs.

Food production, water pumping, refrigeration, workshops, local transport and basic communications might become the priorities. Electricity-intensive discretionary activities may gradually decline because the energy surplus to sustain them no longer exists.

Large national systems may still survive for essential strategic purposes, railways, hospitals, heavy industry and national communications. But the assumption that every locality can indefinitely depend upon an endlessly expanding national electricity network may prove unrealistic.

In many ways the future may resemble the past more than the present.

Before national grids existed, localities often generated power locally through water mills, small gas works and local electricity plants. The future may involve a more technologically advanced version of the same principle.

The great irony is that the modern drive toward electrification may ultimately undermine the very centralised grid system upon which it depends.

291. Battery Britain, the Shrinking Economy, and the Question of Affordability

The Telegraph article on batteries helping Britain “beat the surge in energy bills” describes a rapidly expanding world of domestic storage systems, smart tariffs, and household-scale electricity management, where batteries are charged when power is cheap and discharged when prices spike, smoothing out the cost of living pressures linked to volatile energy markets.

On the surface this looks like a sensible technological response to high electricity prices. Batteries, especially when paired with solar panels or smart tariffs, can reduce bills significantly by shifting consumption away from peak pricing and into low-cost periods. But in a shrinking economy, the deeper question is not whether the technology works, but whether society can afford the continual renewal of it.

Every battery, inverter, heat pump, photovoltaic panel, control system and power electronic device has a finite life. Typically around 10 to 15 years for many components, sometimes less for heavily used systems. That means a permanent cycle of replacement, recycling, upgrading and reinstallation. Even if unit costs fall, the economy must still sustain continuous capital renewal across millions of households, transport systems, and industrial users.

In a growth economy this is assumed to be manageable because rising output absorbs replacement costs. In a shrinking economy the assumption breaks down. Income growth slows or reverses, discretionary spending falls, and both households and institutions become increasingly sensitive to upfront capital costs. A technology that reduces running costs but requires high initial investment can become structurally unaffordable for large parts of the population.

This is where the tension becomes clear. Battery systems may reduce exposure to high electricity prices, but they do not remove the need to pay for the infrastructure itself. A household battery system still requires purchase, installation, maintenance, eventual replacement, and the supporting grid and control systems behind it. Even optimistic estimates suggest multi-thousand-pound costs and lifetimes of a decade or so, meaning repeated investment over time.

If the economy is no longer expanding in real terms, the question becomes: who finances this continual turnover? Government subsidy? Private borrowing? Higher electricity tariffs to fund grid stability? Or selective adoption by wealthier households only?

This is not just a domestic issue. It extends across transport and national infrastructure. Electric trains, trams, and electric vehicles all depend on large-scale electricity supply, much of it increasingly expected to be intermittent renewable generation buffered by storage. Batteries can smooth demand peaks, and grid-scale storage is expanding rapidly, but the system still depends on massive capital investment in generation, storage, transmission, and replacement cycles.

The logical conclusion often presented is decentralisation: local generation and local storage. Solar photovoltaics on buildings, community-scale batteries, heat pumps, and local energy balancing. But this raises another difficulty. Local systems may reduce dependence on national grids, but they do not reduce the total capital burden. They simply redistribute it. Every locality would still need to finance its own generation assets, storage systems, maintenance expertise, and eventual replacement cycles.

So the question becomes sharper: can localist communities realistically fund full energy self-reliance under conditions of economic contraction? And if they cannot, what level of external support or cross-subsidy would still be required?

Electricity from photovoltaics and heat pumps is often presented as “free after installation”, but in practice it is capital-intensive infrastructure spread over time. In a shrinking economy, capital-intensive systems become harder to sustain precisely because future surplus income is smaller.

This leads to a more uncomfortable possibility. Rather than a smooth transition to decentralised clean energy, society may face a selective transition. Wealthier households and well-capitalised institutions adopt batteries, heat pumps, and electric mobility. Others remain dependent on older, more centralised systems, or face rising inequality in access to energy resilience.

The deeper issue is not whether batteries or renewables work. They do. The issue is whether a society with tightening financial capacity can continuously renew a highly engineered energy system at scale, across every household, vehicle, and transport network, without a growing burden of cost and complexity.

In that sense, the energy question is not only technological. It is economic. And in a shrinking economy, the central constraint may turn out not to be innovation, but affordability over time.

285. From Quantity to Quality – How Declining Surplus Energy Leads Towards Localism

The industrial and consumerist era was built upon one overriding condition – abundant surplus energy.

Coal, oil and gas provided such vast quantities of concentrated energy that societies could undertake a wide range of activities far beyond simple survival.

Once food, shelter, transport and basic industry had been secured, enormous additional sectors could emerge. Tourism, advertising, financial services, mass commuting, global retailing, endless entertainment, international supply chains, consumer electronics, consultancy industries, luxury goods and countless other discretionary activities all became possible because the energy surplus was so large.

This surplus energy shaped not only the economy but also the psychology of modern civilisation.

Industrial society increasingly came to believe that human progress consisted of quantitative expansion.

  • More production meant success.
  • More consumption meant prosperity.
  • More movement meant development.
  • More choice meant freedom.
  • More wealth meant happiness.

And because industrial civilisation was fundamentally expansionary, it increasingly measured itself in numerical terms. Growth required measurement. Expanding systems could only be coordinated through statistics, accounts, targets and calculations.

Thus, modern society became a gigantic measuring machine.

  • Governments measure GDP growth.
  • Businesses measured productivity.
  • Banks measured financial returns.
  • Transport planners measured traffic flows.
  • Retailers measured sales volumes.
  • Schools measured test scores.
  • Hospitals measured targets.
  • Individuals measured income, house values, pensions and possessions.

The modern world increasingly trusts numbers more than lived experience.

At the centre of this system stood Gross Domestic Product, or GDP. GDP measures the total monetary value of goods and services produced within a country during a given period. If more money flows through the economy, GDP rises. If less money flows, GDP falls.

But GDP does not really measure well-being.

It measures activity.

Indeed, many activities which increase GDP may actually reduce human happiness and social stability.

  • If families stop caring for elderly relatives and instead pay for commercial care, providers.
  • If people stop repairing possessions and constantly replace them, GDP rises.
  • If communities become fragmented and individuals purchase more services separately, GDP rises.
  • If stress, anxiety and overwork generate larger pharmaceutical industries, counselling industries and entertainment industries, GDP rises.

The industrial system, therefore, rewarded quantity over quality.

The assumption was that if measurable activity increased continuously, society itself must be improving.

But this increasingly produced a strange contradiction.

Material quantity expanded enormously while unhappiness, anxiety, loneliness and social fragmentation often expanded alongside it.

  • People possessed more goods yet frequently felt less secure.
  • Consumer choice expanded while communities weakened.
  • Economic growth increased while trust declined.

The industrial era became extraordinarily successful at producing quantity but much less successful at producing contentment.

This occurred because industrial consumerism encouraged perpetual dissatisfaction. Economies dependent on continuous consumption require people to never feel they have enough. Advertising, fashion, status competition and planned obsolescence all depended upon maintaining permanent dissatisfaction.

A happy, contented and materially sufficient population is economically problematic for a growth-based system because contented people consume less.

Thus, industrial civilisation subtly encouraged endless striving rather than sufficiency.

But this entire system depended upon abundant surplus energy.

The critical issue is not simply the price of energy, but the rising cost of obtaining it.

In the early industrial period, huge quantities of surplus energy could be extracted relatively easily. A small amount of energy invested in oil extraction yielded enormous returns. The surplus remaining after extraction powered the rest of civilisation.

But over time, the easiest resources are depleted first. Oil fields become harder to exploit. Minerals require more processing. Infrastructure becomes more complex. More energy must be invested simply to maintain the energy system itself.

As a result, the net surplus energy available to society gradually declines.

Industrial civilisation can mask this process for some time through debt, financial expansion and technological efficiencies. But eventually the effects spread throughout the economy.

And they appear first in discretionary activities.

This is crucial because a large proportion of modern economic activity is discretionary rather than essential. A vast number of jobs and industries exist only because abundant surplus energy once allowed them to emerge.

As surplus energy declines, societies naturally begin reducing these discretionary activities.

  • People eat out less.
  • They travel less.
  • They postpone purchases.
  • They repair rather than replace.
  • They reduce luxury spending.
  • Businesses contract.
  • Hospitality weakens.
  • Retail declines.
  • Large office sectors shrink.
  • Long-distance commuting becomes less attractive.

Some estimates suggest that perhaps nearly half of modern economic activity may ultimately prove to be discretionary – dependent not upon necessity, but upon temporary conditions of high surplus energy.

As these sectors weaken, formal employment also weakens.

This is not merely a temporary recession. It is part of an evolutionary adjustment.

Industrial society required millions of specialised formal jobs because large-scale systems required central coordination. But as discretionary sectors decline, increasing numbers of people have to move towards informal, practical and localised forms of activity.

  • Some grow food.
  • Some repair equipment.
  • Some provide local services.
  • Some care informally for others.
  • Some combine several small activities together.
  • The formal industrial labour market slowly fragments.

Governments often interpret this as economic failure because they continue to view society through industrial metrics such as GDP, tax receipts, and employment statistics.

But underneath the measurements, another process may be occurring.

People begin adapting individually to a world with less surplus energy.

And this adaptation naturally encourages localism.

The important point is that localism is not primarily an ideology imposed politically from above. It is an evolutionary response to changing material conditions.

As large systems become more expensive, fragile and impersonal, individuals increasingly turn towards what feels immediate, practical and dependable.

  • They rediscover locality.
  • They value nearby food production.
  • They reduce dependency upon long supply chains.
  • They rely more upon personal relationships.
  • They seek practical security rather than abstract financial growth.

And most importantly, the emphasis slowly shifts from quantity towards quality.

This is the profound civilisational change taking place underneath the economic statistics.

Industrial civilisation assumed that more quantity created more happiness.

Localism will discover that quality creates happiness.

A locality with fewer possessions but stronger trust may feel happier than an affluent but fragmented suburb.

  • A slower life with secure relationships may produce greater well-being than a high-income life dominated by stress and commuting.
  • Repairing and maintaining valued possessions may create greater satisfaction than endless replacement.
  • Knowing neighbours may matter more than access to vast anonymous systems.
  • Fresh local food may provide more contentment than unlimited supermarket choice.
  • Security, familiarity and usefulness begin replacing accumulation as measures of success.
  • Importantly, many of these improvements barely register in industrial statistics.
  • A neighbour helping another neighbour creates little GDP.
  • Home-grown vegetables barely appear economically.
  • Shared tools reduce measurable consumption.
  • Repairing old equipment lowers retail sales.
  • Informal care reduces service-sector activity.

From the viewpoint of industrial economics, these may appear negative because the measurable quantity of transactions declines.

Yet qualitatively, life may improve.

This is why the transition towards localism is so difficult for industrial institutions to recognise. Governments and economists continue to observe declines in measurable indicators while often failing to recognise the emergence of qualitative resilience beneath the surface.

Indeed, localism may initially appear economically poorer but ultimately become socially richer.

  • GDP may decline while trust increases.
  • Retail spending may fall while practical competence grows.
  • Formal employment may weaken while informal usefulness expands.
  • Consumer choice may narrow while life satisfaction improves.

The industrial era measured society because it believed reality could be understood numerically.

The emerging localist era may increasingly understand reality through lived experience.

People may gradually judge society less by how much it possesses and more by how well it lives.

And the driving force behind this transition is not primarily political theory, but the decline of surplus energy available to support the enormous quantitative complexity of industrial consumer civilisation. As quantity becomes harder to sustain, society naturally discovers quality