Renewable energy to save consumers between £25 and £100 billion

A new government report outlines the economic case for renewable energy, writes RenewableUK’s Gordon Edge.

An official report published today on the dangers of failing to invest in renewable energy represents a timely call for the Government to set clear long-term policies to boost the deployment of wind, wave and tidal power. The independent and highly authoritative study makes it clear that hard-pressed British consumers’ bills have shot up due to the UK’s dependence on imports of fossil fuels, and it therefore recommends measures to encourage investment in domestic low-carbon sources to bring the cost of electricity under control.

The official body which advises the Government on this issue, the Committee on Climate Change, says investing in low-carbon technologies between 2020 and 2030, such as wind and marine energy, will save UK consumers at least £25-£45bn over the lifetime of those projects, rising to £100bn if international gas prices continue to escalate.

The Committee says one of the best ways to stimulate investment in renewables is to set a carbon reduction target in the Energy Bill now going through Parliament, specifying a reduction to 10 per cent of 1990 levels by 2030 (from 500 grammes per kilowatt hour to 50g/kWh). MPs are due to vote on this issue in early June.

It also recommends that the Government should specify how much financial support will be available for low-carbon energy between now and 2030 – at present, the long-term vision for the power sector only goes as far as 2020. The report highlights the need to develop a specific strategy for the development of offshore wind, including ways to attract new sources of finance.

This thorough research by the most authoritative body in its field provides compelling evidence that investment in British renewables is cost-effective, whereas an unhealthy addiction to foreign fossil fuels is excruciatingly expensive, as well as being deeply irresponsible. RenewableUK’s own figures show that combined onshore and offshore wind are generating £2.5bn a year for the UK, and as such are one of the single biggest sources of investment into our economy – surely an opportunity we cannot afford to ignore. And with DECC’s own figures showing that 74 per cent of people are concerned about the UK’s reliance on imported fossil fuels, this is an issue the vast majority of the country is united on.

The Committee on Climate Change is also right to highlight the fact that the current lack of a long-term political vision is jeopardising investment in renewable energy projects – including the development of the supply chain which could create tens of thousands of jobs in wind and marine energy, with turbine factories opening around the UK.

Earlier this week the European Parliament voted in favour of setting a binding 2030 renewable energy target, to provide long-term clarity. The UK should be sending out similarly positive signals, so that we can maintain Britain’s global lead in the offshore wind, wave and tidal sectors, as well as maintaining our success in onshore wind which is the most cost effective way to generate large amounts of low carbon electricity to power our homes.

Photograph: CCC

Dr Gordon Edge is RenewableUK’s Director of Policy.

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How Donald Trump is slouching towards the Republican nomination

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb.

In America, you can judge a crowd by its merchandise. Outside the Connecticut Convention Centre in Hartford, frail old men and brawny moms are selling “your Trump 45 football jerseys”, “your hats”, “your campaign buttons”. But the hottest item is a T-shirt bearing the slogan “Hillary sucks . . . but not like Monica!” and, on the back: “Trump that bitch!” Inside, beyond the checkpoint manned by the Transportation Security Administration and the secret service (“Good!” the man next to me says, when he sees the agents), is a family whose three kids, two of them girls, are wearing the Monica shirt.

Other people are content with the shirts they arrived in (“Waterboarding – baptising terrorists with freedom” and “If you don’t BLEED red, white and blue, take your bitch ass home!”). There are 80 chairs penned off for the elderly but everyone else is standing: guys in motorcycle and military gear, their arms folded; aspiring deal-makers, suited, on cellphones; giggling high-school fatsos, dressed fresh from the couch, grabbing M&M’s and Doritos from the movie-theatre-style concession stands. So many baseball hats; deep, bellicose chants of “Build the wall!” and “USA!”. (And, to the same rhythm, “Don-ald J!”)

A grizzled man in camouflage pants and combat boots, whose T-shirt – “Connecticut Militia III%” – confirms him as a member of the “patriot” movement, is talking to a zealous young girl in a short skirt, who came in dancing to “Uptown Girl”.

“Yeah, we were there for Operation American Spring,” he says. “Louis Farrakhan’s rally of hate . . .”

“And you’re a veteran?” she asks. “Thank you so much!”

Three hours will pass. A retired US marine will take the rostrum to growl, “God bless America – hoo-rah!”; “Uptown Girl” will play many more times (much like his speeches, Donald J’s playlist consists of a few items, repeated endlessly), before Trump finally looms in and asks the crowd: “Is this the greatest place on Earth?”

There was supposed to be a ceiling above which Trump’s popular support could not climb. Only a minority within a minority of Americans, it was assumed, could possibly be stupid enough to think a Trump presidency was a good idea. He won New Hampshire and South Carolina with over 30 per cent of the Republican vote, then took almost 46 per cent in Nevada. When he cleaned up on Super Tuesday in March, he was just shy of 50 per cent in Massachusetts; a week later, he took 47 per cent of the votes in Mississippi.

His rivals, who are useless individually, were meant to co-operate with each other and the national party to deny him the nomination. But Trump won four out of the five key states being contested on “Super-Duper Tuesday” on 15 March. Then, as talk turned to persuading and co-opting his delegates behind the scenes, Trump won New York with 60 per cent.

Now, the campaign is trying to present Trump as more “presidential”. According to his new manager, Paul Manafort, this requires him to appear in “more formal settings” – without, of course, diluting “the unique magic of Trump”. But whether or not he can resist denouncing the GOP and the “corrupt” primary system, and alluding to violence if he is baulked at at the convention, the new Trump will be much the same as the old.

Back in Hartford: “The Republicans wanna play cute with us, right? If I don’t make it, you’re gonna have millions of people that don’t vote for a Republican. They’re not gonna vote at all,” says Trump. “Hopefully that’s all, OK? Hopefully that’s all, but they’re very, very angry.”

This anger, which can supposedly be turned on anyone who gets in the way, has mainly been vented, so far, on the protesters who disrupt Trump’s rallies. “We’re not gonna be the dummies that lose all of our jobs now. We’re gonna be the smart ones. Oh, do you have one over there? There’s one of the dummies . . .”

There is a frenzied fluttering of Trump placards, off to his right. “Get ’em out! . . . Don’t hurt ’em – see how nice I am? . . . They really impede freedom of speech and it’s a disgrace. But the good news is, folks, it won’t be long. We’re just not taking it and it won’t be long.”

It is their removal by police, at Trump’s ostentatious behest, that causes the disruption, rather than the scarcely audible protesters. He seems to realise this, suddenly: “We should just let ’em . . . I’ll talk right over them, there’s no problem!” But it’s impossible to leave the protesters where they are, because it would not be safe. His crowd is too vicious.

Exit Trump, after exactly half an hour, inclusive of the many interruptions. His people seem uplifted but, out on the street, they are ambushed by a large counter-demonstration, with a booming drum and warlike banners and standards (“Black Lives Matter”; an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, holding aloft Trump’s severed head). Here is the rest of the world, the real American world: young people, beautiful people, more female than male, every shade of skin colour. “F*** Donald Trump!” they chant.

After a horrified split-second, the Trump crowd, massively more numerous, rallies with “USA!” and – perplexingly, since one of the main themes of the speech it has just heard was the lack of jobs in Connecticut – “Get a job!” The two sides then mingle, unobstructed by police. Slanging matches break out that seem in every instance to humiliate the Trump supporter. “Go to college!” one demands. “Man, I am in college, I’m doin’ lovely!”

There is no violence, only this: some black boys are dancing, with liquid moves, to the sound of the drum. Four young Trump guys counter by stripping to their waists and jouncing around madly, their skin greenish-yellow under the street lights, screaming about the building of the wall. There was no alcohol inside; they’re drunk on whatever it is – the elixir of fascism, the unique magic of Trump. It’s a hyper but not at all happy drunk.

As with every other moment of the Trump campaign so far, it would have been merely some grade of the cringeworthy – the embarrassing, the revolting, the pitiful – were Trump not slouching closer and closer, with each of these moments, to his nomination. 

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