So we'll be bailing out the big energy companies if they crash: how likely is it anyway?

Keeping the flame alive.

As part of a team building exercise in my previous workplace, I once tried tight rope walking. Just to make the experience more exciting, I decided to do the dead-fall – something I had mastered at theatre workshops while in university – knowing there was a safety net below to catch me.

Had it not been for that safety net, I would have never tight rope walked in the first place – leave alone try the crowd pleasing antic. But my risky decision didn’t harm me or anyone around me.

Under a revised plan drawn up by the Government to avoid “market chaos”, UK consumers may be on the hook for a £4bn safety net if any of the six leading energy suppliers see a downfall.

Energy secretary Ed Davey is looking at a quick intervention with “adequate protection” if any of the ‘Big Six’ go out of business. Fair enough, but is it?

In a capitalist society such as the one we live in today, is it morally correct to ensure a safety net for corporates – such as big energy companies – to take risky decisions that could negatively affect millions in the UK market?

If the government is worried about any of these companies going out of business, the one thing it should not do is make it clear that it would be bailed out in case it does crash – providing the company with almost an incentive not to work towards keeping itself afloat.

The Big Six in the UK energy sector refer to German-owned E.On, Npower with its German parent company (RWE), France’s EDF, British Gas, Scottish and Southern Energy (SSE) and Scottish Power.

Competition is imperative to a company performing well. A safety net only reduces the need or will to compete.

A big energy company crashing would be unlike the crash of the banking sector where the crisis risked consumers losing their lives’ savings and government bail outs were imperative.

If a big energy company does go bust, the way it would affect a regular householder would be to find a new energy supplier. Would it be any more complicated than that? Why not let the private sector undertake the rescue?

Half of the Big Six are foreign owned companies, and it could perhaps make sense to draw up plans for the government to separate UK subsidiaries from foreign parents.

However, what are the chances of a big energy company on the whole going under in the first place? Highly unlikely – as Ed Davey himself accepts. Could this be anything more than a threat of nationalisation?

In January this year, a new survey by uSwitch found significant differences between satisfaction in the UK with smaller energy suppliers and the ‘Big Six’. EDF and Npower ranked at the bottom of the survey while Good Energy, the UK’s only 100 per cent renewable energy company, owned top spot.

Of the "Big Six", only two – E.ON and SSE – came in the top ten, sharing ninth place, whereas British Gas and ScottishPower came joint 11th.

Is it really justified, then, that consumers collectively face higher costs and pay up to almost £4bn to save any of the "Big Six" crashing when the satisfaction levels may not be up to mark?

Some may argue it will be better if the costs of the bail out came out of the profits of the energy firms instead of heightening the prices for householders. But ultimately it would amount to the same thing.

Albert Camus said all that he knew about morality and obligations he owed to football. Taking his cue, one thing we do know about the rules of any game is winning –not losing – should be rewarded. By that respect, the Big Six should fight to keep their heads up in stormy times instead of looking for that parachute they know the government is already making for them. And an expensive one at that.  

Photograph: Getty Images

Meghna Mukerjee is a reporter at Retail Banker International

Getty
Show Hide image

Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times