A costly winter looms. How much will the West be willing to sacrifice?
| Forest-sur-Marque, France
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has turned long-held assumptions about access to cheap energy upside down.
In Europe, inflation is squeezing consumers, who are already worried about a possible global recession, just as energy prices are skyrocketing with the looming arrival of winter. Governments scrambling to shore up energy supplies are asking individuals, companies, and communities for sacrifices that are unfamiliar to generations of Europeans.
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onIn Europe, a civic responsibility ethos is taking hold as residents dim lights and lower thermostats to confront brewing economic and energy crises. Across the Atlantic, Americans are taking a more individualistic approach to resilience.
A sense of common solidarity is driving many Europeans to turn down thermostats, don sweaters, or even take on the night shift so their companies can save on energy costs. In France, Strasbourg’s renowned Christmas market has fewer lights. Next door, Berlin has launched a series of ad campaigns encouraging the public to cut consumption.
In the United States, farther from the epicenter of the scarcity crisis, conservation is a tougher sell. But high energy prices are still hitting American pocketbooks, and the convergence of challenges is galvanizing people to rethink some habits as the larger climate crisis looms.
“Conflict, wars, rationing, things simply not being available – that’s something that’s essentially alien to the American historical experience,” says Ian Lesser, executive director of the Brussels office of the German Marshall Fund.
But, he adds, with the pandemic as well as the current challenge of energy insecurity and high inflation, “it may be that America and Europe actually converge in their approaches over time.”
This tiny hamlet of 1,400 in northern France is shrouded in silence by 9 p.m. on winter nights. At that hour, most residents are putting their children to bed or settling on the couch after a hard day’s work.
But not Rémi Pantalacci.
These days he is just clocking in, walking through the bamboo-lined entrance of Pocheco, an eco-friendly envelope manufacturer established here in 1928. In October, his boss asked production staffers if they would be willing to switch to the night shift in order to cut costs for the company, as energy prices have soared across Europe. Mr. Pantalacci immediately raised his hand.
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onIn Europe, a civic responsibility ethos is taking hold as residents dim lights and lower thermostats to confront brewing economic and energy crises. Across the Atlantic, Americans are taking a more individualistic approach to resilience.
Like the others who volunteered to make the change, he gets a bonus. He says he’s drawn to the personal growth inherent in working overnight, which requires more autonomy in problem-solving. But he is also responding to a deeper sense of civic responsibility to help confront the brewing economic and energy crises in Europe.
“In this current climate, we’re in a period of uncertainty. No one can say how long it’s going to last,” he says as he takes up his post, meticulously straightening each cardboard box of envelopes before sending them along a rhythmically clicking conveyor belt.
Russia’s invasion of Ukraine is presenting parts of the West with some of the biggest challenges since World War II. Long-held assumptions about access to cheap energy have been turned upside down.
Inflation is squeezing consumers, who are already worried about a possible global recession, just as energy prices are skyrocketing with the looming arrival of winter in Europe and North America. Governments scrambling to shore up energy supplies are asking individuals, companies, and communities for sacrifices – from shorter showers to revamped work schedules – that are unfamiliar to generations of Europeans.
In the United States, farther from the epicenter of the scarcity crisis, conservation is a much tougher sell. But high energy prices are still hitting American pocketbooks, and the convergence of challenges is galvanizing people to rethink driving habits and thermostat settings as a larger climate crisis looms in the background.
From northern France to the heart of Germany to a corner of New England, a new ethos around personal and civic responsibility is evolving as citizens brace for the onslaught of winter amid global shortages and a brutal war.
“Countries and individuals start to react in different ways under stress,” says Ian Lesser, executive director of the Brussels office of the German Marshall Fund.
The immediacy of the energy, inflation, and security crises is much more striking in Europe. It is drawing out values more closely aligned with environmental conservation than in America, where people default more to individual freedoms and risk-taking. But Americans are reacting, too, in ways that are both different from and similar to Europeans.
“Conflict, wars, rationing, things simply not being available – that’s something that’s essentially alien to the American historical experience,” says Dr. Lesser.
But, he adds, with the pandemic as well as the current challenge of energy insecurity and high inflation, “it may be that America and Europe actually converge in their approaches over time.”
In France, people will have to get used to not washing their hands with hot water in public restrooms. It simply won’t be available anymore.
The government of President Emmanuel Macron is calling for a series of “sobriety measures” as part of a plan to reduce the nation’s energy bill by 10% over two years. The strategy is multifaceted, depending on the actions of policymakers, politicians, and citizens alike.
Besides turning off the hot spigot in public bathrooms, the federal government has asked residents to keep their home thermostats at 19 degrees Celsius, or 66 degrees Fahrenheit. Gymnasiums will replace regular lighting with energy-efficient LED bulbs.
In Strasbourg, officials say they intend to reduce the electricity bill of their world-renowned annual Christmas market by 10% as well. They will take down some lighting, recycle natural waste, and close the market one hour early each night.
This partial blackout has alarmed French server Constance Ernwein. The restaurant where she works, tucked into a winding twist of cobblestone in Strasbourg, serves the Alsatian specialty tarte flambé, a pizzalike pastry drenched in ham and cream. She worries about walking home in the dark, now that public lighting is being reduced.
Like several cities in France, Strasbourg – the seat of the European Parliament – decided in late October to shut off most streetlights overnight to save energy. City officials hope that by limiting lighting from 1 a.m. to 5 a.m., they can reduce the energy bill by 10% in 2023.
“So there’s almost no light on my way home,” says Ms. Ernwein, as she rushes around wooden tables on a recent evening, a cream-colored headband keeping hair out of her face. “It’s lots of little streets.”
At least she can call her boyfriend to accompany her home. But that doesn’t solve her other worry: the home electricity bill.
Since working to pivot almost overnight from dependence on Russian fossil fuels, Europe has been scrambling to shore up alternative supplies and protect consumers from price hikes.
The good news is that, heading into winter, gas reserves across Europe are largely full, with governments reaching targets ahead of time, according to Gas Infrastructure Europe, an industry group. Analysts don’t expect the need for rationing as was once feared, in part because late fall weather across Europe was unseasonably warm.
Yet as the Northern Hemisphere heads into the coldest, darkest months, prices are likely to continue to rise, and it’s unclear government help will come quickly enough, much less last as long as it needs to.
Electricity prices in October compared with the year before have increased dramatically, ranging from double in Berlin to triple in Rome. Meanwhile, natural gas prices for households have gone up 300% in Vienna, Rome, and Berlin, according to the Household Energy Price Index. And with half of its nuclear power supply shut off, France is bracing itself for possible blackouts this winter.
Like many other European governments, including in Italy and Spain, President Macron’s administration announced caps on power and gas prices. Increases will be limited to 15% for households starting in January – a measure that will cost the state €16 billion ($16.7 billion) but will prevent individual energy bills from doubling.
“We are determined ... to act, adapt, and protect the French people and our economy,” French Prime Minister Élisabeth Borne said in September.
For households particularly hard-hit, government assistance is unlikely to offset the full cost of increases this winter. So Ms. Ernwein, for one, is taking shorter showers and throwing a duvet around her shoulders while keeping the thermostat low at home.
She isn’t alone. Philip Golub, a professor of political science at the American University of Paris, says that many French are being asked to make sacrifices. “A large number of people who represent the middle and lower classes are in a very vulnerable situation due to the energy crisis,” he says.
Class struggle has always been a central element of the modern French state. Yet after World War II and the institutionalization of state welfare, a greater sense of social cohesion and economic security took hold. The erosion of the welfare system over the past four decades, Dr. Golub says, is the main source of broad social grievances today. And the inflation and energy crises may exacerbate those tensions.
While Europe has rallied around Ukraine in the name of democracy and sovereignty, the solidarity might not be enough to stave off a sense of injustice at home over time, Dr. Golub says. Already, France was rocked by general strikes in October and November, with workers demanding higher wages. Purchasing power in the country also fell to its lowest level in 30 years in the first six months of 2022.
“Solidarity and social cohesiveness, the notion of a common struggle, depends and requires that there be justice in the distribution of the sacrifices and costs,” Dr. Golub says.
Germany, too, is trying to rally its citizens to help cope with a looming winter of discontent.
When planning began in Berlin for the city’s 2022 Festival of Lights and its 3 million visitors, energy was cheap and Russia hadn’t yet invaded Ukraine. But as the event approached its 18th annual go-round this October, it became clear that an immense public display of wintertime energy consumption would send the wrong signal.
“Business as usual is not the right thing to do,” says Birgit Zander, founder and CEO of the festival. “It was our responsibility to try something new. It was our duty to put everything into the effort to save energy.”
Festival organizers abandoned concepts that were months in the making. They connected with artists who incorporated LED lights in their works, cut an hour off opening times, and reduced the number of locations participating in activities. Instead of fully illuminating the ever-popular Berlin Cathedral, organizers flew lighted birdlike paragliders overhead. For 10 nights, the sky was transformed into an aerial aquarium and aviary. In all, the festival’s innovations slashed energy consumption 75% over 2021.
“It wasn’t easy, but in the end, it was possible,” says Ms. Zander. “This new edition is responsible, sustainable, and innovative. We brought something beautiful, enjoyable, and free to the people – but with a high level of responsibility.”
The German government, like the French, is trying to tap into a public sense of duty as winter arrives. Berlin has launched a series of ad campaigns encouraging the public to cut consumption. German economy and energy minister Robert Habeck has urged companies to allow employees to work from home one or two days a week to eliminate commutes.
“Every kilometer not driven is a contribution to making it easier to get away from Russian energy supplies,” said Mr. Habeck in October. No recommendation is too small: The energy minister has suggested people defrost their freezers to run more efficiently and install low-flow shower heads.
Governments are taking their own steps to curb energy use as well. Federal lawmakers passed a set of ordinances mandating energy-saving steps for public buildings and companies. The Berlin Senate, the executive body that oversees the city, is trying to cut public sector consumption by 10%. It is nudging libraries, courthouses, and government buildings to lower temperatures, idle hot water heaters, turn off outdoor lights, and switch to more efficient bulbs.
As the winter solstice nears, two of the city’s most iconic sites – the Berlin TV Tower, built by East Germany in the 1960s as a symbol of communist power, and the Brandenburg Gate – will remain unlit.
“It is a matter of credibility for politicians if they make a visible effort to set good examples in their own area,” says Bettina Jarasch, deputy mayor of Berlin and senator of environmental affairs. “This is the only way to appeal to a sense of personal responsibility for citizens.”
The conservation efforts appear to be working. Gas consumption in Germany in October was down by roughly half for households and small businesses over the same period a year ago.
At the same time, Germany, as the European Union’s wealthiest country, is using its massive borrowing power to subsidize its own industries and citizens to shield them from rising energy costs. The federal government will pick up the monthly gas bill in December for all households and most enterprises in the country, as well as offer further financial assistance over the next 14 to 16 months. The price tag to the state: roughly €91 billion ($95 billion).
Rising utility bills are threatening many of Germany’s small- to medium-sized enterprises, the backbone of the economy, with layoffs and bankruptcies. While the government aid will help, it could have a deleterious effect: It insulates people and businesses from the rising prices that might spur conservation.
“Conversations about energy are very uncomfortable because people want comfort and quality of life; they don’t want to think about coal,” says Marine Cornelis, an energy policy consultant based in Turin, Italy. “But when you do start thinking about energy as something you have to pay for, and it’s expensive, then you save energy. That’s not really happening with the subsidies.”
On the other hand, there are limits to how much people want to sacrifice. Some Germans are already chafing at a few conservation suggestions. In August, Winfried Kretschmann, a Green Party politician and president of the German state Baden-Württemberg, threw out this idea to cut energy usage: “You don’t have to shower all the time. The washcloth is also a useful invention.”
He was widely ridiculed online.
This was precisely the kind of tart response that hampered another Western leader in his conservation efforts in a different era. Two weeks after being sworn in as U.S. president in 1977, Jimmy Carter donned a beige cardigan in the White House during a wintertime fireside chat as a symbolic gesture to encourage a more parsimonious ethos.
He had plenty of rationale for making the plea, coming after the Arab oil embargo and a decade of rampant inflation.
But many Americans refused to hear the message – a cultural inclination that is as much a force today as it was 45 years ago.
Back then, the U.S. faced serious shortages. Today the country is a net energy exporter: It doesn’t face the tight supplies that Europe does, or the direct security threat posed by Russia.
Yet many of the American traits – a penchant for big cars, a sense of individualism, a reluctance to accept limits – remain, which helps explain why the conservation efforts in Europe may not be widely embraced here.
“To live in a colder house or to have less electricity or less enjoyment of life, to get into small cars or to drive at slower speeds, is politically unpopular,” says Kevin Book, co-founder of ClearView Energy Partners, a Washington, D.C.-based research firm that examines energy trends and comparative political outcomes. “We like using energy freely. It’s part of our national identity.”
This year marks the 75th anniversary of the Marshall Plan, the U.S.-funded effort to help rebuild Western Europe after World War II. And while European society is far removed from an era of rationing and hardship, the experience generations ago still shapes its value systems today.
The EU tends to be more cautious and risk-averse than the U.S., says Dr. Lesser in Brussels. Its lack of a startup culture can hold the Continent back. But its embrace of a more collective approach and willingness to confront long-term problems have their benefits. Environmental concerns, for instance, have been part of mainstream discourse longer in Europe than they have been in the U.S. With inflation, energy concerns, and the pandemic, says Dr. Lesser, Europeans are asking more fundamental questions about how much growth is really necessary in society. Conversely, in the U.S., growth and prosperity are often taken for granted as a starting point, he says.
Yet Americans are hardly immune to sacrificing for the collective good in a time of hardship.
Inside a white 18th-century church in Hanover, New Hampshire, Linda Gray bounces from station to station, monitoring teams of volunteers as they wrap wooden frames in double-sided tape.
She approaches the far corner of the reception room at the Church of Christ, where two sweater-clad women are heating sheets of plastic wrap with hair dryers as they’re stretched over the frames. They will be used as window inserts to help eliminate costly winter drafts.
“In the back room we have coffee and tea,” Ms. Gray tells them cheerfully.
As a member of a local energy committee in Norwich, Vermont, she, along with others, organized this event across the Connecticut River to help New Englanders with poorly insulated homes cut their utility bills.
Across the U.S., average costs for home heating are expected to rise 17% this winter, according to the National Energy Assistance Directors Association. New England is among the nation’s regions most vulnerable to global energy volatility because of its dependence on foreign imports. For the most destitute people, winter could represent more than an annoyance at the gas pump.
“I am concerned that, as we get deeper into the colder months, people may have to make a choice between buying groceries or heating their homes,” says Tracy Hutchins, executive director of the Upper Valley Business Alliance, a regional chamber of commerce in Hanover.
The workshop on this day dates back to a legacy put in place across New England nearly a half-century ago. In Vermont, local officials established municipal energy coordinators to help deal with the aftermath of the 1973 Arab oil embargo.
Today that network has evolved into hundreds of energy committees operating across New England.
Their work, now driven largely by the climate crisis, can feel small against the magnitude of the challenge. But Ms. Gray thinks of her role as a “modest multiplier.”
“In a house that hasn’t done any of this, this is a help, a way for us to start talking to them and start getting them interested in it,” she says.
Their solutions are in high demand today, since some New Englanders have already seen energy bills spike more than 50%. Local energy committees have been helping libraries install heat pumps and low-income families weatherize their homes.
The workshop today is a partnership between local energy leaders and the Maine-based nonprofit WindowDressers, which has distributed more than 48,000 inserts to New England homes since 2010.
For Geoff Martin, a regional energy coordinator in Vermont, the work is not just about utility bills or the coming winter.
“Climate change is one of the biggest issues that we’re facing, and ultimately is going to impact the poorest and most vulnerable the most. ... If towns are able to help their community members lower their energy use and lower their emissions, I think that just builds momentum, and hopefully it has an impact eventually on a global scale,” he says.
Building momentum is the aspiration back in Forest-sur-Marque.
Pocheco, the envelope company, normally spends around €100,000 annually on energy, but this year its utility bills could triple. Changing some work shifts to overnight, when electricity is cheaper, and shutting off machines completely for several days in January during annual price spikes will help trim costs.
Pocheco President Emmanuel Druon has said the overnights shifts are only temporary, but align with longer-term efforts. Mr. Druon, who took over from his father 25 years ago, has based his company on the principles of “ecolonomy”– the idea that being ecologically friendly actually makes companies more economically resilient.
Solar panels cover the top of the main building, which is constructed of larch – a wood that is naturally resistant to parasites and does not need to be treated with harsh products. A rooftop garden lines the annex and continuously collects rainwater, which is used in the bathrooms and to wash the machines and floors.
These efforts aren’t just a passion project, says Mr. Druon, but a way to stay ahead of potential challenges and future crises.
“I’m not optimistic or pessimistic [ahead of the energy crisis], but we are prepared. ... I can’t say we’re completely sheltered from the crisis, but with all of our knowledge, we’ve put together all possible measures to weather the storm.”
That wouldn’t be possible without the sacrifices taken by workers such as Mr. Pantalacci, who discussed the decision to change schedules at length with his wife before finally committing to the 9 p.m. to 5 a.m. shift.
“At first, it was a little strange,” he says. “It’s always a little weird to leave the house in the dark, but once I get here, I forget about it.”
His wife works a different schedule, starting at 6 a.m., so they only overlap during the late afternoon and early evening hours. “Each of us has had to find our footing. But we’ve found a balance,” says Mr. Pantalacci. “There’s always something we can do to help.”
