Why new runways are not the solution

Only a new hub airport can balance our aviation needs with those of the environment.

A quarter of all those in Europe who are affected by aircraft noise live under the Heathrow flight-path. If there is a single statistic which underlines the failure of British aviation policy it is this. For decades, a combination of powerful lobbyists and weak decision-making has led ministers to slavishly accept the hodgepodge expansion of Heathrow. There has been very little vision, and very little evidence-based policy making.

The previous Labour government, for example, decided to build a third runway at Heathrow, and only then asked the independent Committee on Climate Change (CCC) to figure out how the UK could meet its 2050 carbon reduction target. They didn't allow the facts to affect their policy. But the CCC did some very useful work, and calculated that, based on increased plane loads, new technology and fuel improvements, our carbon budget allows for about a 60% increase on current passenger numbers, bringing us to around 368 million passengers per annum. This is still a very large increase in the proportion of our carbon emissions due to aviation – the industry would emit 37.5MtCO2 a year by 2050. It is harder to decarbonise aviation than other sectors. But this 60% increase represents a lot of opportunities for new destinations and new travellers - within our carbon cap.

So, how much new capacity do we need to build to take us up to this limit? The answer is none. We can reach that 60% increase with no third runway at Heathrow, no new Thames Estuary airport, no second runway at Gatwick or Stansted. And Department for Transport forecasts suggest that we won't get to that point until about 2030. In particular, Gatwick is already expanding into new markets with routes to China, South Korea and Vietnam. Stansted is only around 50% full, and it makes no sense whatsoever to build a second runway at either. Indeed, rather than pushing for new runways, both airports are campaigning for rail links and improved surface access to help their growth, which brings environmental gains too: up to half of emissions from aviation actually come from surface movements, rather than the planes.

It’s clear that Heathrow plays a very important role - it is our only hub airport, and caters for transfer passengers, particularly business users, and that enables flights to emerging markets to become economically viable. It’s also true that Heathrow is almost totally full. While in the short term there are a few tools available to encourage flights to transfer to Gatwick or Stansted, if we are to retain a successful hub airport and all the benefits it brings, we need to look at longer-term solutions. Mixed Mode operation and a large increase in night flights have been proposed, but they fail the same test as the third runway - they affect far too many people who already suffer massively from noise pollution. And it has a huge effect on London’s air quality. Heathrow is, simply put, in the wrong location for our current needs.

Boris Johnson, I suspect for electoral reasons, recognises that Heathrow is not the answer. But his solution is perhaps even more wrong. Located east of London in the Thames estuary, 'Boris Island' would be largely inaccessible for anyone living outside London and the south east, making it even harder to spread economic growth to the north and west of the country. It would essentially be a transfer hub for foreign travellers (paying no APD) and the City. Before construction could even begin, you'd have to somehow move or defuse the remains of the SS Richard Montgomery, a wartime liberty ship whose detonation would cause a small tidal wave up the Thames and possibly one of the world's largest non-nuclear blasts. The chance of bird-strike is also 12 times higher here, let alone the crippling effect it would have on this vital migratory route. The RSPB claimed it would be one of the worst environmental decisions the country has made. Finally, the expense of this project would be astronomical and it would take far too long to construct. You'd have to start the infrastructure from scratch. It's simply not a goer, and I am delighted that I and the Lib Dems rejected it so promptly.

Is there a better option? We have to be clear that total UK aircraft movements in 2050 cannot be above the limit suggested by the CCC. So there is no point in building capacity which would allow us to vastly exceed that limit. Our 2050 carbon reduction target is not some figure that can be fiddled if a future government realises they can't meet it. The effect on our children's economy and their environment would be immense. We must not burden them with an environmental debt from which they cannot escape. But that still leaves us with a 60% increase in passenger movements which is allowed within UK carbon budgets.

For now, we can meet it with the runways we have, using the capacity at Manchester and Birmingham, for example, but it makes sense to consider the option of having a new hub, bringing together runways in one place to link with all the transfer passengers and new routes they bring to bear. That new hub could only happen with the closure of other runways and airports to ensure a future government doesn't exceed the available carbon budget. And this new hub couldn't be just anywhere - it would have to be accessible to north and south of the country, and be somewhere which would pose minimal impact to the local population and to the local environment.

The Labour Party is at best vague on this - they "accept the Government’s decision to cancel the third runway at Heathrow" - but fail to say whether they actually support it or don't - and many of their backbenchers (and frontbenchers) still argue for the third runway. They also argue for more expansion of aviation in the south east, threatening to breach our environmental constraints.

Some Tories, such as the Transport Secretary, Justine Greening, understand the need for environmental considerations to play a key role in aviation policy, in keeping with the Coalition Agreement, but there is a growing band of pro-third runway MPs, including George Osborne. Few seem to take Boris Island that seriously.

This autumn, the Liberal Democrats will vote on a conference motion that presents a proper policy to the public, outside of the vested interests in the aviation industry. The public deserve an airport policy which balances the benefits from aviation with the harm it can do to the environment globally and locally. That is exactly what we’ll deliver.

A British Airways aircraft taxis past other parked aircraft at Terminal 5 of Heathrow Airport. Photograph: Getty Images.

Julian Huppert is the Liberal Democrat MP for Cambridge.

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The dog at the end of the lead may be small, but in fact what I’m walking is a hound of love

There is a new, hairy face in the Hovel.

There is a new, hairy face in the Hovel. I seem to have become a temporary co-owner of an enthusiastic Chorkie. A Chorkie, in case you’re not quite up to speed with your canine crossbreeds, is a mixture of a chihuahua and a Yorkshire Terrier, and while my friend K— busies herself elsewhere I am looking after this hound.

This falls squarely into the category of Things I Never Thought I’d Do. I’m a cat person, taking my cue from their idleness, cruelty and beauty. Dogs, with their loyalty, their enthusiasm and their barking, are all a little too much for me, even after the first drink of the day. But the dog is here, and I am in loco parentis, and it is up to me to make sure that she is looked after and entertained, and that there is no repetition of the unfortunate accident that occurred outside my housemate’s room, and which needed several tissues and a little poo baggie to make good.

As it is, the dog thinks I am the bee’s knees. To give you an idea of how beeskneesian it finds me, it is licking my feet as I write. “All right,” I feel like saying to her, “you don’t have to go that far.”

But it’s quite nice to be worshipped like this, I have decided. She has also fallen in love with the Hovel, and literally writhes with delight at the stinky cushions on the sofa. Named after Trude Fleischmann, the lesbian erotic photographer of the Twenties, Thirties and Forties, she has decided, with admirable open-mindedness, that I am the Leader of the Pack. When I take the lead, K— gets a little vexed.

“She’s walking on a loose lead, with you,” K— says. “She never does that when I’m walking her.” I don’t even know what that means, until I have a think and work it out.

“She’s also walking to heel with you,” K— adds, and once again I have to join a couple of mental dots before the mists part. It would appear that when it comes to dogs, I have a natural competence and authority, qualities I had never, not even in my most deranged flights of self-love, considered myself to possess in any measurable quantity at all.

And golly, does having a dog change the relationship the British urban flâneur has with the rest of society. The British, especially those living south of Watford, and above all those in London, do not recognise other people’s existence unless they want to buy something off them or stop them standing on the left of the sodding escalator, you idiot. This all changes when you have a dog with you. You are now fair game for any dog-fancier to come up to you and ask the most personal questions about the dog’s history and genealogy. They don’t even have to have a dog of their own; but if you do, you are obliged by law to stop and exchange dog facts.

My knowledge of dog facts is scant, extending not much further beyond them having a leg at each corner and chasing squirrels, so I leave the talking to K—, who, being a friendly sort who could probably talk dog all day long if pressed, is quite happy to do that. I look meanwhile in a kind of blank wonder at whichever brand of dog we’ve just encountered, and marvel not only at the incredible diversity of dog that abounds in the world, but at a realisation that had hitherto escaped me: almost half of London seems to have one.

And here’s the really interesting thing. When I have the leash, the city looks at me another way. And, specifically, the young women of the city. Having reached the age when one ceases to be visible to any member of the opposite sex under 30, I find, all of a sudden, that I exist again. Women of improbable beauty look at Trude, who looks far more Yorkie than chihuahua, apart from when she does that thing with the ears, and then look at me, and smile unguardedly and unironically, signalling to me that they have decided I am a Good Thing and would, were their schedules not preventing them, like to chat and get to know me and the dog a bit better.

I wonder at first if I am imagining this. I mention it to K—.

“Oh yes,” she says, “it’s a thing. My friend P-J regularly borrows her when he wants to get laid. He reckons he’s had about 12 shags thanks to her in the last six months. The problems only arise when they come back again and notice the dog isn’t there.”

I do the maths. Twelve in six months! That’s one a fortnight. An idea begins to form in my mind. I suppose you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to work out what it is. But no. I couldn’t. Could I?

Nicholas Lezard is a literary critic for the Guardian and also writes for the Independent. He writes the Down and Out in London column for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 28 April 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The new fascism