The chorus from business is now deafening: "give us certainty on energy policy and low carbon investment"

Businesses need to know what will happen in the future, writes RenewablesUK's Maf Smith. A government in turmoil can't provide that.

Government traditionally likes to avoid picking winners. Individual businesses are rightly in competition with each other. This creative tension is what drives our economic success. Such disagreements are why government traditionally goes to great lengths to avoid second guessing the market. 

However, there are some areas of the economy, like our energy infrastructure, where government has to stay at the table. Today, most politicians will agree that there are market failures in our energy system, and government needs to play a role to solve our so called “energy trilemma”: making sure that the lights stay on, ensuring we have secure sources of energy available, while also cutting greenhouse gas emissions. 

But even though government accepts it has a role, it cannot seem to agree on what needs to be done. It’s said that if you ask four different economists about the economy you will get at least five opinions. Right now the same seems to apply when asking UK Government Ministers their view on energy policy. The "Quad" of ministers is still debating the issue in the final run-up to the much anticipated Energy Bill. Meanwhile, the industry is reeling from a public disagreement between the Energy Minister John Hayes and Energy Secretary Edward Davey on the future of onshore wind in the UK. This was followed by the revelation that the Conservative MP Chris Heaton-Harris supported an anti-wind campaigner in the Corby by-election when he was supposed to be running the campaign for the official Tory candidate instead. To those of us getting used to the vagaries of political point-scoring in the Coalition, these spats may look like just part and parcel of day to day coalition Government. However, to the investment community (and especially the increasing number of foreign companies looking to invest for the long term in the UK’s supply chain) they can be unsettling.  

That is because, outside of Whitehall, in business, something interesting is happening. As government goes through the final negotiations before publishing the Bill, business opinion is settling on a shared viewpoint. 

Last week, the British Chambers of Commerce published a survey of 3,500 member companies. 90 per cent of them want the Government to ensure that the UK has a diverse energy mix, capable of avoiding future supply problems, and that the UK “must not find itself in a situation where it becomes more dependent on fossil fuels from overseas or on one technology at home”. 

In the same week as the BCC’s intervention, business leaders from prestigious organisations including Unilever, Kingfisher, EDF Energy, Doosan Power Systems, Heathrow Airport, Philips, Anglian Water and Johnson Matthey jointly wrote to the Prime Minister, expressing their concern that "the on-going divergence of views at the heart of government on the future of this sector…is paralysing investment and undermining the UK’s growth prospects". There have been similar letters and statements from companies as diverse as PepsiCo, Aviva, BT and Marks & Spencer. And recently seven of the world’s top energy companies – who employ 17,500 people in the UK alone – wrote to the Chancellor warning of political risk in current energy policy. 

Added to all this is RenewableUK’s own recent membership survey, in which almost two thirds of companies from the wind and marine renewables sector stated that policy was less favourable to the sector than 18 months ago. Despite this, 90 per cent of those organisations still expect to see growth over the next 18 months, showing the immense opportunity that clearer direction from government could unlock, as well as the furthering of the commitment that over 130 wind energy companies made to Britain via the Wind Energy Charter in May this year. 

For example, investment in offshore wind alone rose by 60 per cent last year. By 2020, the wind, wave and tidal energy industries alone are set to employ more than 88,000 people, from apprentices to highly-skilled engineers. That’s the scale of the prize on offer – as long as the all-important policy framework is right. 

The case being put forward by businesses, who are ready to make once in a generation investments into our economy, is based upon evidence and global trends. But we run the risk that these investments could be delayed. 

They hinge on the agreement of the UK Government’s Ministerial "Quad" – Cameron, Clegg, Osborne and Alexander – who are apparently set to meet to discuss energy policy. Over the autumn, business opinion has got firmly behind the view that our electricity sector needs to decarbonise. Such a shift will protect us against future price rises, open up investment in new technology and manufacturing, and support a new cornerstone of our economy – the green economy – which alone has delivered a third of the UK’s total growth in the last year. Sometimes business opinion settles on a realisation that future prosperity lies in a particular direction. Sometimes it is important that Government can agree that too, that’s why this Energy Bill is crucial for the sector.

Workers build an onshore wind turbine. Photograph: RenewableUK

Maf Smith is the Deputy Chief Executive of RenewableUK, the professional body for the UK’s wind and marine sectors, with 675 member businesses.

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Love a good box set? Then you should watch the Snooker World Championships

The game relies on a steady arm, which relies on a steady nerve. The result is a slow creeping tension needs time and space to be properly enjoyed and endured. 

People are lazy and people are impatient. This has always been so – just ask Moses or his rock – but as illustrated by kindly old Yahweh, in those days they could not simply answer those impulses and stroll on.

Nowadays, that is no longer so. Twitter, YouTube and listicles reflect a desire for complex and involved issues, expansive and nuanced sports – what we might term quality – to be condensed into easily digestible morsels for effort-free enjoyment.

There is, though, one notable exception to this trend: the box set. Pursuing a novelistic, literary sensibility, it credits its audience with the power of sentience and tells riveting stories slowly, unfolding things in whichever manner that it is best for them to unfold.

In the first episode of the first series of The Sopranos, we hear Tony demean his wife Carmela's irritation with him via the phrase “always with the drama”; in the seventh episode of the first series we see his mother do likewise to his father; and in the 21st and final episode of the sixth and final series, his son uses it on Carmela. It is precisely this richness and this care that makes The Sopranos not only the finest TV show ever made, but the finest artefact that contemporary society has to offer. It forces us to think, try and feel.

We have two principal methods of consuming art of this ilk - weekly episode, or week-long binge. The former allows for anticipation and contemplation, worthy pursuits both, but of an entirely different order to the immersion and obsession offered by the latter. Who, when watching the Wire, didn’t find themselves agreeing that trudat, it's time to reup the dishwasher salt, but we’ve run out, ain’t no thing. Losing yourself in another world is rare, likewise excitement at where your mind is going next.

In a sporting context, this can only be achieved via World Championship snooker. Because snooker is a simple, repetitive game, it is absorbing very quickly, its run of play faithfully reflected by the score.

But the Worlds are special. The first round is played over ten frames – as many as the final in the next most prestigious competition – and rather than the usual week, it lasts for 17 magical days, from morning until night. This bestows upon us the opportunity to, figuratively at least, put away our lives and concentrate. Of course, work and family still exist, but only in the context of the snooker and without anything like the same intensity. There is no joy on earth like watching the BBC’s shot of the championship compilation to discover that not only did you see most of them live, but that you have successfully predicted the shortlist.

It is true that people competing at anything provides compelling drama, emotion, pathos and bathos - the Olympics proves this every four years. But there is something uniquely nourishing about longform snooker, which is why it has sustained for decades without significant alteration.

The game relies on a steady arm, which relies on a steady nerve. The result is a slow creeping tension needs time and space to be properly enjoyed and endured. Most frequently, snooker is grouped with darts as a non-athletic sport, instead testing fine motor skills and the ability to calculate angles, velocity and forthcoming shots. However, its tempo and depth is more similar to Test cricket – except snooker trusts so much in its magnificence that it refuses to compromise the values which underpin it.

Alfred Hitchcock once explained that if two people are talking and a bomb explodes without warning, it constitutes surprise; but if two people are talking and all the while a ticking bomb is visible under the table, it constitutes suspense. “In these conditions,” he said, “The same innocuous conversation becomes fascinating because the public is participating in the scene. The audience is longing to warn the characters on the screen: ‘You shouldn't be talking about such trivial matters. There is a bomb beneath you and it is about to explode!’”

Such is snooker. In more or less every break, there will at some point be at least one difficult shot, loss of position or bad contact – and there will always be pressure. Add to that the broken flow of things – time spent waiting for the balls to stop, time spent prowling around the table, time spent sizing up the table, time spent cleaning the white, time spent waiting for a turn – and the ability for things to go wrong is constantly in contemplation.

All the more so in Sheffield’s Crucible Theatre. This venue, in its 40th year of hosting the competition, is elemental to its success. Place is crucial to storytelling, and even the word “Crucible” – whether “a ceramic or metal container in which metals or other substances may be melted or subjected to very high temperatures,” “a situation of severe trial”, or Arthur Miller’s searing play – conjures images of destruction, injustice and nakedness. And the actual Crucible is perhaps the most atmospheric arena in sport - intimate, quiet, and home to a legendarily knowledgeable audience, able to calculate when a player has secured a frame simply by listening to commentary through an earpiece and applauding as soon as the information is communicated to them.

To temper the stress, snooker is also something incredibly comforting. This is partly rooted in its scheduling. Working day and late-night sport is illicit and conspiratorial, while its presence in revision season has entire cohorts committing to “just one more quick frame”, and “just one more quick spliff”. But most powerfully of all, world championship snooker triggers memory and nostalgia, a rare example of something that hasn’t changed, as captivating now as it was in childhood.

This wistfulness is complemented by sensory pleasure of the lushest order. The colours of both baize and balls are the brightest, most engaging iterations imaginable, while the click of cue on ball, the clunk of ball on ball and the clack of ball on pocket is deep and musical; omnipresent and predictable, they combine for a soundtrack that one might play to a baby in the womb, instead of whale music or Megadeth.

Repeating rhythms are also set by the commentators, former players of many years standing. As is natural with extended coverage of repetitive-action games, there are numerous phrases that recur:

“We all love these tactical frames, but the players are so good nowadays that one mistake and your opponent’s in, so here he is, looking to win the frame at one visit ... and it’s there, right in the heart of the pocket for frame and match! But where’s the cue ball going! it really is amazing what can happen in the game of snooker, especially when we’re down to this one-table situation.”

But as omniscient narrators, the same men also provide actual insight, alerting us to options and eventualities of which we would otherwise be ignorant. Snooker is a simple game but geometry and physics are complicated, so an expert eye is required to explain them intelligibly; it is done with a winning combination of levity and sincerity.

The only essential way in which snooker is different is the standard of play. The first round of this year’s draw featured eight past winners, only two of whom have made it to the last four, and there were three second-round games that were plausible finals.

And just as literary fiction is as much about character as plot, so too is snooker. Nothing makes you feel you know someone like studying them over years at moments of elation and desolation, pressure and release, punctuated by TV confessions of guilty pleasures, such as foot massages, and bucket list contents, such as naked bungee jumping.

It is probably true that there are not as many “characters” in the game as once there were, but there are just as many characters, all of whom are part of that tradition. And because players play throughout their adult life, able to establish their personalities, in unforgiving close-up, over a number of years, they need not be bombastic to tell compelling stories, growing and undergoing change in the same way as Dorothea Brooke or Paulie Gualtieri.

Of no one is this more evident that Ding Junhui, runner-up last year and current semi-finalist this; though he is only 30, we have been watching him almost half his life. In 2007, he reached the final of the Masters tournament, in which he faced Ronnie O’Sullivan, the most naturally talented player ever to pick up a cue – TMNTPETPUAC for short. The crowd were, to be charitable, being boisterous, and to be honest, being pricks, and at the same time, O’Sullivan was playing monumentally well. So at the mid-session interval, Ding left the arena in tears and O’Sullivan took his arm in consolation; then when Ding beat O’Sullivan in this year’s quarter-final, he rested his head on O’Sullivan’s shoulder and exchanged words of encouragement for words of respect. It was beautiful, it was particular, and it was snooker.

Currently, Ding trails Mark Selby, the “Jester from Leicester” – a lucky escape, considering other rhyming nouns - in their best of 33 encounter. Given a champion poised to move from defending to dominant, the likelihood is that Ding will remain the best player never to win the game’s biggest prize for another year.

Meanwhile, the other semi-final pits Barry Hawkins, a finalist in 2013, against John Higgins, an undisputed great and three-time champion. Higgins looks likely to progress, and though whoever wins through will be an outsider, both are eminently capable of taking the title. Which is to say that, this weekend, Planet Earth has no entertainment more thrilling, challenging and enriching than events at the Crucible Theatre, Sheffield.

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