EU cap-and-trade system left to die by EU parliament

The ETS is dead, long live climate change.

The European Union has voted not to limit the supply of carbon permits, in a move that's widely thought to have dealt "a near-mortal blow" to the EU's Emissions Trading Scheme, according to Alphaville's Kate Mackenzie.

The ETS is supposed to limit the amount of greenhouse gases pumped into the atmosphere, by requiring permits to pollute. The idea was that companies who needed to release greenhouse gases would have to buy the right to do so from companies which had managed to cut their emissions, and a market-based solution to climate change would be found.

Unfortunately, the way the permits were allocated was to give them to companies based on their emissions in year zero, and then only increase the quantity by a little bit each year, limiting growth in emissions. Unfortunately, the global financial crisis came along and did that for us: output fell, and with it, so did emissions. But the number of permits available kept increasing, and now the EU faces a situation where they are basically worthless.

The initial sticking-plaster solution was to "backload" the permits, delaying the scheduled releases by a few years, in order to bring supply back down to a level where it would start constraining carbon emissions again. But on Wednesday evening, the EU parliament voted against the backloading, sending prices tumbling:

Iza Kaminska draws parallels with the Bitcoin crash:

All in all this is yet another valuable lesson in what happens when you make asset classes out of nothing. Unlike with Bitcoin, the cyber-spawned crypto-currency based on nothing but black market interests, the lesson here is not the fact that there is no authoritative mandate, mutual interest or even value — but rather that there is no central authority on standby to flexibly adjust and regulate supply.

But looking at the ETS in terms of its efficiency as a market is somewhat missing the point. The aim, after all, isn't to provide a stable investment vehicle or create an asset class for the sake of it – it's to reduce carbon emissions. The problem is that political constraints were never going to allow the EU to make a carbon market which would actually have a chance of doing that.

The IEA reports that a carbon price of €50 a tonne – ten times the price of an ETS permit at its peak yesterday – is needed just to encourage a switch in the short term from coal to gas generation. The price – and stability of price – required to encourage investment in completely carbon-free generation is likely to be higher still (although renewables advocates disagree). In that context, whether the ETS permits are trading at €3 or €5 is almost irrelevant. Neither price will have anywhere near the required effect.

In that context, maybe the damage done to the ETS is a good thing. Now that it's fairly conclusively demonstrated to be doing nothing to cap emissions, the EU could start getting moving on a genuine market based solution to climate change – a carbon tax, or a cap-and-trade program which actually pays attention to the "cap" part. Either way, it's going to be a while yet.

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Charlottesville: a town haunted by the far right

Locals fear a bitter far right will return.

On 12 August, a car ploughed down pedestrians in the street where I used to buy my pecan pies. I had recently returned to London from Charlottesville, Virginia – the scene of what appears to have been an act of white supremacist terrorism – having worked and taught at the university there for four years. While I unpacked boxes of books, the streets I knew so well were full of hate and fire.

The horror began on the evening of Friday 11 August, when thugs with torches marched across the “Lawn”. Running through the heart of the university, this is where, each Halloween, children don ghoulish costumes and trick-or-treat delighted and generous fourth-year undergraduates.

But there were true monsters there that night. They took their stand on the steps of the neoclassical Rotunda – the site of graduation – to face down a congregation about to spill out of St Paul’s Episcopal opposite.

Then, on Saturday morning, a teeming mass of different groups gathered in Emancipation Park (formerly Lee Park), where my toddler ran through splash pads in the summer.

We knew it was coming. Some of the groups were at previous events in Charlottesville’s “summer of hate”. Ever since a permit was granted for the “Unite the Right” march, we feared that this would be a tipping point. I am unsure whether I should have been there, or whether I was wise to stay away.

The truth is that this had nothing to do with Charlottesville – and everything to do with it. From one perspective, our small, sleepy university town near the Blue Ridge Mountains was the victim of a showdown between out-of-towners. The fighting was largely not between local neo-Nazis and African Americans, or their white neighbours, for that matter. It was between neo-Nazis from far afield – James Alex Fields, Jr, accused of being the driver of the lethal Dodge Challenger, was born in Kentucky and lives in Ohio – and outside groups such as “Antifa” (anti-fascist). It was a foreign culture that was foisted upon the city.

Charlottesville is to the American east coast what Berkeley is to the west: a bastion of liberalism and political correctness, supportive of the kind of social change that the alt-right despises. Just off camera in the national newsfeeds was a banner hung from the public  library at the entrance of Emancipation Park, reading: “Proud of diversity”.

I heard more snippets of information as events unfolded. The counter-protesters began the day by drawing on the strength of the black church. A 6am prayer meeting at our local church, First Baptist on Main (the only church in Charlottesville where all races worshipped together before the Civil War), set the tone for the non-violent opposition.

The preacher told the congregation: “We can’t hate these brothers. They have a twisted ideology and they are deeply mistaken in their claim to follow Christ, but they are still our brothers.” Then he introduced the hymns. “The resistance of black people to oppression has only been kept alive through music.”

The congregation exited on to Main Street, opposite my old butcher JM Stock Provisions, and walked down to the statue of Meriwether Lewis and William Clark – the early 19th-century Bear Grylls types who explored the west. They went past Feast! – the delicacy market where we used to spend our Saturday mornings – and on to the dreamy downtown mall where my wife and I strolled on summer evenings and ate southern-fried chicken at the Whiskey Jar.

The permit for the “protest” was noon to 5pm but violence erupted earlier. Between 10.30am and 12pm, the white supremacists, protected by a paramilitary guard, attacked their opponents. As the skirmishes intensified, police were forced to encircle the clashing groups and created, in effect, a bizarre zone of “acceptable” violence. Until the governor declared a state of emergency, grown men threw bottles of piss at each other.

At noon, the crowd was dispersed and the protesters spilled out into the side streets. This was when the riot climaxed with the horrific death of the 32-year-old Heather Heyer. Throughout Saturday afternoon and evening, the far-right groups marauded the suburbs while residents locked their doors and closed their blinds.

I sat in London late into the night as information and prayer requests trickled through. “There are roughly 1,000 Nazis/KKK/alt-right/southern nationalists still around – in a city of 50,000 residents. If you’re the praying type, keep it up.”

No one in Charlottesville is in any doubt as to how this atrocity became possible. Donald Trump has brought these sects to group consciousness. They have risen above their infighting to articulate a common ground, transcending the bickering that mercifully held them back in the past.

In the immediate aftermath, there is clarity as well as fury. My colleague Charles Mathewes, a theologian and historian, remarked: “I still cannot believe we have to fight Nazis – real, actual, swastika-flag-waving, be-uniformed, gun-toting Nazis, along with armed, explicit racists, white supremacists and KKK members. I mean, was the 20th century simply forgotten?”

There is also a sense of foreboding, because the overwhelming feeling with which the enemy left was not triumph but bitterness. Their permit had been to protest from noon to 5pm. They terrorised a town with their chants of “Blood and soil!” but their free speech was apparently not heard. Their safe space, they claim, was not protected.

The next day, the organiser of the march, Jason Kessler, held a press conference to air his grievances. The fear is that the indignant white supremacists will be back in greater force to press their rights.

If that happens, there is one certainty. At one point during the dawn service at First Baptist, a black woman took the stand. “Our people have been oppressed for 400 years,” she said. “What we have learned is that the only weapon which wins the war is love.”

This article first appeared in the 17 August 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump goes nuclear