Tag: Green Politics

  • Seizing the Means of Computation

    Soundtrack to this post.

    A hand-coloured 1812 etching showing a large figure in a long dress and bonnet standing above a group of small figures, with a mill burning in the background.
    The Leader of the Luddites, May 1812. They were not against machines. They were against what the machines were being used to do to them.
    Working Class Movement Library catalogue, via Wikimedia Commons. Public domain, copyright expired.

    Three years ago I put up a post about a Buckminster Fuller quote, the one about inventing jobs because of a false idea that everybody has to be employed at some kind of drudgery. I said then that “automation is taking away people’s work” reads to me as an argument for automation rather than against it. Who actually wants to work? If work was the thing we wanted to spend our lives doing, they would not need to pay us to turn up. We work because we need to eat and to have somewhere to live.

    I still think that. What has changed is that I now use AI most days, and the political question has stopped being abstract. So I want to set out why I think the left, and the greens in particular, are on the wrong side of this, and what it would take for me to be wrong.

    First, a caveat about the framing. It is tidier to say the left is against AI and the right is for it than it is true. Plenty of the right hates it too, for reasons about national labour markets, or Silicon Valley, or the politics they believe is baked into the models. And some of the loudest enthusiasts would describe themselves as being on the left. What is true is that almost every objection I find persuasive comes from the left, and almost nobody on the left is making the case for.

    The objection that nearly changed my mind

    Keynes wrote in 1930 that his grandchildren would be working fifteen hours a week by about now. Output per hour is several times what it was then. The fifteen hours never arrived. The gains were not distributed, they were captured, and everything else follows from that.

    There is a harder version of this. Every reduction in working time we actually enjoy, the weekend, the eight hour day, holidays, sick pay, was won by organised workers with leverage, and that leverage came from being difficult to replace. AI is precisely a technology for making people easier to replace, including the people whose scarcity used to give them a bargaining position. So the machine that could pay for the leisure is also the machine that dismantles our ability to demand it.

    I do not have a rebuttal to that. I think it is correct. What I dispute is the conclusion. If the problem is that the gains get captured, the answer is to contest the ownership, not to oppose the machine. Opposing the machine is the one strategy that has never worked, and it leaves the ownership question untouched.

    I also want to correct myself. In an earlier post I wrote that data is the primary resource of the AI era, and that reclaiming our data was the first step. I was wrong about that, or at least I was a year late. The models are already trained. Withholding my files from now on does not untrain anything. The binding constraints are compute, capital and electricity, and none of those are in citizen hands or heading there. Hyperscaler capital spending this year is over six hundred billion dollars, around ninety per cent of the accelerator spend goes to one company, and roughly nine tenths of leading edge chip production happens at one foundry in Taiwan. That is a narrower chokepoint than oil ever was. Self hosting my files while renting my thinking is not the answer I thought it was.

    The carbon

    This is the objection I take most seriously, partly because I made it myself in that same post. Datacentre electricity was around 415 terawatt hours in 2024 and the IEA expects it to roughly double by 2030, reaching about 945 terawatt hours, which is a little more than Japan uses today. Emissions in the sector are rising while every other sector is supposed to be falling. Those are the facts and no amount of enthusiasm dissolves them.

    The reply I hear most often is that the carbon spent now buys carbon saved later, through better materials, better grids, better science. The IEA has actually modelled this, and existing applications could deliver reductions several times larger than datacentre emissions by 2035. But the same report says there is currently no momentum that would deliver those reductions, and that without deliberate conditions the effect could be marginal. So it is not a fact about the technology, it is a promise about policy, and we have all heard promises of that shape before from people who wanted to keep drilling.

    There is a better argument available here and it is sitting in Scotland. Last year turning Scottish wind down cost around £350 million, and the replacement generation, mostly gas, cost over a billion. Of the ten terawatt hours curtailed across Great Britain, northern Scotland alone accounted for 8.8 of them, meaning only 61 per cent of the wind power that region could have generated reached the grid. We generate clean power we cannot move and then pay twice for the failure. Compute that can be sited near constrained generation and switched off when the wind drops is a genuinely good use of that. Publicly owned compute soaking up wasted Scottish wind is a better answer than anything I have heard from the industry.

    So here is my limit, since a green position without one is just enthusiasm wearing a green coat. Compute buildout should not exceed the clean generation added to the same grid over the same period. If datacentre demand keeps outrunning clean supply, then the carbon is not being invested, it is being borrowed with no plan to repay it, and I would oppose it.

    The training data

    The models were built out of other people’s work without consent or payment. That is true and I am not going to pretend otherwise. The UK government’s preferred fix was a data mining exception with an opt out, which would have put the burden on every illustrator and session musician in the country to go round asking not to be scraped. The consultation drew over eleven thousand responses, a Lords committee called unlicensed training on creative work a clear and present danger to the sector, and in March the government confirmed it no longer has a preferred option and is not proceeding with any of the four proposals for now. That is not a settled victory, because the opt out is parked rather than buried. But it is a win, and it was won by organised labour, which rather proves the point about leverage above.

    My position is that this was expropriation for the common good. That is a respectable argument on the left with a long history behind it, and it is the argument I want to make. But it only works on one condition, which is that the thing expropriated ends up commonly owned. Taking from freelance illustrators to enrich shareholders is not the common good. It is just taking. Aaron Swartz went to war against paywalls around knowledge, and the same argument cuts against a private lab enclosing the commons in weights it owns and renting the access back. If I am going to use him, I have to follow him all the way, and that lands on open weights and public models rather than on a defence of the companies as they are.

    I should also concede the part that hurts my original argument most. The first work this technology took was not the drudgery. It was illustration, session music, translation, copywriting. Those are the jobs people do for less money than they could earn elsewhere because they would rather do that than anything else. My whole case rests on work being something we would drop if we could afford to. The people hit first are the exception to it.

    What it has given me, and to whom

    Part of my job is getting utilities reconnected to empty properties so they can be prepared for someone to live in. A chunk of that is chasing suppliers, waiting on hold, and writing the same firm letter for the fifth time. I used to lose hours to a single complaint email. Now it takes minutes, and it says exactly what needs saying to get the thing moved.

    The person who benefits from that is not me. It is whoever is waiting for that property. Every day off a void is a day sooner that a family gets a home. That is a small, concrete, material good delivered to precisely the people the left says it speaks for, and I trust it more than any argument about post scarcity leisure.

    I would not extend that to the parts of public service where the human contact is the service itself. A housing officer’s time with a tenant is not overhead wrapped around the work, it is the work. And the pattern to watch is the one where cuts hollow out a service, automation fills the hole, and the staffing never comes back. Fewer than half the public trust councils or central government to use this stuff responsibly, and on the evidence of the last twenty years of government IT they have earned that scepticism.

    Where I cannot answer

    If the frontier models went dark tomorrow I would be stuck. Not inconvenienced, stuck. I have built things I could not now rebuild unaided, on infrastructure I do not own, from a supplier who can change the terms whenever they like. I moved my files off Big Tech and onto my own server and called it a small act of ownership, and I meant it, and I did it while quietly becoming a tenant again somewhere I was not looking.

    That is the honest state of it. I am not making the case for AI from a position of independence. I am making it from inside the dependency, which is exactly why I want the ownership question settled rather than left to five companies and a foundry.

    On the slop question, I have written before that if a work moves me the origin matters less than the responsibility around it. Who is paid. Who is harmed. Who is accountable. I still think that is the right test, and it is also better than the arguments usually made in its place, because people have always been perfectly capable of producing rubbish without assistance. What is new is not the average quality, it is the volume, and volume is a pollution problem rather than a taste problem. The sinks are the places we go to find things out. None of them were built for junk at no cost. The part that worries me most is not the writing at all, it is that when anything can be fabricated the default response to evidence becomes doubt, and deniability is a resource that accrues to whoever already has the lawyers.

    Which gives me my red lines, and I did not have them written down until I went looking. No automated decision that takes away someone’s liberty, their immigration status, or the money they live on. No system where the person it lands on cannot reach a named human with the authority to overturn it. And nothing deployed on the back of work whose makers were neither paid nor represented in the decision to deploy it. That third one I am on the wrong side of every day I open one of these tools, and the only thing that fixes it is the models ending up commonly owned rather than rented, which is why I keep arriving back at the same demand.

    Those hold whoever owns the model, including if the owner is the state, because public ownership was no protection at all in the Dutch benefits scandal or in Robodebt.

    The ask

    Public ownership settles who captures the gains. It does not settle what the thing is allowed to do to you, so the programme needs both halves.

    Inference should be regulated as a utility rather than sold as a product. Compute should be publicly owned at national or European scale, sited where the power is being wasted and switched off when it is scarce. Models above a certain capability, and anything trained on public material, should have open weights so they can be run by people who do not own datacentres. And some decisions should be off the table for everyone, whoever owns the machine.

    None of that is anti-AI. All of it is the sort of thing only the left has ever been any good at demanding. The right will not regulate this because it does not want to, and the tech industry will not do it voluntarily because nobody ever has. Leaving the question to whoever owns the GPUs is not caution. It is a decision, and it is being made without us.

    I would rather we made it. Preferably before I have to explain to someone waiting on a housing list why their new home is delayed by a policy debate about whether the machine should have been allowed to send the email.

  • Let Scotland Go: A Kindness to Both Nations

    Soundtrack to this post.

    Well, this isn’t how I planned to spend my evening. I’m writing this from a hospital bed, thanks to a sudden issue with my right eye. It’s nothing serious, but it does mean I’m stuck here overnight. No access to my VPS terminal, no proper keyboard, just me, my thoughts, and a surprisingly comfortable NHS bed. And since I’ve got time to kill, I might as well write. Again.

    First off, let’s talk about the NHS. It’s not perfect, but it’s a bloody marvel. Free at the point of use, staffed by people who actually care, and despite years of underfunding and mismanagement, still managing to keep people alive and relatively well. I’m grateful for it. We all should be. So, if you’re reading this and you’re English, remember that the next time someone tries to tell you Scotland’s better off without independence. The NHS is one of the best arguments for why the UK should work. But it’s also a reminder of how badly Westminster can mess things up when it wants to.

    Right, now that’s out of the way, let’s get to the point. Why should the English support Scottish independence? I’m English myself, by the way. Grew up near Manchester, moved to Scotland ten years ago. And I’ve always believed in independence for Scotland. Not because I don’t like being English, but because I think it’s the right thing to do. So, let’s break it down.

    Democracy Actually Working

    Scotland votes one way. England votes another. And yet, Scotland gets dragged along with whatever England wants. That’s not democracy, is it? It’s like being in a flat share where one person always picks the TV programme, even when everyone else wants to watch something different. At some point, you’ve got to ask why you’re even sharing a flat.

    Scottish independence isn’t about nationalism in the flag-waving, chest-thumping sense. It’s about having a government that actually reflects the people it serves. Scotland’s more left-leaning. It’s more progressive on social issues. It’s greener. And yet, it’s stuck with a Westminster government that doesn’t give a toss about any of that. So, if you’re English and you believe in democracy, you should support Scotland’s right to choose its own path.

    A Greener Future

    Scotland’s got ambitious climate targets. It’s investing in renewables like it’s going out of fashion (which, let’s be honest, fossil fuels should be). But Westminster’s dragging its feet. More runways, more roads, more North Sea oil. It’s like trying to run a marathon with someone tying your shoelaces together.

    An independent Scotland could set its own environmental policies. It could push harder for wind, wave, and tidal energy. It could show the rest of the UK what a proper green transition looks like. And if you’re English and you care about the planet, wouldn’t you want that?

    Brexit (Yes, Still)

    Let’s not pretend Brexit’s going well. It’s not. Scotland voted to stay in the EU. It got dragged out anyway. And now it’s stuck with the economic fallout, the trade barriers, the whole mess. Independence would give Scotland the chance to rejoin the EU. To rebuild those trade links. To be part of a bigger, cooperative project again.

    If you’re English and you’re still clinging to the idea that Brexit was a good thing, fine. But if you’re one of the many who’ve spent the last few years watching in horror as the economy tanks and the government flails, why wouldn’t you want Scotland to have a way out?

    A Left-Wing Alternative

    Scotland’s politics are different. The SNP’s not perfect, but it’s miles ahead of Westminster on social issues, welfare, and public services. Labour’s resurgence in England? Great. But Scotland’s already got a left-leaning government. It’s just being held back by Westminster.

    An independent Scotland could be a proper left-wing alternative. It could show that another way is possible. Higher taxes for the rich, proper investment in public services, a real commitment to reducing inequality. If you’re English and you’re sick of the same old Westminster politics, wouldn’t you want to see that happen?

    It’s Not About Separation, It’s About Choice

    This is the big one. Supporting Scottish independence isn’t about wanting to break up the UK for the sake of it. It’s about recognising that Scotland should have the choice. That it should be able to decide its own future. And if you believe in self-determination, in the right of people to govern themselves, then you should support that.

    And here’s the thing: it’s not like Scotland and England would become enemies. We’d still be neighbours. We’d still trade, still cooperate, still share a history. But Scotland would finally have the chance to build the kind of country it wants to be.

    So, What Now?

    If you’re English and you’re reading this, think about it. Scottish independence isn’t a threat. It’s an opportunity. For Scotland, yes, but for England too. It’s a chance to rethink what the UK is, what it could be. To move away from this centralised, London-dominated mess and towards something better.

    And if you’re Scottish? Well, keep pushing. Keep making the case. Because independence isn’t just about nationalism. It’s about building a fairer, greener, more democratic country. And who wouldn’t want that?

    (Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to try and get some sleep in this very bright, very noisy hospital ward.)

  • Trump’s Donroe Doctrine: A Wake-Up Call for Scotland and the Left

    Soundtrack to this post.

     

    The world is sliding back into an era where “might makes right,” and Donald Trump’s so-called “Donroe Doctrine” is the latest proof. This policy, which effectively declares the Western Hemisphere as America’s backyard, isn’t just a threat to Latin America. It’s a wake-up call for Europe, the left, and, most importantly, for Scotland. If we’ve learned anything from the past week, it’s that relying on NATO for security is a gamble we can’t afford to take.

    The Venezuela Precedent: Imperialism in Action

    The US attack on Venezuela and the capture of President Nicolás Maduro was as predictable as it was illegal. Trump has spent the past year signalling his intent, and his National Security Strategy made it clear that he sees the Western Hemisphere as America’s sphere of influence. No international laws, no treaties, no alliances will stand in his way. The message is simple: if the US wants something, it will take it.

    What’s shocking isn’t just the blatant disregard for international law. It’s Europe’s response, or lack thereof. European leaders, who have spent years rallying support for Ukraine on the grounds of territorial integrity, are now stuck between condemning the US or backing its actions. Most have chosen to do neither, offering only weak, non-committal statements. Sir Keir Starmer’s response was particularly spineless, proving once again that when it comes to standing up to US imperialism, Europe lacks the backbone.

    The Venezuelan opposition leader, María Corina Machado, praised the US action, calling it a “huge step for humanity.” But let’s be clear: this wasn’t about justice or human rights. It was about control. Venezuela has the world’s largest proven crude oil reserves, and Trump’s administration has made no secret of its desire to secure those resources. This is classic resource colonialism, dressed up in the language of democracy and security.

    Greenland: The Next Target

    For Scotland, this should be a warning. If Trump is willing to invade Venezuela for its oil, what’s to stop him from turning his gaze to Greenland? The US president has made no secret of his desire to annex Greenland from Denmark, another NATO ally. And if he’s willing to use force, as he has in Venezuela, then Europe is facing a crisis of its own making.

    The problem is simple: Europe lacks hard power. It’s a continent that has spent decades relying on the US for security, only to find itself at the mercy of a president who treats international law like an inconvenience. If Trump takes Greenland by force (and make no mistake, he could), then NATO is finished. And if NATO collapses, Europe’s security unravels with it.

    Denmark’s Prime Minister, Mette Frederiksen, has warned that any US attack on a NATO ally would be the end of “everything.” Greenland’s Prime Minister, Jens-Frederik Nielsen, has urged Trump to give up his “fantasies about annexation.” But words alone won’t stop Trump. If he’s serious about Greenland (and all signs suggest he is), then Europe needs a plan. And so does Scotland.

    Scotland’s Dilemma: Independence or Complicity?

    This isn’t just about security: it’s about sovereignty. If Denmark can’t count on NATO to protect Greenland, what hope is there for Scotland? The truth is, we’re better off charting our own course. Independence isn’t just about self-governance, it’s about self-defence. It’s about building a nation that stands on its own principles, not one that bends to the whims of an imperial power.

    The lesson from Trump’s Donroe Doctrine is clear: in a world where the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must, Scotland must build its own resilience. That means investing in renewable energy, strengthening democratic institutions, and forging alliances based on mutual respect—not imperialism.

    A Leftist and Green Perspective

    For the left, this is a moment to reject the false dichotomy of US imperialism versus European weakness. We need a third way: a politics of international solidarity, anti-colonialism, and environmental justice. Scotland, with its vast renewable energy potential, could be a leader in this movement. We could show the world that another way is possible; one that doesn’t rely on military alliances or resource wars.

    The Green perspective is equally clear. Trump’s aggression is driven by a desire for oil and minerals. The answer isn’t to compete in this race to the bottom. It’s to reject it entirely. Scotland could lead the way in building a green economy that doesn’t depend on the exploitation of other nations’ resources.

    The left and the Green movement must unite

    The world is changing, and not for the better. Trump’s aggression is a reminder that international law is only as strong as those who enforce it. For Scotland, the choice is simple: do we want to be part of a crumbling alliance, or do we want to stand on our own? The time to decide is now.

    The left and the Green movement must unite around a vision of independence that rejects both US imperialism and European complacency. We need a Scotland that is sovereign, sustainable, and socialist. Anything less is a betrayal of our principles and our future.

  • Seizing the Means of Connection

    Soundtrack to this post.

    As we enter 2026, many of us are making the usual resolutions to spend less time on our screens or eat more healthily. My resolution is different. I am not trying to spend less time on the internet; I am trying to change how I inhabit it. I am moving “Big Data” out of my life and moving my digital existence onto my own Virtual Private Server (VPS).

    Image: Warded lock
    by Thegreenj
    via Wikimedia Commons, licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0. A threshold to a digital space that belongs to you, not a billionaire.

    This sounds like a technical project, but it is fundamentally a political one. For years, we have lived in digital company towns. We do not own the square where we speak; corporations do. We saw this reality on full display at the start of this year. Men like Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg were not just guests at Donald Trump’s second inauguration. They were right at the front, seated in positions of honour that were traditionally reserved for family and cabinet members. It was a clear signal of the increasingly close bond between political power and the billionaire owners of the digital platforms we use every day. We do not own our memories or our data; we merely rent space from them. We have become tenants on digital land that can be sold, gated off, or strip-mined for AI training data at a moment’s notice.

    Aaron Swartz spent his life fighting to liberate knowledge and he understood these power dynamics perfectly. He famously said that information is power. But he also knew that like all power, there are those who want to keep it for themselves.

    Right now, that power is concentrated in a few corporate boardrooms. They treat our data as a raw material to be extracted, which is a modern version of the old enclosures that fenced off the physical commons centuries ago. By self-hosting, we are rejecting this new feudalism. We are stating that our words and connections are not commodities to be monetised by billionaires.

    This is especially vital as we enter the era of AI. If AI is going to eliminate jobs, we have to ask what the new economy will actually look like. In a world where human labour is replaced by machine intelligence, data becomes the primary resource. It is the fuel that runs the entire system. The question of who controls that data is the question of who holds the power in a post-scarcity world.

    In his 1930 essay, “Economic Possibilities for Our Grandchildren,” John Maynard Keynes predicted that by 2030, technological progress would allow us to work only fifteen hours per week. He believed we would have solved the “economic problem” and would instead be grappling with how to spend our newfound leisure time. We are almost at that 2030 deadline, yet the fifteen-hour week feels further away than ever.

    Replacing work should be a good thing. Most people only work because they are paid to do so. But Keynes’s vision failed because the gains from productivity were not distributed; they were captured. If the data that powers the AI future stays in private hands, we will not get leisure. We will get a deeper kind of dependency. Reclaiming our data is the first step in ensuring that a world without work is a world of freedom, not just one of mass unemployment and corporate control.

    There is a misconception that data sovereignty is only for the technical elite. That is no longer the case. The tools to reclaim your data, such as the open-source platform Nextcloud, are now mature and accessible to anyone with a little curiosity. You do not need a computer science degree to stop being a product.

    Admittedly, it is a little less convenient. You have to manage your own backups and occasionally learn how a new piece of software works. However, that small amount of friction is worth the reward. It is the difference between buying a microwave meal and cooking from scratch. When you cook for yourself, you know exactly what is in the pot. You know where the ingredients came from, and you are no longer at the mercy of a corporation’s supply chain.

    You also get to eat in peace. When you host your own services, the advertising disappears. You are no longer being shouted at by brands or tracked by algorithms trying to sell you back a version of yourself. You gain a sense of resilience, a cleaner digital environment, and a deeper understanding of the tools you use every day.

    There is also a hidden environmental cost to the Big Tech model. Because their business relies on extracting and storing every possible scrap of our data to train AI, they have built an infrastructure that is staggeringly wasteful. These data centres consume vast amounts of power and water just to maintain the digital landfill they use for profit. Choosing to self-host is a way to reject that waste. It allows for a more conscious, lean way to live online. When you only host what you actually need, you are practising a form of digital conservation. It is a radical choice that proves “small is beautiful” applies just as much to our servers as it does to our communities.

    My resolution for 2026 is to stop being a digital tenant and become an owner. In a world where every part of our identity is for sale, keeping something for yourself is a revolutionary act.

    Oh, and I’m quitting vaping too, because one form of cloud hosting is probably enough for one year.

  • Smart Enough

    Soundtrack to this post.

    It is raining in Paisley again. A grey, steady drizzle that seems to have set in for the winter.

    I checked the time a moment ago. 7:34 pm.

    I didn’t check it on a screen. I didn’t have to wake a device up, or swipe past a notification about a breaking news story, or see an email I didn’t want to deal with. I just looked at my wrist.

    It was my Casio F-91W.

    I’ve written about this watch before. It costs thirteen quid from Argos. It looks exactly the same as it did in 1991. It tells the time, lights up (badly) if you press a button, and has a stopwatch I rarely use. That is it.

    Lately, though, I have started to see this little piece of resin and plastic as something more than just a retro accessory. I see it as a political statement.

    The Trap of the Upgrade

    We live in an economy built on dissatisfaction. The entire tech industry is designed to make us feel that what we have is old, slow, or broken.

    Batteries are glued in so we can’t replace them. Software updates slow down perfectly good hardware. We are nudged, gently but constantly, to throw away the old and buy the new.

    The environmental cost of this is staggering. The rare earth minerals dug out of the ground, the energy used in manufacturing, the shipping, and finally the e-waste pile where our “old” gadgets go to die after two years.

    It is a cycle of churn that is burning the planet.

    Durability as Defiance

    A close-up of a Casio F-91W digital watch on a wrist, fitted with a black fabric strap. The LCD display reads "TH 27" and the time is 19:34. In the background, a laptop keyboard and wireless mouse sit on a wooden desk.
    “Smart Enough” by Douglas Ireland is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0.

    This is where the Casio comes in.

    The battery in this watch will last seven years. Maybe ten. When it runs out, I can unscrew the back and put a new one in for pennies. It is not designed to be thrown away. It is designed to work.

    Wearing it feels like a small act of resistance.

    It is a rejection of the idea that everything needs to be “smart.” I don’t need my watch to track my heart rate or tell me the weather or sell me things. I just need it to tell me when it is time to put the tea on.

    There is a concept in Green politics called the Right to Repair. It is the idea that we should legally require companies to make things that last and things we can fix ourselves. It is a massive, necessary shift in how we handle resources.

    But we don’t have to wait for legislation to start living it.

    Enough is Enough

    Choosing “dumb” tech is a way of saying enough.

    Enough noise. Enough tracking. Enough waste.

    It is about finding satisfaction in utility rather than novelty. It is about respecting the materials things are made of, rather than treating them as disposable.

    So yes, it is just a cheap watch. But on a rainy evening in Scotland, with the world trying to sell me everything I don’t need, it feels like the most valuable thing I own.