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What would a Labour-SNP deal mean for energy policy?

If the SNP do hold the balance of power, it will be energy policy where it has the biggest consequences.

Tucked away in the innards of the Scottish National Party’s General Election manifesto are a few phrases about energy and climate change policy that might turn out to have profound implications for both Scotland and the rest of the UK.

“The additional investment we seek should include investment in our energy infrastructure so we can continue to maximise renewables generation, in particular offshore” is one.

“We will support lower energy bills for consumers by pushing for the Energy Company Obligation to be funded through general taxation and not as a levy on energy bills” is another.

Perhaps the most profound is “We will use our influence at Westminster to ensure the UK matches, and supports, Scotland’s ambitious commitments to carbon reduction.” 

The potential significance of these phrases will only come to be realised firstly if the election results in a Miliband premiership supported by the SNP, and secondly if the SNP seriously follows through on these components of the manifesto.

If it does, we will end up in 2020 with a UK profoundly transformed – where energy efficiency is improved in both domestic and industrial applications, and where the march to an electricity network based on renewable energy is re-invigorated rather than stalled.

 

Logic for change

 

To understand why the SNP has put these strands in its manifesto and how they might play out, we need a little context.

Pre-referendum, the SNP’s main pitch relating to energy was that an independent Scotland could base its future economy on North Sea oil and gas.

The economics looked dodgy even then. But given the recent slump in the international price of oil and gas – and given indications that the price might fall much lower still if Iran returns to the international fold – this strategy increasingly looks akin to putting your life savings on a hobbled skewbald in the 3.35 at Musselburgh.

Amid all the rumpus surrounding North Sea oil and gas, fracking and wind farms, it’s easy to miss the really profound fact that in the electricity system, Scotland is already nearly a fossil fuel-free nation.

The only significant coal-fired power station, at Longannet, is due to close next year. That will leave just one major gas-fired station, at Peterhead – sustained by a National Grid contract to supply backup power – and a few much smaller coal and gas stations in remoter locations. 

It is equally clear that no new nuclear reactors will be countenanced north of the border.

Which leaves renewables as by far the dominant supplier of electricity. 

They already providing nearly half of Scotland’s power, and are set to generate 100% of consumption by 2020 or shortly thereafter. Beyond that, adding more renewables means being able to sell more and more electricity to the Sassenachs – which looks a far more reliable source of revenue right now than oil and gas.

But current policies would slow renewables progress in the next couple of years. Electricity market reform has reduced funding from Westminster, and prevented Holyrood from offering top-up subsidies. And on support beyond 2020, investors are offered nary a clue.

Hence the SNP manifesto pledge to seek “additional investment” that will enable Scotland to “continue to maximise renewables generation”. Plus, of course,maximising renewables companies, jobs and supply chain.

 

Efficient transformation

 

Cutting energy waste should obviously be the first move in any programme to reduce emissions – not least because it also reduces bills and improves energy security.  

But you wouldn’t guess that from looking at policies enacted by the Coalition. The Green Deal has been, according to its former champion Greg Barker, a “big mistake”. And the Committee on Climate Change, the government’s statutory advisor, says euphemistically that progress in the commercial sector has been “limited”.

Improving energy efficiency by insulating homes also reduces fuel poverty, which is about four times more prevalent in Scotland than in the UK as a whole.

So for the SNP, accelerating energy efficiency improvements has a political appeal in addition to being achievable policy.

There are many ways it could be done. Labour is pledging a major initiative that could improve five million homes – and the SNP’s idea of funding the ECO scheme, which helps some of the poorest households, from taxation rather than energy bills seems entirely congruent.

 

Climate of ambition

 

The most eye-catching – and least anticipated – of the SNP’s pledges is to put the UK’s carbon reduction commitments on a par with Scotland’s.

In the long run, there’s no difference between them; but in the short-term, the difference is profound. Rather than cutting carbon emissions by 34% from 1990 levels by 2020, the UK would adopt the current Scottish target of 42%.

Securing this as a new target during 2015 would deliver a huge boost to prospects of securing a global climate change agreement at December’s summit in Paris, nudging the UK ahead of Germany in carbon-cutting commitments and single-handedly delivering a golden British dollop of unanticipated ambition to the UN negotiations.

However, meeting it would require a step-change in commitment to decarbonisation programmes in many sectors, not just energy. And it would require delivery in just a single Parliamentary term.

Which is why it is the most profound of these three SNP asks – and the one at which Labour would be most likely to baulk.

The electoral dice have of course yet to roll, and Nicola Sturgeon’s troops may end up holding no more power than the Pirate Party. 

But if they do, and if they are serious about this agenda, the UK is set for a major transformation – and Labour for some hard questions.

 

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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