Dr Sarah Ingham is the author of The Military Covenant: its impact on civil-military relations in Britain.
Little better reflects the brokenness of Britain than headlines about towns at risk of running out of drinking water.
Much of England’s parched countryside is looking less green and pleasant and more like a Grapes of Wrath’s dust bowl. City parks are straw yellow.
As climate change champions crow “told you so”, others head gratefully to beaches and beer gardens. What’s worse than a hot, dry summer of blue skies? A damp, grey one, the sort which often blesses Scotland.
Last week, the Met Office stated July was the driest on record. Following successive heatwaves, drought was declared across more than 70 per cent of England and all of Wales, affecting some 45 million people.
There has been no rain for almost two months in parts of southern England, where last winter was one of the wettest.
Britain’s lurch from deluge to drought seems almost Biblical. At least in Old Testament Egypt, Joseph was prepared. Thanks to his foresight during the seven years of plenty, seven years of drought-induced famine could be survived.
Perhaps former Chancellor George Osborne drew on this Book of Genesis blueprint for his accusation that Labour failed to “fix the roof while the sun was shining.” Had the Coalition bothered to heed this criticism of its predecessor, today Britain’s national infrastructure might be less of a global embarrassment.
Water now joins the list of sub-optimal public services, including potholed roads, imported energy and creaking public healthcare. All signal that, while in GDP league table terms the country might be rich, it feels far poorer than, say, Australia.
As hosepipe bans were introduced, we could feel the pain of those unable to top up their swimming pools. But as they trudge around with watering cans every evening trying to save their precious plants, middle Britain’s millions of gardeners are reminded that the last major reservoir opened in 1992. Since then, the ONS estimates that the population has jumped from around 56 million to 67 million+. Unwanted mass immigration has consequences.
A few weeks ago, Gatwick airport had no water. Thousands of passengers and the loos out of action? Last Saturday, a burst water main closed road access to Heathrow’s Terminals 2 and 3. In May similar flooding hit all trains to the airport.
As water companies propose surge pricing, water supplies have been repeatedly interrupted in parts of Kent since before Christmas. Nothing gives an affluent spa town the air of a refugee camp more than the arrival of pallets of bottled water. Royal Tunbridge Wells twinned with al Roj in northern Syria?
Around a dozen private monopoly companies supply British households in England and Wales with water and sewerage services. Privatisation in 1989 allowed access to capital markets, enabling billions to be invested in infrastructure projects such as the new Thames Tideway Tunnel.
Often water companies’ debt burden increased, and overseas owners and shareholders made a financial killing. YouGov suggests 82% want water back in public ownership: for many, life’s essential should not be financially exploited.
Sewage-hit rivers and beaches have come to symbolise water privatisation. Having beefed up pollution monitoring and reporting, the post-2019 Conservative government created a rod for the Party’s back. The dirty waterways problem is now easier to identify but seems impossible to solve.
Somehow, CCHQ failed to realise that the 2024 General Election coincided with the wild swimming craze, adopted primarily by women. Gaining 64 seats, taking their tally to 72, Ed Davey and the LibDems capitalised on what can be summed up as “the Tories’ literally shit privatisation.”
Conservatives need to work on the narrative. What if water had remained nationalised?
One guide is Scotland, where water remains publicly owned. The average household bill is about £2 per week cheaper. But only around one-third of the country’s 4,000+ sewer overflows are monitored, and standards for water quality do not include microplastics, “forever chemicals” and pharmaceuticals, say Environmental Rights Centre for Scotland. The campaigners have launched Clean Up Scotland’s Sewage, which implies that nationalisation is not a silver bullet.
The Environment Agency suggests that by 2055 there could be a 5 billion litre a day shortfall in public water supplies.
Last year, the government promised to abolish Ofwat , the water regulator and create “a new, single powerful regulator”, which will also incorporate three other agencies.
Ofwat’s current Board members’ biogs reveal the cosiness of the quangocracy. The civil service, HS2, smart motorways, the NHS, Ofgem, the Lower Thames Crossing … There seems little point in replacing one regulator with another if it is still run by a revolving cast of public sector personnel involved in failed projects that have cost the taxpayer billions.
Thirsty data centres will add to demand for water. This long hot summer has made Britain realise that successful water industry management is not about just leaks, pollution and bills, but the security of supply.