The Charybdis is a swirling water feature in the temperate house at Savill Garden. It was designed by Giles Rayner in 2006. https://funandgames.org/web/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/The-Charybdis_Savill-Gardens_9257-2-scaled.jpg

This is a quote attributed to Lenin (courtsey of Branko Milanovic’s X account, where a gentle exchange about whether it was genuine ensued), which seems perfect for the moment we are in.

It was back in 1998 that George Monbiot first pointed out that no sector was as wedded to PFI deals as health. The famous example in Captive State of the Walsgrave hospital in Coventry, knocked down and replaced by a smaller hospital at much greater cost, was just one of many. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but the wider lesson from these early examples, borne out by everything we have seen since, is that privatisation, in whatever form (and, after all, what is PFI but the privatisation of a funding source), always solves a smaller problem than the one you have. The history of privatisation in the NHS has been a series of smaller easier problems dealt with in some cases very efficiently by the private sector (although the efficiency only ever seems to increase the profits of the private companies concerned rather than reduce their price). As it has been in transport (with rail franchises yo-yoing in and out of state control whenever the ask becomes too complex for the train operators taking them on), and utilities, mail services, etc etc.

And the size of the problems that the private sector can take on would appear to be getting smaller.

Take insurance. Ann Pettifor highlights this week what Petra Hielkema, chair of the European Insurance and Occupational Pensions Authority, has to say about the future of the sector in the FT. Apparently he told them that governments and banks will struggle to cope with the soaring costs of natural catastrophes such as floods and wildfires. More households will be unable to insure their homes and the mounting losses from natural disasters could destabilise banks. Two things he said were particularly striking:

“I think it is the biggest risk facing society, frankly” and “Member states — they can’t cope with this.”

There is now talk of an “insurance death spiral“, where insurance premiums shoot up, those least likely to claim drop out, and insurers are left with exclusively “sub-prime” risks on their books (should sound familiar to anyone who has read about the causes of the 2008 crash). In the US, there are obviously problems in the Californian insurance industry which look like causing some degree of financial contagion, but also a particular focus on the health insurance industry as a result of the way Obamacare was implemented.

This contrast between public and private ownership of problems struck me while I was reading the excellent report from the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries and the University of Exeter on climate change: Planetary Solvency. By taking the approach that an insurance company would take in determining its risk appetite and then seeing if its risk exposure matched up to it, it occurred to me that the reason this had never been done before for global climate change was that any insurer would have left such a market years ago on the basis of a brief initial analysis of the problem. Something that a private insurer can always do with any problem.

What if, instead of the NHS being threatened by covert privatisation, the threat is that even the smaller problems private health is currently solving within the system get handed back to the NHS? Because that is the difference. During the pandemic, the threat was that the NHS might not be able to cope with the surge in very ill people and that many would die without care as a result. The reason large parts of NHS operations were repurposed and we were all urged to “flatten the curve” was because, ultimately, there is noone the NHS can hand the responsibility back to and their resources are measured in hours of the right people available to work for them rather than pounds spent and so have a hard physical limit. Although there were significant failures as the Covid Inquiry is currently exploring, the NHS as a whole did not fall over.

However, neither did the US system, because an insurer merely withdraws from a market which might cause it to. It has no responsibility to the system as a whole.

As one MIT researcher responded to being asked about the lessons for the US system of the pandemic:

“The pandemic has revealed the American health care system to be a non-system.”

So it seems to me that arguments about privatisation and nationalisation are a bit beside the point. We have big problems, getting bigger every day, which absolutely have to be solved and limited physical resources with which to do so. Unfortunately His Majesty’s Opposition are still trying to disentangle themselves from the wreckage of Tufton Street’s “thought leadership”, risking a Trumpian climate change denying, health service privatising Reform Party replacing them, and His Majesty’s Government appear to have no idea what they are doing.

So reality does feel pretty radical at the moment. We need to be equally radical in our response to it.

Risk trajectory (black circle) shows the anticipated future state for the risk in 2050. Current risk position in grey. Source: https://actuaries.org.uk/planetary-solvency

The excellent report from the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries and the University of Exeter Planetary Solvency – finding our balance with nature splits the risk trajectories into four sections: Climate, Nature, Society and Economy. I have focused on the Society one above as, in my view, this is the reason we are interested in all of the other ones. According to the Planetary Solvency report, we are on track for a society in 2050 described as follows:

Nature and climate risk trajectories will drive further biophysical constraints including stresses on water supply, further food supply impacts, heat stress, increased disease vectors, likely to drive migration and conflict. Possible to Likely risk of Severe to Decimation level societal impacts, with increasingly severe direct and indirect consequences of climate and nature risks driving socio-political fragmentation in exposed and vulnerable regions.

So what are we doing about it? Well the United States has just voted in Donald Trump as President. There was a flurry of executive orders issued in his first week (with the appropriate caveats about how many of these might actually be implemented), the climate-related ones of which are neatly summarised here by Bill McKibben:

The attacks on sensible energy policy have been swift and savage. We exited the Paris climate accords, paused IRA spending, halted wind and solar projects, gutted the effort to help us transition to electric vehicles, lifted the pause on new LNG export projects, canceled the Climate Corps just as it was getting off the ground, and closed the various government agencies dedicated to environmental justice. Oh, and we declared an “energy emergency” to make it easier to do all of the above.

Timothy Snyder has written about how to respond to tyranny in your own country. What is happening currently in the United States is threatening tyranny for many (as Robert Reich lists here):

The government now recognizes only two “immutable” genders, male and female. Migrants (now referred to as “aliens”) are being turned away at the border. Immigration agents are freed to target hospitals, schools, and churches in search of people to deport. Diversity efforts in the federal government have been dismantled and employees turned into snitches. Federal money will be barred from paying for many abortions.

The first thing you should do, according to Timothy Snyder, is to not obey in advance.

Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do.

And how did we respond to all of this in the UK? Well Keir Starmer was keen to tell The Donald that we were deregulating to boost growth in their first phone call. His reward for this was the story that Trump thought he was doing a good job. Supposedly an endorsement from the “Drill Baby Drill” guy is the proper corrective from being told he should be locked up by the Nazi salute guy.

And then there were the actions on the environment. From the talking out of the Climate and Nature Bill which sought to meet new legally binding targets on climate change and protect nature. To a housing policy which will be both hugely environmentally destructive and fail to make houses more affordable. To announcing the intention to overhaul the planning rules, in the upcoming Planning and Infrastructure Bill, to reduce the power of people to object (and, as the Conservatives’ restrictions on protest have not been lifted, subsequently bang them up for years on end if we subsequently demonstrate about it) so that global firms would think that the UK was a “great place to invest” .

And then today we had Rachel Reeves’ big speech. Approval for developing the third runway at Heathrow, as had been extensively trailed, and the creation of “Europe’s Silicon Valley” between Oxford and Cambridge were the main announcements. There was quite a lot of talk about investment in sustainable aviation fuel (which means biofuels, the benefits of which have already been shown to be wiped out by rising demand).

And as for the Silicon Valley idea, I am not sure we want one. First there is the lack of real innovation despite the excellent game they talk. And second, is it going to be the authoritarian nightmare that the Californian one is turning into? The early signs are not good. Just last week Marcus Bokkerink, the Chair of the Competition and Markets Authority (CMA), was replaced by Doug Gurr, until recently Jeff Bezos’ head of Amazon UK. So not exactly standing up to Technofeudalism then.

According to Cory Doctorow:

Marcus Bokkerink, the outgoing head of the CMA, was amazing, and he had charge over the CMA’s Digital Markets Unit, the largest, best-staffed technical body of any competition regulator, anywhere in the world. The DMU uses its investigatory powers to dig deep into complex monopolistic businesses like Amazon, and just last year, the DMU was given new enforcement powers that would let it custom-craft regulations to address tech monopolization (again, like Amazon’s).

But it’s even worse. The CMA and DMU are the headwaters of a global system of super-effective Big Tech regulation. The CMA’s deeply investigated reports on tech monopolists are used as the basis for EU regulations and enforcement actions, and these actions are then re-run by other world governments, like South Korea and Japan.

When you see Trump flanked by Bezos and the other Tech Bros at his inauguration, it certainly feels like we are obeying in advance. Rachel Reeves’ speech had an enormous increase in energy demand implicit in pretty much every measure announced, which is expected because, GDP (the thing she is looking to boost) and energy consumption have been in lockstep forever. This is the implication of prioritising GDP growth over everything else.

What were missing were both a compensatory increase in renewable energy capacity and/or a reorganisation of our economy away from energy intensity. The problem for the government is that the latter would not increase GDP, so instead we get into the absurd position of the Business Secretary saying we “cannot afford to not build runways”.

However it seems that when the motivation is big enough (in this case to dispute the assertion that the Russian economy is doing well in wartime despite the official statistics, which the EU really needs to do in order to continue to make the case for sanctions) alternative ways to measure the economy can be found. In section 3.2 we find this:

The general assumption of connecting GDP growth to making people better off is not relevant in this situation, which should be included in any discussion of how the Russian economy is doing.

What is interesting about this analysis is that:

a. It is carried out by the kind of orthodox economists (the Stockholm Institute of Transition Economics) who believe GDP would be a good index to use in normal circumstances; and

b. They are saying this even if the GDP figures published by Russia are technically accurate. As they go on to say:

What this analysis suggests is that if we believe in official Russian statistics, then Russia has economic capacity to sustain current policies in the short run, a conclusion shared with many other observers. We also find, though, that beyond the GDP numbers, the redirection into a war economy is already putting pressure on all sectors not directly involved in the war, causing internal macroeconomic imbalances, increasing risks in the financial sector, and eroding export revenues and existing reserves. Short term growth is kept up by a massive fiscal stimulus, but the impact is mitigated by necessary monetary contraction to deal with inflationary pressures, and structural factors (demographics, weak property rights) limiting the possible economic response to the stimulus.

Some of which sound familiar closer to home – “necessary monetary contraction” (things we cannot afford) and “increasing risks in the financial sector” anyone?

We are currently facilitating a world where the only capacity we are increasing is to fly over the climate-ravaged areas of the globe and their fleeing populations. Fly Baby Fly is not going to get us anywhere we want to go.

When I started writing this blog in April 2013, one of its main purposes was to highlight how poor we are at forecasting things, and suggest that our decision-making would improve if we acknowledged this fact. The best example I could find at the time to illustrate this point were the Office of Budget Responsibility (OBR) Gross Domestic Product (GDP) growth forecasts over the previous 3 years. They do not appear to have improved much since then.

Fast forward to 2025 and apparently we have a crisis. Rachel Reeves has been forced to defend her budget following rises in 10 year gilt yields to levels not seen since the financial crisis and the Prime Minister has been forced to say that she will stay in post for the rest of Parliament. Everyone has piled in, from the former Deputy Governor of the Bank of England to the Institute for Fiscal Studies. So is there in fact a crisis? Well no, not really. As an opinion piece in the FT has pointed out, the drivers of the latest rate rise are not really UK-specific at all. Another piece in the FT puts the gilt yield “crisis” into yet further perspective. Finally, there is the comparison with the US gilt market, which moved above its 2008 level in 2022.

The reason for all of the hype of course is the totally self-constructed cul-de-sac that the Government has built around its economic policy options. Tiny movements in government debt or CPI or GDP or indeed gilt yields have been given heightened significance by being explicitly tied to how much the Government will allow itself to spend on its various programmes. As stated in the FT:

Only the OBR can accurately predict how much headroom the Treasury has against its fiscal rules, the Treasury insisted on Wednesday. “Anything else is pure speculation,” it added.

I refer back to the aforementioned forecast history of the OBR and ask how we ever got in a situation where their forecasts would determine how the UK government behaved. As the recent essay by Stefan Eich (on Adam Tooze’s Chartbook) points out, Keynes said:

“Our power of prediction is so slight, our knowledge of remote consequences so uncertain that it is seldom wise to sacrifice a present benefit for a doubtful advantage in the future.” It was consequently rarely right to sacrifice the well-being of the present generation for the sake of a supposed millennium in the remote future.

Meanwhile we are now doing precisely this on the basis of OBR forecasts. As Rachel Reeves set out at the start of her chancellorship in July, in a precise inversion of Keynes:

Because if we cannot afford it, we cannot do it.

Unfortunately for the government, while they spend all of their time trying to solve this imaginary problem they have created for themselves, there are actual real problems that do need to be addressed, and which are currently being drowned out by the noise of political commentators with too little of substance to talk about apparently.

So Sir Michael Marmot, author of the landmark Institute of Health Equity reports on health inequalities in 2010 and 2020 and the recent report on the role of the property sector in improving health, referred to the maintenance of the two child benefit cap as “almost a form of eugenics”.

The Trussell Trust reports that:

A record 9.3 million people face hunger and hardship across the UK. This includes 6.3 million adults and 3 million children. This represents one in seven (14.0%) people across the UK, and one in five (20.9%) children. Current levels are more than a third higher than they were 20 years ago, when 6.7 million people faced hunger and hardship.

And a group from the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries, in partnership with Prof Tim Lenton and his team from the University of Exeter, set out in a report today (Guardian summary here, Planet Critical discussion here) the dangers of the current massive underestimation of climate change risk. As Tim Lenton says:

The choice is simple: continue to be surprised by rapidly escalating and unexpected climate and nature-driven risks, or implement realistic Planetary Solvency risk assessments to build resilience and support ongoing prosperity. We urge policymakers to work with scientists and risk professionals to take this forward before we run the ship of human progress aground on the rocks of poor risk management.

The part which really stood out for me (in such contrast to the equally massively exaggerated risks ascribed to movements in bond markets this week) was on the inadequacy of global risk management practices:

  • Policymakers often prioritise the economy, with their information flows focused on this. But our dominant economic model doesn’t recognise a dependence on the Earth system, viewing climate and nature risks as externalities.
  • Climate change risk assessment methodologies understate economic impact, as they often exclude many of the most severe risks that are expected and do not recognise there is a risk of ruin. They are precisely wrong, rather than being roughly right.
  • The degradation of natural assets such as forests and soils, or the acidification and pollution of the ocean, act as a risk multiplier on the impacts of climate change and vice versa. Traditional risk management techniques typically focus on single risks in isolation, missing network effects and interconnections, underestimating cascading, compounding risks.
  • Current risk management approaches fall short of the RESILIENCE principles detailed in this report for realistic and effective risk management. Consequently, policymaker risk information is likely to significantly understate the potential impact of climate and nature risks, weakening the argument for urgent action.
  • These limitations mean that policymakers are likely to have accepted much higher levels of risk than is commonly realised.

If policymakers judged these risks on the same calibration scale as they current view the knockabout on financial markets I doubt we would ever hear about the intricacies of the 10 year gilt yield or the decimal places of CPI ever again. Similarly, if the societal impact of prolonged policies targeting the poor was included (perhaps in the form of meaningful measures of poverty based on the work of the Social Metrics Commission), rather than the level of the FTSE 100, we might start to make inroads into the current dire statistics.

We have hard problems to solve which require a serious government prepared to be bold, do big things and take the political risk of doing so (because the political risks are so tiny compared to the actual risks the population face), not one so focused and constrained by minutiae that it defeats itself.

I thought I would return to a point I raised in my musings on Deadmeat before Christmas, because it has probably got the most reaction from readers of the blog of anything I wrote in 2024. Most of the reaction, it has to be said, was disbelieving. The point in question was this:

And this is the key I think. What economists call “public goods”, goods which are non-rivalrous (ie your use of the sun’s energy does not stop somebody else’s unless you put them in the shade) and non-excludable (ie you cannot easily stop someone else from using it, in this case by sticking a solar panel on their roof), are very difficult if not impossible to make a profit from. Private markets will therefore not provide these goods, possibly at all without extremely artificial regulation (something we have probably had enough of with our utilities in the UK) and certainly not in the quantity that will be required.

Economics by Sloman, Garratt and Guest, which informs the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries’ core reading for its Business Economics syllabus states (in its 10th edition) that a pure public good is:

A good or service that has the characteristics of being perfectly non-rival and completely non-excludable and, as a result, would not be provided by the free market.

It then goes on to say that:

There is some debate as to whether pure public goods actually exist or whether they are merely a theoretical idea.

This I think brings us back to the extremely artificial regulation I mentioned above, as a lot of the economists who have got their views into this book (the sort that have contributed to the “debate” over whether pure public goods exist) appear to struggle with the idea that markets cannot provide everything better, even if you have to embark on some pretty tortuous contortions to create them.

My conclusion in my previous post was as follows:

Therefore if the private sector will not provide public goods and renewable power is predominantly a public good, then it follows that renewable power needs to be in public ownership. And if the climate crisis requires all power to be renewable and zero carbon, which it does, then it also follows that the entire power sector ultimately needs to be in public ownership too.

However I now realise that this is not quite correct. There is an alternative to public ownership. Not the ridiculous quasi-markets which bedevil our utilities in the UK currently, which I don’t expect to be with us for many more decades, but something else which is alive and well and in the process of taking over capitalism as we know it: private monopoly.

As Yanis Varoufakis says in Technofeudalism about green energy in particular:

Advances in green energy are pushing down fast the costs of green electricity generation. Even though the life cycle of fossil fuels has been extended, ruinously for the planet, cloud-based green energy is growing – and, with it, so is the relative power of cloudalists.

“Cloudalists” are our modern feudal lords. Whereas capitalism was a system in which the most powerful people as owners of capital were able to dictate how and where workers could use their capital to make profit for them, under technofeudalism the money is made as rent.

In the section entitled “The New Enclosures” Varoufakis says:

“In the eighteenth century, it was land that the many were denied access to. In the twenty-first century, it is access to our own identity.” Expanding on this:

Strewn across countless privately owned digital realms, it has many owners, none of whom is us: a private bank owns your ID codes and your entire publishing record. Facebook is intimately familiar with whom – and what – you like. Twitter remembers every little thought that caught your attention, every opinion that you agreed with, that made you furious, that you lingered over idly before scrolling on. Apple and Google know better than you do what you watch, read, buy, whom you meet, when and where. Spotify owns a record of your musical preferences more complete than the one stored in your conscious memory. And behind them all are countless others, invisibly gathering, monitoring , sifting and trading your activity for information about you. With every day that passes, some cloud-based corporation, whose owners you will never care to know, owns another aspect of your identity.

As Cory Doctorow says in his review of Technofeudalism:

Varoufakis points to ways that the cloudalists can cement their gains: for example, “green” energy doesn’t rely on land-leases (like fossil fuels), but it does rely on networked grids and data-protocols that can be loaded up with IP, either or both of which can be turned into chokepoints for feudal rent-extraction.

To make things worse, Varoufakis argues that cloudalists won’t be able to muster the degree of coordination and patience needed to actually resolve the climate emergency – they’ll not only extract rent from every source of renewables, but they’ll also silo them in ways that make them incapable of doing the things we need them to do.

When did we get so complacent about private monopolies? As Cory Doctorow reminds us in The Internet Con, in the 19th century debate in the US Senate about monopolies, Senator John Sherman (of the 1890 Sherman Act) gave the war against monopolies equal importance to the recently won War of Independence from the British Crown:

If we will not endure a King as a political power we should not endure a King over the production, transportation, and sale of the necessaries of life. If we would not submit to an emperor we should not submit to an autocrat of trade with power to prevent competition and to fix the price of any commodity.

The “harmful dominance” theory of antitrust (ie the idea that companies which dominate an industry are potentially harmful just because they are dominant, before they even start to abuse their dominant positions) led to the dismantling of several “empires”, including that of Rockefeller’s Standard Oil Company in the early 20th century.

But the power of the Varoufakis’ cloudalists vastly exceeds anything Rockefeller (oil), Carnegie (steel), Vanderbilt (railroads and shipping) and, of course, JP Morgan could muster even at the height of their influence.

Which brings me back to my original contention that the energy sector needs to be in public ownership. There may be many other “necessaries of life” which we may also want to consider bringing back into the public realm if their provision is otherwise going to slip beyond our regulatory grasp. Because the alternative is to relinquish any last vestiges of control over how we run our lives to puffed up billionaires. If you object to Elon Musk conducting polls about whether to stage a coup in the UK, then it is probably worth expending some effort on trying to stop someone like him deciding whether you can heat your home, cook a meal or charge your phone.

Picture of Pinhead character wearing a Deadpool type mask made out of one of his ties

Imagine a super-hero who could not be killed. No I don’t mean Deadpool. A more apt name for our super-hero would be Deadmeat. Deadmeat is empirically dead, but, rather like the Monty Python parrot, is being energetically kept alive by the pretence of its continued existence amongst all of those around it. So much so that it becomes impolite to expose the pretence and point out that Deadmeat is in fact dead. If you really push, and someone likes you enough to want to give you an explanation, you will have a hand put on your shoulder and be led away to a corner to have the pretence explained to you. What that explanation turns out to be is something like this. Deadmeat is of course the Paris climate agreement from 2015 which committed 193 countries plus the EU to “pursue efforts” to limit global temperature rises to 1.5C, and to keep them “well below” 2.0C above those recorded in pre-industrial times.

Deadmeat, it turns out, wasn’t shot. Deadmeat was overshot. Under overshoot, we bring the terrible thing back under control after it has done the damage and hope we can fix the damage at a later date. It’s a bit like the belief in cryopreservation or uploading our brains into cyberspace in the hope that we can have our bodies fixed with future medicine or be provided with artificial bodies. It means relying on science fiction to save us.

Andreas Malm and Wim Carton have considered this approach and how we got here in their latest book Overshoot. For me there are two big ideas in this book, although the account of how things definitively got away from us immediately post pandemic and exactly how that played out is mesmerising too. I thoroughly recommend a read.

The first big idea is the problem with the justification for overshoot in the first place, which is that at some point in the future we will be so much richer and more technologically advanced that it will be much easier to bring carbon dioxide levels down to sustainable levels than to try and stay within sustainable levels now. In what they call “The Contradiction of the Last Moment” Malm and Carton show how an intense fresh round of fossil fuel investment is almost certain to occur close to a temperature deadline (ie fossil fuel companies rushing to build more infrastructure while it is still allowed), whether it is 1.5 or 2 degrees or something higher. Then, as they put it “the interest in missing it will be overwhelmingly strong”. If an investment is 40 or 50 years old, then it might not be so disastrous to have it retired, but if a fossil fuel company has invested billions in the last few years in it? They will fight tooth and nail to keep it open and producing. And by prolonging the time until the retirement of fossil fuel infrastructure, the capital which has used the time to entrench its position and now owns a thousand new plants rather than a few hundred will be in a much stronger position to dictate policy. The longer we leave it, they argue, the harder it will become to retire fossil fuels, not easier.

The second big idea explains why, despite the enormous price collapse of solar power in particular, there is no Big Solar to compete with Big Oil. As they put it “there was no Microsoft or Apple or Facebook. More broadly, there was no Boulton & Watt of the flow, no Edison Machine Works, no Ford factories, no ascendant clusters of capital accumulation riding this wave.” The only remotely comparable company would be Tesla, but they produced cars. Why is this?

Malm and Carton talk about “the scissor”, the difference between the stock of the fossil fuel industry and the flow of renewable power. Fossil fuel’s “highly rivalrous goods: the consumption of one barrel of oil or one wagon-load of coal means that no one can ever consume it again. Every piece of fossil fuel burns once and once only. But supplies of sunlight and wind are in no way affected by any one consumer’s use.”

And this is the key I think. What economists call “public goods”, goods which are non-rivalrous (ie your use of the sun’s energy does not stop somebody else’s unless you put them in the shade) and non-excludable (ie you cannot easily stop someone else from using it, in this case by sticking a solar panel on their roof), are very difficult if not impossible to make a profit from. Private markets will therefore not provide these goods, possibly at all without extremely artificial regulation (something we have probably had enough of with our utilities in the UK) and certainly not in the quantity that will be required.

In Postcapitalism, Paul Mason discussed the options when the price mechanism disappears and additional units of output cannot be charged for. As he put it:

Technologically, we are headed for zero-price goods, unmeasurable work, an exponential takeoff in productivity and the extensive automation of physical processes. Socially, we are trapped in a world of monopolies, inefficiency, the ruins of a finance-dominated free market and a proliferation of “bullshit jobs”.

This also ties in with my own experience and others I have spoken to over the years about how hard it is to invest outside of fossil fuels and make a return.

Therefore if the private sector will not provide public goods and renewable power is predominantly a public good, then it follows that renewable power needs to be in public ownership. And if the climate crisis requires all power to be renewable and zero carbon, which it does, then it also follows that the entire power sector ultimately needs to be in public ownership too.

And then the motivation for overshoot becomes clear and how high the stakes are: not just the proceeds of the sale from one dead parrot as it turns out, but the future of private power generation. My fear is that the Deadmeat franchise may end up having as many sequels as Godzilla (38 and counting). With the potential to do rather more damage in the process.

I last talked about Chartered Actuary status here two years ago when the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries (IFoA) set out how they had decided to introduce it. I focused then on what we needed to do to make this a change worth making: like offering roles for actuaries on completion of core practice modules; not necessarily insisting on further actuarial specialisation as a requirement for senior roles within firms; getting comfortable with a much wider range of specialisms amongst those we consider to be actuaries. Some were already doing this then, but most of us have still not travelled very far in this direction. And I note that the Route to Becoming An Actuary still features a diagram where an IFoA Associate is shown as a milestone on the way to the final destination of becoming a Fellow.

But the fact is that Chartered Actuary status has finally been launched this week. I am a retired actuary now but I have claimed chartered status nevertheless because it is a designation I very much think needs to be supported. However ultimately the success of it will not depend on employers or even the profession itself, and certainly not on retired old duffers like me. It will depend on students now and in the future. Therefore, in the unlikely event that any actuarial students are reading my blog, I am addressing this piece directly to you.

Whether you are a student who, like most actuarial students, started work with no or perhaps just one or two exam exemptions, or a graduate from an actuarial science undergraduate programme with most or all of the core practice exemptions, this means that the barriers to you starting to take your actuarial career off in the direction you want it to go in and think the world needs just got a bit easier to jump. If you are a graduate from some actuarial MSc programmes or even possibly a single qualification like the MMath in Mathematics and Actuarial Science at the University of Leicester (last plug for my former employer, I promise), you may be able to claim Chartered Actuary Associate status already.

Using it may not necessarily be so easy, particularly in the early years. Some employers may be resistant to the new designation. But if you are planning to join the profession to make a positive difference in the world, and that is in my view the best reason to do so, then you are going to have to shake a few things up along the way.

Perhaps there is a type of actuarial business you think the world is crying out for but it doesn’t know it yet because it doesn’t exist. Start one.

Perhaps there is an obvious skill set to run alongside your actuarial one which most actuaries haven’t realised would turbo-charge the effectiveness of both. Acquire it.

Perhaps your company has a client who noone has taken the time to put themselves in their shoes and communicate in a way they will properly understand and value. Be that person.

Or perhaps there are existing businesses who are struggling to manage their way in changing markets and need someone who can make sense of the data which is telling them this. Be that person.

Whatever you decide to do, do it with a chartered actuary designation, whether associate or fellow, as a badge that you are prepared to look beyond traditional ways of doing things and, where the historical way of doing things is obviously no longer working or could clearly be massively improved, do the hard work of rethinking things from first principles if necessary. If you do it right, this can be seen as a badge for actuaries who are both rigorous and flexible in their thinking. If that happens, the chartered actuary designation will flourish and it will also be of maximum benefit to you too.

So now it is up to you what becomes of Chartered Actuary status. I am really looking forward to watching what you do with it!

The biggest battle in the climate sphere used to be between climate deniers and climate scientists, perhaps the battle we are most used to. Some, like Michael Mann for instance, are still earnestly fighting this one, but at the recent UK election, only 14% of voters opted for the one climate denial party (Reform). In fact the climate deniers are now more frequently climate denier deniers, ie denying they are or ever have been denying.

Then last year the biggest battle seemed to have become between climate campaigners and climate doomers. Rebecca Solnit wrote an exasperated piece in The Guardian in July last year called We can’t afford to be climate doomers, which drew an equally exasperated response from Jem Bendell called Let’s tell the moodsplainers they’re wrong and then get back to work.

I think Solnit clarifies most starkly what her argument is all about when she talks about hope:

Hope is not happiness or confidence or inner peace; it’s a commitment to search for possibilities.

However Bendell is also focused on searching for possible solutions. He quotes the Kenyan climate activist, Dr Nyambura Mbau, who argues that “The millions of people being uprooted by climate change do not benefit from the ‘stubborn optimism’ of environmental elites. Instead, they will be better served by the stubborn realism of the experts and activists now brave enough to call for urgent degrowth in rich countries and fair adaptation everywhere.”

Then there is that increasingly less marginal idea of degrowth. Only this week, James Meadway, Aashis Joshi and Jason Hickel had a fairly heated exchange on X about the recent paper by Hickel and Sullivan called How much growth is required to achieve good lives for all? Insights from needs-based analysis. Joshi felt that the degradation already caused by climate change made the outcomes possible via better distribution of wealth suggested by Hickel and Sullivan unachievable. One of Hickel’s tweeted responses went like this:

To say you’re happy to live in a world where you get to use a phone and laptop, but these should be actively denied to people who don’t have them because… ecological collapse might happen? Not acceptable.

I saw another take on this by Chris Shaw earlier today at the Dark Times Academy launch event. He seemed to share many of the views set out by Bendell above, and his book, Liberalism and the Challenge of Climate Change, goes further in suggesting that liberalism cannot provide us with acceptable climate solutions as long as it continues to present net zero as solving all our problems rather than as the least worst option that will still leave us with a much depleted global environment. His dismissal of degrowth revolved around the lack of narrative of how we get from here to there, specifically the dramatic movement of political power that would be required. However amongst the academics presenting their new courses for the Academy, Piers Locke’s Future Thriving looked like it would present some challenges to Shaw’s critique.

It seems to me that there is room for different takes on the optimism/realism axis here. For instance Simon Sharpe’s excellent Five Times Faster, while not shying away from the size of the task ahead on decarbonising, definitely has a feel-good quality to it. It is designed to wake us up to the possibilities offered to us by exponential technological change and social tipping points. By contrast, the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries’ Sustainability Group’s publication earlier this year, Climate Scorpion – the sting is in the tail, is all about waking people up to a higher level of climate risk than they may previously have been aware of. Meanwhile Sir David King, former UK Government Chief Scientific Adviser, is currently Chair of the Climate Crisis Advisory Group and founded the Centre for Climate Repair at the University of Cambridge. He set out his thoughts about where we are here.

So there are many shades of hope and despair on show here (I could obviously have mentioned many more that the few picked out here). What really matters is how fast and how radically we can act as a global species to the climate emergency. And the UK would make a good start if it stopped pretending that £22 billion is a lot of money for a developed country to find.

Posted on LinkedIn on 4 June 2024

This is just a quick personal note to explain the imminent end of my LinkedIn account.

LinkedIn became an important tool for me in 2014 when I became a Lecturer at the University of Leicester and Programme Director for the BSc Mathematics and Actuarial Science there: to connect with potential students and guests to the university, to link up with former students, to publicise the activities of the Leicester Actuarial Science Society and to facilitate a professional network which would be useful to our current and former students. I also posted a few articles here along the way. However I will be leaving the University of Leicester on 30 June and moving to retired status with the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries soon afterwards. Therefore the description I have given myself here (Actuary, Lecturer and Writer at the University of Leicester) will at that point become almost entirely untrue! It therefore seems like an appropriate time to wind up my account here.

According to the latest analytics, I have around 1,400 connections on LinkedIn. Thank you to everyone who has connected with me over the years, particularly if we worked together in some capacity. I have managed to work with some wonderful people over the last 10 years. A particularly big thank you to all of the students who have made the job so enjoyable during that time.

Of those 1,400 connections, over 400 of you list the University of Leicester in your profiles. If you are a current or former student, or indeed anyone who needs to be in contact with a member of the Leicester actuarial team and are currently only connected to me, you should ensure that you are connected to at least one of the following excellent colleagues of mine: Leena Sodha, Paul King or Nigel Sell. You should, in addition, as a current Leicester student, join the LinkedIn group Leicester Actuarial Science Society. If you are a former Leicester student, the group you want is Leicester Actuarial Science Society – Alumni.

I will continue to be in various actuarial WhatsApp groups for the time being and on X (@weknow0). And, if you like any part of what I write, you can always subscribe (for free!) at weknow0.co.uk. For those of you who still want to keep in touch with me by email once I have left here and my Leicester email address has been discontinued, and we have not already shared alternative contact details, please send me a message on LinkedIn (or weknow0.co.uk) and I will be in touch.

With my best wishes for the future to you all.

The Telegraph thinks the shareholders are to blame. The Guardian has the Australian investment bank Macquarie in its sights. Martin Bradley’s (the European Head of Infrastructure at Macquarie Asset Management) attempts in Infrastructure Investor at justifying their actions only seem to be making things worse. The FT is using it as an excuse to have a go at the Capital Asset Pricing Model. Count Binface has included in his manifesto for the London Mayoral election a requirement for the company’s management to “take a dip in the Thames, to see how they like it”.

I am talking of course about Thames Water, which really does appear to be everywhere at the moment. But how did we get here?

The management of water works by private companies was originally a legacy of the Victorians – most of the water supply and all waste water services moved into local government control from the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Control then passed from 165 different water supply bodies to 10 regional water authorities in 1974 before these were sold back to private companies in 1989.

Water is obviously a resource vital to all of us, as well as being what economists call a natural monopoly. There have been debates for quite some time now about renationalising the water industry – some arguing that it is too expensive and that a Welsh Water not-for-profit model is the answer, others saying that water, electricity and Royal Mail together would cost less than £50 billion to nationalise and would pay for themselves within 7 years if investors were just repaid what they had invested in the businesses, others saying that water is a failed business and could be acquired without compensation for shareholders as happened with Northern Rock.

What none of these appear to be arguing is that private monopolies should not exist as a reason for renationalising water. We have become so used to monopoly or oligopoly profits in everything from utilities to transport to mobile phones to supermarkets, that we sometimes forget that it has not always been like this.

This point was made to me powerfully in Cory Doctorow’s excellent The Internet Con – How to Seize the Means of Computation. The 19th century debate in the US Senate about monopolies was impassioned. Senator John Sherman of the 1890 Sherman Act effectively put the war against monopolies on an equivalent footing with the War of Independence from the British Crown:

If we will not endure a King as a political power we should not endure a King over the production, transportation, and sale of the necessaries of life. If we would not submit to an emperor we should not submit to an autocrat of trade with power to prevent competition and to fix the price of any commodity.

It’s stirring stuff. The “harmful dominance” theory of antitrust (ie the idea that companies which dominate an industry are potentially harmful just because they are dominant, before they even start to abuse their dominant positions) led to the dismantling of several “empires”, including that of Rockefeller’s Standard Oil Company in the early 20th century.

But then enter Robert Bork. Famous amongst other things for having an extremely dull taste in video rentals, Bork was Solicitor General of the US between 1973 and 1977, under Presidents Nixon and Ford, and Acting US Attorney General from 1982 to 1988 under President Reagan. Bork developed what he called a “consumer welfare” theory of antitrust. This allowed mergers and monopolies to proceed provided prices were lowered and/or quality improved, or even if they weren’t as long as some “exogenous factors” could be blamed for the price hikes or reduction in quality.

Sound familiar? It should, as we all still live in Bork’s world. For example, the microeconomics part of the Institute and Faculty of Actuaries’ Business Economics syllabus relating to imperfect markets reads as follows:

Note the focus on the different ways firms supposedly maximise profits (this approach is fairly thoroughly debunked by Steve Keen here) rather than on the market power they wield. The part which should include the regulation of monopolies reads as follows:

Note the lowering of expectations in 3.1.6: “Why government intervention might not improve market outcomes in practice even if the existence of ‘market failures’ suggest they can in theory”. However the real limitations are laid bare in 3.2. The main targets of “competition policy” in the text book (Economics by Sloman et al) you are pointed to by the core reading turn out to be what are referred to as “exclusionary abuses”, ie where businesses actively prevent effective competition from actual or potential competitors. As the preamble on competition policy in Sloman says:

Competition policy could ban various structures. For example, there could be restrictions on mergers leading to market share of more than a certain amount. (This is the harmful dominant approach, about which no more is said) Most countries, however, focus on whether the practices of particular monopolists or oligopolists are anti-competitive. Some practices may be made illegal, such as price fixing by oligopolists; others may be assessed on a case-by-case basis. Such an approach does not presume that the existence of power is against the public interest, but rather that certain uses of that power may be.

So, in other words, we will leave monopolistic businesses with the power and attempt to detect abuses of that power on a case-by case basis via overworked and under-resourced regulators. Sherman could have never cut Standard Oil down to size with this approach.

Yanis Varoufakis’ contention, in Technofeudalism, is that capitalism now only operates within the framework provided by the most extreme monopolists of Big Tech, with most of us either “cloud proles” (ie wage slaves working for Big Tech under feudal conditions) or “cloud serfs” (ie the rest of us working for Big Tech for free by creating content and sharing our data on their platforms). Big Tech’s size massively increased as a result of the bank bail out of 2008 and additional money pumped through them and the corporations working for them coupled with austerity for everyone else, which was therefore almost totally financialised – leading to the “everything rally” for asset owners.

As Varoufakis says:

When an activist state makes fabulously wealthier the same bankers whose quasi-criminal activities brought misery to the majority, while they are punished with self-defeating austerity, two new calamities beckon: poisoned politics and permanent stagnation.

Again, sound familiar?

It is not too late to push back against the monopolies which control our lives. Doctorow’s big idea in The Internet Con is interoperability, the ability of new technologies to plug into Big Tech’s services, systems and platforms, which Big Tech tends to resist with all of the power at its disposal. He makes a convincing case for how this simple change could reduce the size of Big Tech companies quickly and bring them within the scope of democratic control once more.

And for those businesses which need to be at monopoly scale to work at all? Water, for instance. That sounds like an unanswerable case for nationalisation to me. Perhaps assuming that dominant private companies are bound to be harmful needs to come back into fashion.

A member splatted against the relentless forehead of a streamlined, efficient, simplified and clarified IFoA

So the proposals which I wrote about last month have been reconsidered by the newly elected Institute and Faculty of Actuaries (IFoA) Council on 15 October, where they agreed some tweaks to the original proposals as follows:

Council devised and ultimately voted for revised measures based on the member feedback it had received on the previously approved reforms. You told us that you wanted the new President and Council (2023-2024) to reconsider the reforms and we agreed this at our meeting on 1 September 2023. You told us that you wanted better communication and more engagement and we have embarked on one of the biggest member engagement exercises in our history which will continue next year into the role of Council. You told us that you were uncomfortable with the idea that actuaries would be in the minority on the board. We have responded by changing the makeup of the new IFoA Board so that it will continue to have a majority of actuaries. You told us that you wanted safeguards to ensure the IFoA Board could be held to account and that a “bad board” could not self-perpetuate. We have responded by ensuring that appointments of members and independents to the IFoA Board will need to be ratified by Council on first appointment and every 3 years for the remainder of their term.

So am I happy now? The answer is no in some respects and I don’t know in others. No I am not happy that a member vote still seems to be proposed for 2026, giving this proposal the inside track to becoming the final permanent governance structure by only asking for a vote after most of us will have become quite hazy about what went before it.

I don’t know because we are still not going to be given sight of any part of the DAC Beachcroft report to which these proposals are supposed to be a response. We are therefore being asked to completely trust the description of what was in it by the very people trying to sell us their proposals. That is a big ask in my view.

However it is also difficult to raise any formal objections to the proposed amendment to Regulations 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 12 and 13 in this state of enforced ignorance. I will therefore be raising the concerns I have set out here by contacting the Corporate Secretary at the IFoA. If you feel that you can go further and formally object on the basis of what you have or have not been told, then those objections should be raised by 30 January to be considered.

Perhaps I am making too much of what I don’t know, but I was struck by the references here to any future consultation being confined to the role of Council, with the rest of the governance structure seemingly regarded as done and dusted. Also if you watch to the end of the little video there, you are confronted with this message:

Is our ability to continue to self-regulate at all really under threat? I would have expected to be told rather more about why this is before being asked for my views in a member organisation such as the IFoA.

I accept that many of the IFoA’s functions may need a more streamlined system to run them effectively. There are many different alternative structures which we could consider to achieve this. But these proposals are about changing the very nature of the IFoA and that requires full disclosure to members about why we are doing this and a chance to vote before we do so in my view. More than a tweak, in other words.