After the energy shambles, Cameron needs to restore certainty

The timing of this week’s confusion could not have been worse.

The last three days have seen government policy on energy tariffs and decarbonisation in flux. Conflicting statements from the Prime Minister, the Energy Secretary and the new energy minister have caused confusion. While an announcement from Ofgem today has helped provide clarity, confidence in the government has already been undermined. With a group of major energy companies already threatening to withdraw hundreds of millions of pounds of planned new investment in the UK due to policy uncertainty, this week's events will only make matters worse.

At Prime Minster’s Questions on Wednesday, Cameron said, “I can announce that we will be legislating so that energy companies have to give the lowest tariff to their customers”. The sector was shocked and confused. Not only would this be incredibly difficult to implement, it would also mark the single greatest act of intervention in the energy retail market since liberalisation – not the type of light touch regulation to be expected from a Conservative Prime Minister.

Today, thanks to the release of Ofgem’s Retail Market Review, it has become clear what the Prime Minister should have said. He should have announced that suppliers will be required to tell customers if there is a cheaper tariff, rather than automatically putting customers on the cheapest tariff.

One of Ofgem’s better proposals in the review is for suppliers to only be able to offer four tariffs for each fuel type. This policy was recommended by IPPR in our recent investigation of the retail energy market. This reform will simplify the market and encourage people to switch thereby improving competition, which will help keep bills low.

It should also help to ensure that tariffs are reflective of suppliers’ costs — a major problem since ‘loss leading’ tariffs act as a barrier for new suppliers to enter in to the market and vulnerable and low income people who don’t switch regularly can often be overcharged.

The timing of this week’s confusion could not have been worse. It is only three weeks since Ofgem announced that the spare electricity generation capacity in Britain will fall to a critically low level in 2015/16, raising the prospect of blackouts. With Twitter quick to dub this episode a "combishambles", the government needs to restore certainty and predictably before they publish their upcoming Energy Bill.

Reg Platt is Research Fellow at IPPR. He tweets as @regplatt.

David Cameron speaks with Maltese Prime Minister Lawrence Gonzi at the start of the second day of an EU summit in Brussels. Photograph: Getty Images.

Reg Platt is a Research Fellow at IPPR. He tweets as @regplatt.

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A swimming pool and a bleeding toe put my medical competency in doubt

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Sometimes the search engine wins. 

The brutal heatwave affecting southern Europe this summer has become known among locals as “Lucifer”. Having just returned from Italy, I fully understand the nickname. An early excursion caused the beginnings of sunstroke, so we abandoned plans to explore the cultural heritage of the Amalfi region and strayed no further than five metres from the hotel pool for the rest of the week.

The children were delighted, particularly my 12-year-old stepdaughter, Gracie, who proceeded to spend hours at a time playing in the water. Towelling herself after one long session, she noticed something odd.

“What’s happened there?” she asked, holding her foot aloft in front of my face.

I inspected the proffered appendage: on the underside of her big toe was an oblong area of glistening red flesh that looked like a chunk of raw steak.

“Did you injure it?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

I shrugged and said she must have grazed it. She wasn’t convinced, pointing out that she would remember if she had done that. She has great faith in plasters, though, and once it was dressed she forgot all about it. I dismissed it, too, assuming it was one of those things.

By the end of the next day, the pulp on the underside of all of her toes looked the same. As the doctor in the family, I felt under some pressure to come up with an explanation. I made up something about burns from the hot paving slabs around the pool. Gracie didn’t say as much, but her look suggested a dawning scepticism over my claims to hold a medical degree.

The next day, Gracie and her new-found holiday playmate, Eve, abruptly terminated a marathon piggy-in-the-middle session in the pool with Eve’s dad. “Our feet are bleeding,” they announced, somewhat incredulously. Sure enough, bright-red blood was flowing, apparently painlessly, from the bottoms of their big toes.

Doctors are used to contending with Google. Often, what patients discover on the internet causes them undue alarm, and our role is to provide context and reassurance. But not infrequently, people come across information that outstrips our knowledge. On my return from our room with fresh supplies of plasters, my wife looked up from her sun lounger with an air of quiet amusement.

“It’s called ‘pool toe’,” she said, handing me her iPhone. The page she had tracked down described the girls’ situation exactly: friction burns, most commonly seen in children, caused by repetitive hopping about on the abrasive floors of swimming pools. Doctors practising in hot countries must see it all the time. I doubt it presents often to British GPs.

I remained puzzled about the lack of pain. The injuries looked bad, but neither Gracie nor Eve was particularly bothered. Here the internet drew a blank, but I suspect it has to do with the “pruning” of our skin that we’re all familiar with after a soak in the bath. This only occurs over the pulps of our fingers and toes. It was once thought to be caused by water diffusing into skin cells, making them swell, but the truth is far more fascinating.

The wrinkling is an active process, triggered by immersion, in which the blood supply to the pulp regions is switched off, causing the skin there to shrink and pucker. This creates the biological equivalent of tyre treads on our fingers and toes and markedly improves our grip – of great evolutionary advantage when grasping slippery fish in a river, or if trying to maintain balance on slick wet rocks.

The flip side of this is much greater friction, leading to abrasion of the skin through repeated micro-trauma. And the lack of blood flow causes nerves to shut down, depriving us of the pain that would otherwise alert us to the ongoing tissue damage. An adaptation that helped our ancestors hunt in rivers proves considerably less use on a modern summer holiday.

I may not have seen much of the local heritage, but the trip to Italy taught me something new all the same. 

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