Author: Andrew Nind

  • Viewed in perspective

    In decades to come, when people look back on the performance of our current government, I doubt that parties during lockdown will be the first thing that comes to mind. It is much more likely to be a lack of action on the climate crisis.

    In its most recent (2021) progress report, the UK Committee on Climate Change observed that only 5 out of 34 key sectors had made notable progress on action to combat climate change in the last two years. The government’s Net Zero strategy is welcome, but proof will be in the delivery; and the hard evidence is not encouraging.

    A sense of how committed the government really is can be obtained by looking at expenditure. For example, in August the WWF released a study showing that green policies make up 0.01% of GDP. Soon afterwards, the National Audit Office revealed that the overall expenditure on the Green Homes Grant would be around £0.3 billion. Compare that with, say, the circa £10 billion that the Financial Times today estimates has been wasted by the government on faulty PPE equipment. Or the >£100 billion for the environmentally damaging HS2 rail project.

    Numerous such comparisons are possible; and while any single comparison is inconclusive and exact figures are debatable, the general picture is clear enough. As a nation, we have not – yet – shown a willingness to spend anywhere near enough money on perhaps the greatest issue of our lifetime.

    Energy prices

    Alongside parties in Downing Street, the major focus of the media is today on energy prices; and across the political spectrum there are calls to curb their rise. And yet the issue with energy prices is not that they are too high, but rather that they are too low. For decades, the overall trend of energy prices, like food, has been downwards in inflation-adjusted terms, to the point where few people bother to turn lights or computers off, or the heating off when they leave the house, or notice whether they have or have not.

    Though it seems politically impossible to say so, most of us should pay more for our energy, including transport fuel, with support provided to those who genuinely cannot afford it.

    The climate scientist David Mackay liked to say that we always need to ask ourselves: “where is the energy coming from?” Until we reach some golden age when technology has mastered global nuclear fusion, or diplomacy has mastered international cooperation to cover deserts with solar panels and share the output through international power grids – until then, if ever, Mackay’s question should be part of any energy-intensive decision taken nationally or individually. It is not that individuals can seriously be expected to know the answer in detail; but rather that asking the question shows an awareness that energy (and its impact) cannot be taken for granted.

    When we get into the routine of asking the question, energy might arguably be priced at the right level.

    Nadia Whittome’s private bill

    Just as government does not treat the climate crisis seriously, nor does our education system. As a school governor, I find it almost incredible that teaching on sustainability is outside the “core” curriculum and confined to “extracurricular” activities. What is more “core” than the future of life on Earth?

    So it’s good to see at least a private members’ bill – the Climate Education Bill – now at its second reading in parliament. The bill is pushing what should not need pushing, namely that sustainability teaching should be included in all subjects and years in the national curriculum. Let’s hope it passes and has at least some effect.

    The vision we need

    As a society we are in real trouble over climate breakdown. The problem is not a lack of vision as to what needs to be done. There are plenty of sensible policy documents and we have an excellent advisory body in the form of the Committee on Climate Change. The problem rather is a lack of delivery.

    And this failure of delivery exposes a genuine lack of vision – which is about what it means to live a happy and fulfilled life. As long as happiness here and abroad is equated with size of house, a new car, new clothes and stuff generally, long-distance travel, external stimuli and never being still, we are in trouble. As long as a sense of security is associated with high earnings and a high animal protein diet, we are in trouble. Above all, our culture and our education system need to address our fundamental notions of happiness and security, for the future of life on Earth.

  • Computers, Covid and planetary conservation

    I hope that in 2022 we can become more attuned to the natural world. The omens are not good.

    A major problem is our obsession with computer screens and the world of AI. Instead of treating them as a tool – a very useful tool, especially for crunching numbers, but still a tool – we allow them to dominate our waking moments; and accord AI a degree of kudos it doesn’t deserve. And it matters because in so doing we forget we’re a part of nature, that the natural world is responsible for us being able to send messages, see the screen, indeed to see anything at all.

    We’re allowing AI to constrain our thinking. Here’s a topical example.

    A Covid Christmas

    The weekend before Christmas, I caught Covid. At least I’m as certain as it’s possible to be that that’s when I caught it. Most of the family we were visiting came down with it too, at the same time. And in the preceding days, my only ventures outside were a whiz round Waitrose (ten minutes) and cycling into Reading for (ironically) a Covid booster. If I’m right, the incubation period was only two and a bit days, but that’s possible according to Harvard – especially with Omicron.

    Once the PCR confirmation came through, I received emails and texts from the NHS, including about the need to respond to Track and Trace. I wanted to be helpful, so had a go, but my enthusiasm was soon evaporating.

    It wasn’t so much the length of the form – but why does it have to be so long? – or the related fact that it was asking a (presumably ill) person questions that could have been asked of others (e.g. what is your partner’s NHS number? I don’t know! Why don’t you email her and ask directly, given you say you’re going to email her anyway?) Nor was it even quite the fact that you had to cross your fingers and hope common sense about exceptions would apply (“people in your household will also need to self-isolate for 10 days …”; hopefully the following page, which I couldn’t see without completing this one and pressing Continue, would have said that they’re actually exempt due to having had two doses already – but I wasn’t willing to take the risk of entering their details and have them bombarded by stay-in-your-room-during-Christmas messages even though they didn’t have to). The fact that the form appeared out-of-date didn’t engender much confidence.

    No, it was none of these. The biggest issue I had with the process was the unthinking formulaic rigidity of it. After I’d given up with the electronic form, I was rung the following morning – and once I was persuaded it wasn’t spam and I spoke to a person, we tried again from where I’d left off.

    The phone call did not get off to a good start. I was informed that I would have to self-isolate for 10 days. This now being the Wednesday, my response was that that statement contradicted the government announcement that I could take tests on days 6 and 7 and – providing they were both negative – be released then. Oh yes, said the caller, you’re right.

    Having cleared up that none of the 20-odd work categories they list apply to me, I was then asked about where I went between the 12th and 16th. Now I’m confident I caught Covid on the 17th. I wasn’t convinced it was going to help anybody to talk about a rapid and irrelevant trip to Waitrose, or cycling to have a booster (standing masked in a socially distanced queue when I got to the venue) – and I wanted to get on to the 17th – so I answered “Nowhere”. A lie, but hopefully a white one.

    So next I was asked how I thought I might have caught Covid. I said I knew exactly (an exaggeration), and then said it was visiting family that weekend. You’d think (at least I did) that might be received as an invitation to explore the family visit – who? where? did I visit anywhere else that weekend? … I had my answers prepared. Instead of which, the next words I heard were “Thank you very much, that’s all” and it was over.

    I can only guess that my answers didn’t fit into the boxes. The system had decided I had caught Covid between the 12th and 16th, and there was no entry for recording details about persons visited on the 17th. Computer says No; end of call.

    Non-algorithmic thinking

    In the 1990s, I struggled with a couple of heavy books – The Emperor’s New Mind and Shadows of the Mind, written by the physicist Roger Penrose. Penrose, a genius who co-discovered black holes amongst his numerous achievements, was convinced that human brains cannot be adequately replicated by computers and set about trying to prove it and find a “missing science of consciousness”.

    Shadows of the Mind wasn’t well received, most academics thinking that Penrose was better sticking to general relativity. Penrose’s argument – involving Godel’s theorem and “non-algorithmic thinking” – is convoluted and very hard for those of us with bog standard brains to follow. Maybe his critics were right about the details not making sense. I don’t know. But I believe his general thesis, which is that computers fundamentally differ from the brains of even the most vocal AI advocates.

    It’s a minority point-of-view though. A mark of how much we revere computers is that a best-selling model is called Think Pad. Personally I know myself well enough to be confident that the best thinking I do is when staring at a blank sheet of paper, or out of the window at the garden, or going for a walk. And that computer screens after a while are positively stultifying.

    Maybe others have different experience. But it certainly seems that “algorithmic thinking” isn’t doing Track and Trace any favours.