Talk is cheap: why the gap between rhetoric and reality in the coalition’s infrastructure policy matters

Ministers should not be under any illusion that public spending on high carbon projects offers a quick economic fix.

Amid all the headlines about the biggest programme of road building for 40 years and announcements of new support for fracking, you would be forgiven for thinking that the recent Comprehensive Spending Review meant an abandonment of plans to decarbonise Britain’s economy. Thankfully, that’s not what our analysis of the Treasury’s own numbers shows as the plans for upgrading Britain’s infrastructure still remain focussed on public transport and renewable energy. However, there are major contradictions at the heart of the government’s policy, which risk deterring the very private sector investors who are needed to implement many of these projects.

There is a marked contrast between the government’s approaches to its fiscal and environmental responsibilities. They happen to be compatible principles but they need to be seen in perspective. Our children will care more about the state of the physical world they will occupy as adults than whether they inherit government debt of 80 rather than 90 per cent of GDP. Yet the government appears to focus all its visible efforts on the fiscal front, like a first world war general celebrating every tiny advance, irrespective of the huge sacrifices made. Meanwhile, on the environmental front, quiet progress has been made with decarbonising our energy system in recent years. Further huge strides can be made by pressing ahead with long standing plans for renewables and public transport.

There is also a contradiction in the promotion of private rather than public sector activities. When it comes to jobs, the government champions the ability of Britain’s private sector to create new jobs to offset those lost in the public sector and trusts in its ability to carry on doing this. Yet when it comes to infrastructure, it celebrates public spending on roads planned for the next parliament more than ongoing private investment in renewable energy.

The disconnection between rhetoric and reality can be seen clearly when you look at the plans for both public and private investment. The Comprehensive Spending Review heralded £20bn of public money for roads between 2015-2020, yet that is only about half of the planned spending on the railways of £38bn. The contrast for private sector investments in energy is even more striking. According to data gathered by the Treasury for its infrastructure pipeline, there are plans for around £10bn of gas related projects between 2015-2020. By contrast, there are plans for four times this investment in offshore wind, which could see an injection of £39bn by the private sector.

Some might think it doesn’t matter what politicians say, as long as the right plans are in place, but this overlooks the role of political leadership in shaping private sector expectations. As most of our low-carbon infrastructure will be delivered by the private sector, investor confidence is vital if these projects are to go ahead. However, confidence in the UK’s low carbon direction has fallen dramatically because of the perception that the coalition is divided on decarbonisation. As a result, investors have been delaying financial decisions, or expecting higher returns on their investments to cover risks. Indeed, the 50 per cent fall in new orders for infrastructure in the first quarter of this year serves as an early warning of the danger that the ambitious plans might not come to fruition.

This uncertainty is unnecessary and damaging. It comes at a time when Britain desperately needs sustained economic growth, supported by productive infrastructure that helps to rebalance the economy away from consumption.  This is the only way the government will be able to make good on its promise to restore the public finances.  The sheer scale of existing plans for low carbon infrastructure projects, means that they offer the fastest route to boosting growth. Conversely, cancelling these projects would leave a major hole in our investment plans and risk knocking us back into recession.

Some ministers have a tendency talk up high carbon infrastructure, perhaps hoping to protect themselves against criticism from climate sceptics or other opponents of renewable energy policy. But they should not be under any illusion that public spending on high carbon projects offers a quick economic fix. The government’s own numbers show the opposite as the majority of the UK’s infrastructure activity is clean and low carbon. Boasting about spending public money on roads, whilst sounding lukewarm on private investment in renewables, endangers both our economic recovery and our low-carbon future.

Julian Morgan is the chief economist for Green Alliance

George Osborne. Photograph: Getty Images
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Brexit confusion is scuppering my show – what next?

My week, from spinning records with Baconface, Brexit block and visiting comedy graves.

I am a stand-up comedian, and I am in the process of previewing a new live show, which I hope to tour until early 2018. It was supposed to be about how the digital, free-market society is reshaping the idea of the individual, but we are in the pre-Brexit events whirlpool, and there has never been a worse time to try to assemble a show that will still mean anything in 18 months’ time.



A joke written six weeks ago about dep­orting eastern Europeans, intended to be an exaggeration for comic effect, suddenly just reads like an Amber Rudd speech – or, as James O’Brien pointed out on LBC, an extract from Mein Kampf.

A rude riff on Sarah Vine and 2 Girls 1 Cup runs aground because there are fewer people now who remember Vine than recall the briefly notorious Brazilian video clip. I realise that something that gets a cheer on a Tuesday in Harrogate, or Glasgow, or Oxford, could get me lynched the next night in Lincoln. Perhaps I’ll go into the fruit-picking business. I hear there’s about to be some vacancies.



I sit and stare at blocks of text, wondering how to knit them into a homogeneous whole. But it’s Sunday afternoon, a time for supervising homework and finding sports kit. My 11-year-old daughter has a school project on the Victorians and she has decided to do it on dead 19th-century comedians, as we had recently been on a Music Hall Guild tour of their graves at the local cemetery. I wonder if, secretly, she wished I would join them.

I have found living with the background noise of this project depressing. The headstones that she photographed show that most of the performers – even the well-known Champagne Charlie – barely made it past 40, while the owners of the halls outlived them. Herbert Campbell’s obelisk is vast and has the word “comedian” written on it in gold leaf, but it’s in the bushes and he is no longer remembered. Neither are many of the acts I loved in the 1980s – Johnny Immaterial, Paul Ramone, the Iceman.



I would have liked to do some more work on the live show but, one Monday a month, I go to the studios of the largely volunteer-run arts radio station Resonance FM in Borough, south London. Each Wednesday night at 11pm, the masked Canadian stand-up comedian Baconface presents selections from his late brother’s collection of 1950s, 1960s and 1970s jazz, psychedelia, folk, blues and experimental music. I go in to help him pre-record the programmes.

Baconface is a fascinating character, whom I first met at the Cantaloupes Comedy Club in Kamloops in British Columbia in 1994. He sees the radio show as an attempt to atone for his part in his brother’s death, which was the result of a prank gone wrong involving nudity and bacon, though he is often unable to conceal his contempt for the music that he is compelled to play.

The show is recorded in a small, hot room and Baconface doesn’t change the bacon that his mask is made of very often, so the experience can be quite claustrophobic. Whenever we lose tapes or the old vinyl is too warped to play, he just sits back and utters his resigned, philosophical catchphrase, “It’s all bacon!” – which I now find myself using, as I watch the news, with ­depressing regularity.



After the kids go to sleep, I sit up alone and finally watch The Lady in the Van. Last year, I walked along the street in Camden where it was being filmed, and Alan Bennett talked to me, which was amazing.

About a month later, on the same street, we saw Jonathan Miller skirting some dog’s mess and he told me and the kids how annoyed it made him. I tried to explain to them afterwards who Jonathan Miller was, but to the five-year-old the satire pioneer will always be the Shouting Dog’s Mess Man.



I have the second of the final three preview shows at the intimate Leicester Square Theatre in London before the new show, Content Provider, does a week in big rooms around the country. Today, I was supposed to do a BBC Radio 3 show about improvised music but both of the kids were off school with a bug and I had to stay home mopping up. In between the vomiting, in the psychic shadow of the improvisers, I had something of a breakthrough. The guitarist Derek Bailey, for example, would embrace his problems and make them part of the performance.



I drank half a bottle of wine before going on stage, to give me the guts to take some risks. It’s not a long-term strategy for creative problem-solving, and that way lies wandering around Southend with a pet chicken. But by binning the words that I’d written and trying to repoint them, in the moment, to be about how the Brexit confusion is blocking my route to the show I wanted to write, I can suddenly see a way forward. The designer is in, with samples of a nice coat that she is making for me, intended to replicate the clothing of the central figure in Caspar David Friedrich’s 1818 German masterpiece Wanderer Above a Sea of Fog.



Richard Branson is on the internet and, just as I’d problem-solved my way around writing about it, he’s suggesting that Brexit might not happen. I drop the kids off and sit in a café reading Alan Moore’s new novel, Jerusalem. I am interviewing him about it for the Guardian in two weeks’ time. It’s 1,174 pages long, but what with the show falling apart I have read only 293 pages. Next week is half-term. I’ll nail it. It’s great, by the way, and seems to be about the small lives of undocumented individuals, buffeted by the random events of their times.

Stewart Lee’s show “Content Provider” will be on in London from 8 November. For more details, visit:

This article first appeared in the 27 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, American Rage