I wrote this essay the week after the Defence Secretary revealed that the Royal Navy had spent over a month tracking three Russian submarines in the North Atlantic, specifically designed to survey undersea infrastructure in peacetime and sabotage it in conflict. This news finally pushed me to write something I had been contemplating since the Nord Stream pipelines were blown up in 2022.

The UK depends on approximately 62 fibre-optic cables, six gas pipelines and ten electricity interconnectors running along the seabed to connect it with the rest of the world. More than 95% of our internet traffic, three-quarters of our gas, and a significant share of our electricity all arrive this way. This essay maps that infrastructure, examines a series of real incidents where cables and pipelines have been damaged or threatened, considers how drone warfare is changing the threat picture, and asks what the UK government is doing in response.

My biggest concern, having done the research, is not the threat itself but the gap between the scale of the risk and the seriousness of the response. The UK owns no cable repair ships. It has one dedicated ocean surveillance vessel. Churchill worried about U-boats. The modern equivalent is already here, and we are not yet taking it seriously enough.

I wrote this essay because I kept hearing the same conversation everywhere I went. Charities complaining about local government. Local government complaining about the Scottish Government. The Scottish Government complaining about Westminster. Everyone arguing about their share of the pie, and nobody asking how to make the pie bigger. I wrote the outline one evening at my gym in Paisley, on my phone between exercises, because I couldn’t get the subject out of my head.

This essay is my attempt to explain where government money actually comes from and how the UK might get more of it. I work through the four sources of government income, trace how money cascades through the different tiers from Westminster down to local authorities, and then set out six strategies for growing the overall supply. I also examine the risks that could significantly reduce the money available, from cyberattacks and energy shocks to demographic decline and a loss of investor confidence in UK government bonds.

This is not an essay about balancing the budget. That conversation is already happening elsewhere. This is about the less discussed question: where does the money come from, and what does it take to grow it? My perspective is shaped by 25 years of economic development consulting across the UK and Africa, and by the lived experience of emigrating from a country where these are all very real problems.

I wrote this essay over a one-week frenzy in early 2026, in early morning sessions before work and at my local cafe in the afternoons, and in the evenings. Energy policy isn’t my professional speciality, but having lived through almost a decade of scheduled blackouts in South Africa, and paying for expensive energy in the UK, I’ve been paying close attention to how the UK manages its energy.

What follows is an attempt to think through UK energy policy as a systems thinker and strategic-minded observer rather than as a technical expert. I explore the full environmental cost of renewable energy across the entire value chain, the geopolitical risks of depending on China and Russia for critical minerals, why UK energy prices are so high and what drives them, the case for significantly more nuclear power, and why community and state ownership of energy infrastructure matters. I also draw on comparisons with South Africa, France, Norway and South Korea throughout.

This is my honest assessment of the UK’s energy policy and where it needs to invest aggressively before it is too late.

The principle of diversity has been on my mind recently – of beliefs, views and skills that emerge from different demographics, political allegiances, neurological types and behavioural traits.

As one might expect, the subject of diversity lends itself to various interpretations, often with opposing views like those I encounter online and in discussions. It is notable how hard it is to reach any consensus on why diversity actually matters, as debates tend to break down into polarised positions.

I prefer a more nuanced and contextual approach to thinking about diversity at the levels of countries, organisations, teams, families and relationships. This article proposes the conditions where diversity is an asset to any system, organisation or team, and describes what tends to happen if these conditions are not met.

Organisations need good governance to stay on track and fulfil their purpose. Good governance involves a group of people, such as a board of directors or trustees, providing strategic oversight and ensuring that an organisation makes sensible strategic decisions and operates ethically. Such governance structures function effectively when they consist of the right people having the right conversations. These are the two key ingredients for successful governance.

In this context, the “right people” means capable individuals with a diversity of knowledge, experience, and mental models. The “right conversations” include a willingness to invest time and effort in thoroughly exploring the matter at hand with fellow directors.

Organisations should therefore be mindful and intentional about the types of people they wish to recruit for their boards, the types of conversations they want to encourage, and the type of governance culture that would be a strategic asset.

This article pulls together some ideas that have been floating around my mind for a few decades and also tackles the relationship between thought diversity and demographic diversity.

Here are some thoughts about upstream versus downstream problems, especially in the context of the social, economic and environmental challenges that charities and governments face.

Upstream problems are the root causes and conditions that slowly emerge and eventually lead to the more visible, urgent problems that appear downstream. These often form part of a vicious cycle where the deeper causes are obscured by the fallout they produce.

By contrast, downstream problems are more tangible. They are loud, visible and easier to rally around. This makes them politically and practically more attractive to address, even when it’s too late to avoid the damage. The austerity measures in the UK have made this tension between upstream and downstream activities even more apparent.

My clients and colleagues have been complaining about how difficult fundraising has recently become in the UK for charities, social enterprises and community groups. They observe that there seems to be less funding available and much more competition for it. The overall mood of the UK third sector seems subdued.

Unfortunately, this situation is very familiar to me. It’s almost déjà vu. It reminds me of the situation facing the South African non-profit sector since the early 2000s. I know the endgame – how this can turn out since I’ve spent over two decades helping these organisations overcome these challenges.

Here are 10 trends I observed about how the third sector in South Africa adapted to the decline in funding. This may contain insights for UK charities.

There is some debate about the job market in the third sector in the UK. It concerns whether organisations like charities and social enterprises struggle to find qualified staff because of a shortage of skilled job seekers. My article explores the different perspectives in this debate and offers advice for organisations struggling to recruit staff. This advice is based on my experience of looking for work in the UK.

Community wealth building (CWB) is a philosophy and approach to local economic development that is packaged into a coherent and marketable model. CWB is gaining traction in the UK.

CWB aims to promote economic activity and investment in local areas and enable equitable economic growth. It opposes the idea of extractive economics where wealth is taken out of communities by national and multinational corporations. It rather promotes generative economics and embraces concepts like localism and new municipalism. This involves prioritising local matters and increasing the autonomy of local municipalities or councils.

The Scottish Government has embraced this concept and is busy embedding it in policy.

This article introduces CWB and reflects on its value and limitations. It will be interesting to anyone involved in sustaining and growing a local economy. I wrote it to contribute to the discussion about CWB.

Our organisations all desire to achieve a big and profitable source of income from a friendly client, funder or investment. It helps to stabilise their financial situation and creates a foundation for growth.

However, these situations all carry a hidden risk – that our organisations become too dependent on this income stream and too distracted or complacent to do anything about it. I can tell many stories of organisations blindsided by the loss of this income for a multitude of reasons. While some organisations recovered, many closed down or became a shadow of their former selves.

Organisations must therefore be mindful of the risks of having a single large contract or income stream. This risk is higher where this income accounts for a significant proportion of overall income, seems reliable, and when you must shift how your organisation operates to accommodate a client or funder.

This article will explore the advantages and disadvantages of a good single source of income. It also provides some ideas for how you might mitigate the risks associated with this favourable situation.