We were naive to think a low-carbon revolution was coming

A long way from the shift.

In recent months, we have seen environmentalists in the UK jittery about policy direction in the government, US Republicans overtly hostile to renewables, the Japanese government abandoning nuclear energy (imports of oil and gas having surged since Fukushima, a trend now likely to continue) and the largest recorded melting of the Arctic ice caps.

All of this seems a long way from the vision of the "third industrial revolution", a concept based on a social enterprise-driven low carbon economy developed by American economist Jeremy Rifkin and enthusiastically endorsed by the European Parliament in May 2007.

"Paradigm shift", an over-used term famously coined by American scientist Thomas Kuhn 60 years ago to explain the progression of scientific thought, is now liberally scattered across all areas of human activity, not least in energy and the environment. But, despite its over-use, Rifkin felt it suited the transformation to a low carbon economy that he saw coming.

In his book, Rifkin argued that all industrial revolutions flow from simultaneous change in communications and energy technologies. We are, he said, on the brink of a third industrial revolution brought about by sophisticated IT, low carbon micro-technologies and breakthroughs in energy storage, which will turn buildings into power stations. He also thought this new paradigm would see a change in control of energy away from centralised, fossil-fuel based structures, which in turn would lead to a move towards new distributed and collaborative models. Europe, not the US, would be the social laboratory for this new revolution, where new energy technology would allow social enterprise to replace pure market principles and to become, in Rifkin’s words, "the dominant sector of the second half of the century".

Colleagues based in a country that depends on Europe for 80 per cent of its oil and gas exports asked me recently about the third industrial revolution. Having seen it apparently driving policy-making at the highest level, they naturally wondered how this was shaping the energy agenda in their biggest export area and what the implications were for their products which were supposedly about to be displaced.

But this is not the same world as 2007 and the third industrial revolution feels much more utopian – even naïve – now than it did back then. Whilst there is a lot that pushes us down the road to decarbonisation, there are some pretty big bumps in the road. It must be a very wide highway as well, because there is a lot of lane-changing going on at the moment.

If the green economy is strengthening, it is not for a single, dominant reason – for example, because policy is uniquely focused on the replacement of the old energy system with an entirely new one or because the sense of urgency on carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions is any greater than it was five years ago. Instead, there is a complex interaction between global concerns and some much more parochial worries about autonomy (interestingly, a key theme for the US Republicans), resilience and security of supply, as well as cost. It’s a messy landscape and in Europe these are operating at several levels.

Meanwhile, the power base of the energy industry shows little sign of radical change. While there are a lot of initiatives to try and make European cities more sustainable, a reality of buildings as power stations is a long way off. Solar PV, the most reliable current option to make this happen, is having a tough time. New district heating systems (as opposed to the ones that have built up over decades in some European cities) are more paper-based than real, whilst smart grid is just creating plenty of talking shops. The move away from the internal combustion engine is tentative, to say the least, and the transport sector is likely to be dependent on oil-derived products for decades to come, although if the twin problems of vehicle range and recharging can be resolved effectively, electric vehicles could become popular very quickly. Two sectors to watch are aviation, where a lot of research is going into biofuel replacements, and shipping, which uses a particularly dirty form of oil product and needs to clean up its act. However, none of this feels like the third industrial revolution is just around the corner, although to be fair, Rifkin was aiming for somewhere around 2050.

Is this what the time before a paradigm shift feels like? Before every tipping point there is an age of uncertainty where few, if any, can predict with certainty the timing of change or the new world order that will emerge. Decarbonisation is inevitable – fossil fuels are finite – but the chances of it happening quickly enough to prevent major climate change are looking increasingly slim; so the world is going to have to adapt to the consequences.

In the meantime, European economies will still demand a lot of carbon-based fuel for decades to come. Oil and gas exporting countries with viable reserves probably don’t need to worry just yet. It’s more a question of how countries with hugely valuable but finite reserves should put something aside for their fossil-fuel retirement, as Norway and Qatar appear to be doing so successfully.

Nathan Goode is the Head of Energy, Environment and Sustainability at Grant Thornton UK LLP.

Photograph: Getty Images

Nathan Goode is the Head of Energy, Environment and Sustainability at Grant Thornton UK LLP

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In the 1980s, I went to a rally where Labour Party speakers shared the stage with men in balaclavas

The links between the Labour left and Irish republicanism are worth investigating.

A spat between Jeremy Corbyn’s henchfolk and Conor McGinn, the MP for St Helens North, caught my ear the other evening. McGinn was a guest on BBC Radio 4’s Westminster Hour, and he obligingly revisited the brouhaha for the listeners at home. Apparently, following an interview in May, in which McGinn called for Corbyn to “reach out beyond his comfort zone”, he was first threatened obliquely with the sack, then asked for a retraction (which he refused to give) and finally learned – from someone in the whips’ office – that his party leader was considering phoning up McGinn’s father to whip the errant whipper-in into line. On the programme, McGinn said: “The modus operandi that he [Corbyn] and the people around him were trying to do [sic], involving my family, was to isolate and ostracise me from them and from the community I am very proud to come from – which is an Irish nationalist community in south Armagh.”

Needless to say, the Labour leader’s office has continued to deny any such thing, but while we may nurture some suspicions about his behaviour, McGinn was also indulging in a little airbrushing when he described south Armagh as an “Irish ­nationalist community”. In the most recent elections, Newry and Armagh returned three Sinn Fein members to the Northern Ireland Assembly (as against one Social Democratic and Labour Party member) and one Sinn Fein MP to Westminster. When I last looked, Sinn Fein was still a republican, rather than a nationalist, party – something that McGinn should only be too well aware of, as the paternal hand that was putatively to have been lain on him belongs to Pat McGinn, the former Sinn Fein mayor of Newry and Armagh.

According to the Irish News, a “close friend” of the McGinns poured this cold water on the mini-conflagration: “Anybody who knows the McGinn family knows that Pat is very proud of Conor and that they remain very close.” The friend went on to opine: “He [Pat McGinn] found the whole notion of Corbyn phoning him totally ridiculous – as if Pat is going to criticise his son to save Jeremy Corbyn’s face. They would laugh about it were it not so sinister.”

“Sinister” does seem the mot juste. McGinn, Jr grew up in Bessbrook during the Troubles. I visited the village in the early 1990s on assignment. The skies were full of the chattering of British army Chinooks, and there were fake road signs in the hedgerows bearing pictograms of rifles and captioned: “Sniper at work”. South Armagh had been known for years as “bandit country”. There were army watchtowers standing sentinel in the dinky, green fields and checkpoints everywhere, manned by some of the thousands of the troops who had been deployed to fight what was, in effect, a low-level counter-insurgency war. Nationalist community, my foot.

What lies beneath the Corbyn-McGinn spat is the queered problematics of the ­relationship between the far left wing of the Labour Party and physical-force Irish republicanism. I also recall, during the hunger strikes of the early 1980s, going to a “Smash the H-Blocks” rally in Kilburn, north London, at which Labour Party speakers shared the stage with representatives from Sinn Fein, some of whom wore balaclavas and dark glasses to evade the telephoto lenses of the Met’s anti-terrorist squad.

The shape-shifting relationship between the “political wing” of the IRA and the men with sniper rifles in the south Armagh bocage was always of the essence of the conflict, allowing both sides a convenient fiction around which to posture publicly and privately negotiate. In choosing to appear on platforms with people who might or might not be terrorists, Labour leftists also sprinkled a little of their stardust on themselves: the “stardust” being the implication that they, too, under the right circumstances, might be capable of violence in pursuit of their political ends.

On the far right of British politics, Her Majesty’s Government and its apparatus are referred to derisively as “state”. There were various attempts in the 1970s and 1980s by far-right groupuscules to link up with the Ulster Freedom Fighters and other loyalist paramilitary organisations in their battle against “state”. All foundered on the obvious incompetence of the fascists. The situation on the far left was different. The socialist credentials of Sinn Fein/IRA were too threadbare for genuine expressions of solidarity, but there was a sort of tacit confidence-and-supply arrangement between these factions. The Labour far left provided the republicans with the confidence that, should an appropriately radical government be elected to Westminster, “state” would withdraw from Northern Ireland. What the republicans did for the mainland militants was to cloak them in their penumbra of darkness: without needing to call down on themselves the armed might of “state”, they could imply that they were willing to take it on, should the opportunity arise.

I don’t for a second believe that Corbyn was summoning up these ghosts of the insurrectionary dead when he either did or did not threaten to phone McGinn, Sr. But his supporters need to ask themselves what they’re getting into. Their leader, if he was to have remained true to the positions that he has espoused over many years, should have refused to sit as privy counsellor upon assuming his party office, and refused all the other mummery associated with the monarchical “state”. That he didn’t do so was surely a strategic decision. Such a position would make him utterly unelectable.

The snipers may not be at work in south Armagh just now – but there are rifles out there that could yet be dug up. I wouldn’t be surprised if some in Sinn Fein knew where they are, but one thing’s for certain: Corbyn hasn’t got a clue, bloody or otherwise. 

Will Self is an author and journalist. His books include Umbrella, Shark, The Book of Dave and The Butt. He writes the Madness of Crowds and Real Meals columns for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 25 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Cameron: the legacy of a loser