Infrastructure

Recent declassified documents reviewed by the Financial Times reveal that in the 1990s, the UK Treasury explicitly judged that the Elizabeth Line “would never be built.” The reasons cited are all too familiar: exorbitant costs, overestimated demand, and the impossibility of private funding bearing the risks. Thirty years later, not only has this railway been completed, but it has also quickly become one of London’s busiest transport arteries. This stark contrast is not merely a single misjudgment but a reflection of systemic thinking.

The Elizabeth Line is not an isolated case. The planning history of the M25 motorway is equally revealing. At the time, there was a serious official viewpoint that the entire orbital motorway around London only required dual carriageways, based on the assumption that car growth would slow, cross-traffic would be limited, and that roads themselves would not create new demand. These assumptions seemed prudent and even rational at the time, yet they overlooked structural changes such as urban expansion, longer commuting distances, and the rapid growth of logistics activities. Today, the M25 is chronically congested, serving as the best counter-evidence to the underestimated demand of that era.

The same logic of “better to underestimate than to err” has repeatedly appeared in the history of UK infrastructure. The Channel Tunnel faced fierce criticism during its conception and promotion phases, labeled as a financial black hole, with opponents questioning its ability to break even and fearing the political repercussions of failure. Initially, the tunnel did indeed face financial difficulties, but as freight demand increased, air travel became restricted, and supply chains were restructured, its strategic value far exceeded any early models could have predicted.

Heathrow’s Terminal 5 reveals another misjudgment. Many at the time believed that air travel growth was unsustainable, predicting that the new terminal would remain underutilized and exacerbate environmental pressures. In reality, the terminal opened at full capacity, and the UK has long been constrained by insufficient airport capacity, hampering economic growth and international connectivity. The issue has never been about building too much, but rather about building too late.

The stories of the Overground and Jubilee Line further illustrate the blind spots of traditional fiscal assessments. The former was seen as a fragmented and marginal railway network prior to its overhaul, with returns difficult to quantify and lacking a grand narrative, thus long overlooked as a priority project. However, after service improvements and system integration, ridership surged, reshaping commuting patterns and community structures. The latter faced criticism when extended to Canary Wharf as a gamble on an unproven financial district, yet it was precisely because of the railway’s arrival that the area was able to take shape. Urban development often requires infrastructure to precede demand, rather than waiting for it to prove itself.

The book “Why Westminster Works and Why It Doesn’t” provides a crucial institutional explanation for this series of phenomena. It points out that the UK’s governance system is highly centralized around the Treasury, which wields significant horizontal influence; nearly all large, cross-departmental, long-term policies must pass through its scrutiny. This system operates effectively in avoiding immediate errors and maintaining procedural order, but it simultaneously creates a structural bias: it prioritizes risks that can be immediately held accountable while struggling to address dispersed, delayed, and difficult-to-attribute long-term costs.

The book does not blame officials for incompetence; on the contrary, it describes a system dominated by highly educated and analytically capable bureaucrats. The issue lies not in their irrationality but in the system encouraging them to use models, procedures, and audit standards to avoid mistakes rather than to take on the risks that require political judgment across generations and are fraught with uncertainty. In such an environment, “doing nothing” is often safer than “doing something wrong,” while the costs of delay are rarely formally calculated.

This encapsulates the true meaning of “better to do nothing than to do wrong.” It is not laziness or conspiracy, but rather a highly rational yet systematically underestimation of the future. However, the history of infrastructure repeatedly demonstrates that what is truly expensive is not erroneous investments but prolonged hesitation. When roads, railways, and airports are finally forced to be built, the costs are already higher, and the options are fewer.

If the UK genuinely wishes to break this cycle, the reform must extend beyond a single railway or motorway; it must encompass the entire culture of public investment. Infrastructure assessments need to incorporate the costs of inaction, systemic effects, and the long-term demand they induce into their core considerations, allowing “doing versus not doing” to be measured on the same timescale. Otherwise, “better to do nothing” will remain the safest choice, but it will also continue to be the UK’s most costly habit.

The West Somerset Lagoon is a large tidal lagoon power generation project planned for the southwestern coast of the UK, situated between Minehead and Watchet along the Bristol Channel. The concept involves constructing a curved breakwater near the shore to enclose a body of water, utilizing the difference in water levels between the lagoon and the open sea during tidal changes to drive turbines for electricity generation. It falls under tidal range generation rather than tidal stream generation, relying on sea level fluctuations rather than water flow speed. The project’s proponents have attached an appealing label: an installed capacity of approximately 2.5 GW, an annual generation of about 6.5 TWh, zero carbon emissions, and independence from weather conditions, with a theoretical lifespan exceeding a century.

Such claims resonate because they hit the pain points of the UK’s energy transition. As the proportion of wind and solar power continues to rise, the grid is becoming increasingly unstable; the greatest strength of tidal energy is its high predictability. Tidal changes are determined by astronomical factors, allowing generation periods to be scheduled years in advance, unaffected by calm winds or cloudy days. For a grid that requires long-term planning for backup capacity, this certainty is inherently valuable.

However, when one examines the physical realities, the project’s role becomes clearer and less ideal. Tides do not follow a daily cycle but rather a semi-diurnal pattern, with a cycle of approximately 12 hours and 25 minutes. The lagoon generates electricity for about 10 to 14 hours each day, but not continuously; instead, it is divided into four segments and shifts backward each day. Today, it may generate in the evening, but a few days later, it may shift to late at night. This means it cannot naturally align with human peak electricity usage times, remaining fundamentally a high-quality but rhythmically fixed intermittent power source.

Some have suggested that by integrating battery storage, this rhythm could be ‘smoothed out’, making tidal power as stable as nuclear energy. While this is not impossible from an engineering perspective, it is economically prohibitive. To convert the lagoon’s output into nearly round-the-clock supply would require tens of GWh of storage, and batteries have a lifespan of only about ten years, far short of the lagoon’s claimed lifespan of 120 years. The result would be an already capital-intensive project compounded by another capital black hole that requires frequent replacements.

What truly weighs down this proposal is its financial structure. The characteristics of a tidal lagoon involve extremely high upfront costs, a long construction period, and indivisibility. This means it is nearly impossible to finance through competitive Contracts for Difference (CfD) and must rely on a Regulated Asset Base (RAB) model, which incorporates some construction risks into electricity prices to secure lower financing costs. In institutional terms, it resembles nuclear power rather than typical renewable energy projects. Discussions inevitably turn to Sizewell C, as both share similar risk-bearing mechanisms.

However, the key difference lies in necessity. The government’s decision to advance Sizewell C stems from the current scarcity of low-carbon power sources that do not rely on weather or storage and can provide long-term continuous supply. Nuclear power is not an ideal solution but is viewed as temporarily indispensable. In contrast, the Somerset tidal lagoon offers predictable intermittency, a function that could theoretically be replaced by a combination of offshore wind, storage, demand management, and transmission upgrades. This is not a matter of technical superiority but rather a question of policy prioritization.

Adding to this are considerations of environmental impact and irreversibility, making the issue even sharper. Once the lagoon is constructed, there is virtually no turning back. The impacts on sediment, ecology, and coastal dynamics must be rigorously verified in advance, rather than remedied afterward. The true risk of such projects has never been about whether they will generate power, but rather whether the costs of a mistaken judgment are bearable.

Therefore, the Somerset tidal lagoon is neither a castle in the air nor a panacea. It possesses unique value, but only if positioned correctly as a piece of the energy grid puzzle, rather than being expected to serve as a substitute for nuclear power. The energy transition has never been about choosing the most appealing narrative, but rather about selecting the least bad order under real-world conditions. If the tidal lagoon is to endure, it must first be viewed with a clear and rational perspective.

The UK’s third largest indoor performance venue is taking shape in North Filton, Bristol. This is not just a blueprint; it is a project that has been approved and is currently underway.

The YTL Arena, located in northern Bristol, is designed to accommodate 20,000 spectators. In terms of seating capacity, it ranks third among indoor venues in the UK, alongside London’s O2 Arena, and is only surpassed by Manchester’s Co-op Live and Manchester Arena. In other words, one of the four largest indoor performance venues in the UK is not in London or Manchester, but in Bristol.

How significant is a capacity of 20,000? The Hong Kong Coliseum, when full, accommodates only 12,500 people, which is already considered a top-tier venue in Asia, yet it is still markedly smaller than the YTL Arena. This capacity is sufficient to host major global tours, large sporting events, and comprehensive entertainment activities, allowing Bristol to finally meet the criteria to become a ‘first-stop city’ rather than merely an alternative option on tour routes.

The YTL Arena is part of the broader redevelopment of Brabazon, spearheaded by Malaysia’s YTL Corporation. This is not an isolated venue; it is integrated into a long-term urban project that includes residential, commercial, educational, and public spaces. It is currently expected to open around 2028, aligning with the maturation timeline of the entire new district.

Transportation infrastructure is also crucial. The North Filton railway station, which is being developed in tandem with the venue, along with the nearby Bristol Parkway, will connect the national rail network directly to the core of the new district, ensuring that the influx of visitors for large events can be accommodated by the regular transport system rather than relying on temporary arrangements.

The economic benefits are also quite clear. During both the construction and operational phases, the YTL Arena will create thousands of direct and indirect jobs and, through performances, tourism, hotel stays, and dining expenditures, will generate hundreds of millions of pounds in economic activity for North Filton each year. This is not a one-off event; it represents a long-term enhancement of urban functionality.

North Filton is steadily positioning itself at the forefront of the UK’s cultural landscape through its capacity, transportation, and timing.

The stagnation of gas pipeline networks is not a problem unique to any one country; rather, it is a structural dilemma faced by the entire developed world. Europe, North America, Australia, and Japan—all regions that laid extensive urban gas networks in the 20th century—now find themselves at the same crossroads. The question is not whether to dismantle these systems, but rather when, how, and who will bear the costs.

In a truly decarbonized energy system, the combustion of fossil fuels has no reasonable place. This is not an ideological debate; it is a matter of physical law. Regardless of whether gas is sourced from underground or repackaged as ‘low-carbon’, its combustion inevitably results in greenhouse gas emissions. Fortunately, mature and superior alternatives already exist for residential and commercial buildings: heat pumps can amplify one unit of electricity into three to four units of heat, while induction stoves eliminate indoor pollution, offering efficiency, safety, and health benefits that far surpass those of gas. Energy transition does not mean a reduction in quality of life; rather, it signifies the obsolescence of a technically outdated system.

Consequently, the trend of users ‘jumping ship’ is inevitable. As households and businesses gradually shift towards full electrification, they not only save on energy costs per kWh but also avoid the fixed charges embedded in their gas bills that pay for the entire network. The result is that as users decrease, the network costs per household increase; higher costs drive away even more potential users. This death spiral is not a market failure; it is the natural conclusion of infrastructure that has lost its justification for existence.

Some may argue that if this is the case, why not delay the transition as much as possible? However, this is precisely the most dangerous choice. If gas networks are not phased out, humanity must continue to rely heavily on fossil fuels, pushing the global warming trajectory towards 3 °C or even higher. This would not merely represent a failure to meet abstract climate targets; it would lead to concrete and brutal systemic disasters: extreme heat becoming the norm, reduced agricultural yields, disrupted water resources, coastal cities forced to retreat, and the economic and social costs far exceeding the expense of decommissioning any gas pipeline. In contrast, dismantling the network is not radical; it is rational.

The truly challenging issue lies in how to transition fairly. Gas pipelines cannot be shut down overnight, as many households will still depend on them for basic heating and hot water in the short to medium term. If left entirely to market forces, the last remaining users—often the most vulnerable with the least choices—will bear the highest costs. This is why the retirement of gas infrastructure cannot be merely a commercial outcome; it must become a part of public policy. The costs of stranded assets must be paid regardless; the only difference is whether they are distributed in a planned manner or explode uncontrollably later on.

Thus, the conclusion is clear and rational. First, the expansion of gas distribution networks should be halted immediately to avoid creating assets that are bound to be scrapped. Second, a predictable and enforceable decommissioning timetable should be established, synchronizing the sealing and dismantling of pipelines with the rollout of alternatives like heat pumps and building energy efficiency measures. Third, policy tools should be employed to ensure that the costs of transition do not disproportionately burden the last remaining households still using gas.

Gas pipelines must eventually be phased out; this is not an option but a prerequisite. The real choice left is whether to dismantle them in an orderly fashion now or to pay a heavier and more inequitable price after climate chaos ensues.

The South Wales Metro serves not just a single city, but an entire region of suburbs historically trapped in stagnation: the South Wales Valleys. These valley towns, located north of Cardiff, include Merthyr Tydfil, Rhondda, Treherbert, Aberdare, Pontypridd, Caerphilly, and Rhymney. They thrived during the coal industry boom but were left behind as coal mining declined.

These areas have long been labeled as “low productivity regions,” but the issue lies not with the people, but with transportation. Sparse schedules and high costs of delays deter employers from hiring those who “live too far away,” while employees hesitate to seek jobs across districts. Although the straight-line distance may be short, commuting times can be lengthy, resulting in a natural contraction of the labor market, with opportunities lost to time.

The South Wales Metro aims to reframe these valleys as part of the Cardiff metropolitan area. Unlike London or Manchester, which radiate outward from a single city, it seeks to stitch together a loose, fragmented suburban network. The focus is not on speed but on frequency and reliability. When rail services are as dependable as the metro, people can confidently invest their time in work and life.

Such a transformation will directly reflect on productivity. An expanded commuting radius naturally increases the pool of human resources available to businesses; enhanced labor mobility improves the efficiency of job and skill matching; for small and medium enterprises, punctuality and reliability are competitive advantages. Productivity is never an abstract concept; it is the cumulative result of whether one can arrive on time each day.

Changes in usage patterns are equally important. The introduction of tap-in gates means that taking the train no longer requires prior research into ticket types and time slots; boarding, alighting, and automatic fare calculation become seamless. When rail travel shifts from a “planned” mode of transport to an everyday tool, actual usage rates naturally rise, thereby enhancing labor market fluidity.

On a technical level, the introduction of tram-trains allows this system to connect not only towns but also to penetrate communities. It can operate on existing railways and extend into urban activity zones, reducing friction from the last mile. For the valley towns, this often proves crucial for truly unlocking labor potential.

This project has reached its current stage due to historical context. During the UK’s EU membership, the preliminary planning and some infrastructure of the South Wales Metro received structural funding support. The underlying logic is straightforward: to enhance regional productivity, transportation infrastructure must come first.

The South Wales Metro is not a project completed overnight but is being advanced in phases. New trains, increased service frequency, and ticketing integration have gradually been implemented in recent years; with the introduction of tram-trains, the system’s critical capabilities are expected to fully materialize around 2026.

With the railways operational, whether South Wales can truly turn the tide remains to be seen. However, at least this time, the issues are no longer attributed to individuals but are beginning to be addressed as structural problems.

The opening of the Central Kowloon Route’s Yau Ma Tei section marks the completion of a tunnel, but it represents much more: a long-awaited release of pressure from the congested traffic structure in Kowloon. This project is not about speed; rather, it is a fundamental infrastructure initiative aimed at diverting traffic from the surface and redistributing urban space. Though it has taken time, it is progressing in the right direction.

This road was not a spur-of-the-moment decision. The concept of the Central Kowloon Route emerged as early as the 1990s, receiving official approval in 2016 and commencing construction in 2017. Its purpose has always been clear: to serve as a core component of Route 6, connecting Yau Ma Tei, Kai Tak, and Kwun Tong, with future links to Tseung Kwan O. The goal is not merely to alleviate congestion on a single road but to address the structural issues stemming from Kowloon’s long-term reliance on surface roads that interfere with one another.

The true test of engineering capability lies in the Yau Ma Tei section. The tunnel runs beneath a densely populated old district, with residential buildings, major roads, and public facilities above, including the vital Queen Elizabeth Hospital. To avoid impacting the hospital’s sensitive equipment and patient safety, certain blasting operations were strictly limited to designated time slots, with actual operational windows lasting only about 15 minutes. This is not a matter of inefficiency but a reflection of urban realities, where public safety must take precedence over expediency.

Simultaneously, the tunnel had to avoid the MTR structures, with some sections dangerously close to active railways, precluding conventional blasting techniques. Instead, low-vibration, slow methods were employed. This meant that progress could not be hastened by simply adding more workers or shifts; it relied on meticulous planning and disciplined execution.

The surface works were equally challenging. To accommodate the tunnel’s alignment and road restructuring, the multi-storey car park building in Yau Ma Tei, which spans the road and integrates with elevated roads, needed to be demolished. Such old layered infrastructure, once construction begins, triggers a chain reaction affecting not just a single building but also traffic rerouting, structural resets, and community adaptation. Completing this without causing long-term chaos reflects a high level of engineering management maturity.

In terms of outcomes, the opening of this section deserves positive recognition. The Yau Ma Tei section is set to open by the end of 2025, without major safety incidents or catastrophic delays, which is commendable. Regarding costs, the government has yet to release final audit figures, but overall expenses remain broadly within the original estimates, showing no signs of structural overspending.

Of course, this does not mean that Route 6 is complete. The remaining sections connecting Kai Tak, Kwun Tong, and Tseung Kwan O are still under construction, and the full benefits of the corridor will only be realized once it is entirely connected. However, the completion of the Yau Ma Tei section at least proves that the most difficult and error-prone segment has been successfully navigated.

Hong Kong has long been criticized for its slow and expensive infrastructure projects, but the issues often lie not in technology but in trade-offs. The Central Kowloon Route’s Yau Ma Tei section demonstrates that with clear objectives and a willingness to tackle the most challenging aspects, infrastructure can still serve as a tool for repairing urban structures. This opening is not the end but rather a turning point towards the completion of Route 6.

The Elizabeth Line, formerly known as Crossrail 1, has delivered an undeniable performance for London. Since its opening, it has quickly become one of the busiest and most reliable railways in the UK. More importantly, it has fundamentally altered the perception of distance within the city. Areas such as Reading, Slough, and Abbey Wood, once considered ‘too far to live,’ are now naturally included within the daily commuting range. The recruitment radius for businesses has expanded, residents’ daily rhythms have become more predictable, and London has re-learned how to grow outward. Crossrail 1 demonstrates that the value of intercity rail lies not in speed, but in frequency, reliability, and direct access.

The concept of Crossrail 2 aims to replicate this model. Its origins can be traced back to the 1970s, with a consistent goal: to provide London with a high-capacity north-south backbone to alleviate the long-standing overload on the Victoria and Northern lines. By the 2010s, the route had gradually taken shape. The core section runs through the city centre from Wimbledon via Clapham Junction, Victoria, Tottenham Court Road, and Euston St Pancras; at both ends, branches extend outward. The southwestern terminus includes four major endpoints: Shepperton, Hampton Court, Chessington South, and Epsom; the northeastern end extends to New Southgate and Broxbourne, with potential connections to Hackney Central to the east. The overall design is clear: a high-density main line traversing the city, with multiple branches converging on the outskirts.

This route configuration precisely covers the actual residences of recent Hong Kong migrants. These migrants are concentrated in southwest London, including towns like Kingston upon Thames, New Malden, and Wimbledon. These areas are stable in terms of schools, mature in terms of community, and offer larger living spaces, making them natural choices for family-oriented migrants. However, the transportation reality is also apparent: travel into the city primarily relies on National Rail, which has infrequent services, limited options during peak hours, and delays that can disrupt the entire journey.

The key significance of Crossrail 2 for these communities lies in its ‘mainlining.’ The core section will operate at a frequency close to that of the Underground, with services every few minutes during peak times. For residents along the line, commuting into the city will no longer require checking timetables or enduring the risks of delays and disruptions across the entire network.

As rail services become more frequent, the definition of ‘distance’ is naturally rewritten. Living in southwest London no longer equates to sacrificing urban opportunities, but rather choosing an alternative lifestyle. For dual-income families, there is greater time flexibility; for those needing to frequently travel to the city centre, their employment and development radius is effectively widened.

Overall, this represents the healthiest development path for London. Crossrail 1 connects east to west, while Crossrail 2 fills in the north-south gap, completing the urban framework. For Hongkongers, it offers not speculative dreams, but a tangible prospect of living comfortably without being marginalized. As distance is recalculated, the reasons to stay become more compelling.

As of November 28, the fire at Wang Fuk Court in Tai Po has claimed 128 lives, left 79 injured, and over 200 missing. This tragedy is not a natural disaster but rather a consequence of lax regulations and engineering failures. The key factor in this disaster was the layer of foam board around the exterior windows, intended to protect the glass from damage during construction, but its flammable nature exposed the entire building to extreme risk.

According to preliminary official investigations, the protective netting was flame-retardant; the issue lay with the highly flammable foam board around the windows and doors. The fire initially ignited in the lower-level scaffolding of Hong Cheung House, rapidly spreading up the exterior walls and affecting multiple floors. The intense heat caused the glass to shatter, allowing flames and thick smoke to pour into the interior, resulting in simultaneous fires at multiple points. The bamboo scaffolding burned through under high temperatures, collapsing and igniting other scaffolding, blocking exits and making it difficult for fire trucks to approach. The extreme temperatures in the fire zone caused constant reignition of embers, repeatedly hindering rescue efforts. The entire incident exemplifies the chain reaction of igniting combustible materials.

The dangers of foam board are well known within the industry. It has a low ignition point, produces toxic smoke, and spreads rapidly when ignited. The problem is not ignorance but a lack of accountability for managing risks. For years, regulations governing external wall maintenance in Hong Kong have been lax, focusing solely on procedural compliance without prioritizing material safety. Contractors follow customary practices, management offices approve based on minimum standards, and various departments limit their oversight to their own areas, with no one considering the overall picture. When there are gaps in the system, dangers seep through.

The 2017 Grenfell Tower fire in London had already highlighted combustible materials on external walls as a fatal weakness for high-rise buildings. In response, the UK tightened regulations and mandated the removal of problematic cladding. Eight years later, Hong Kong has yet to address similar vulnerabilities. A safety culture is not merely a slogan; it requires systemic measures to eliminate all possibilities of combustible materials. As long as foam board is still permitted around windows, any reviews will amount to little more than paper exercises.

The Wang Fuk Court fire is not only a warning for Hong Kong but also for densely populated cities worldwide. To prevent a recurrence of such tragedies, a comprehensive review of the system is essential, allowing the facts to speak for themselves. Hong Kong should establish an independent investigation committee composed of international experts in fire engineering, building safety, and risk science to publicly ascertain the causes of the fire, regulatory gaps, and material policies, and propose reforms applicable locally and in other cities. This is not only about accountability but also about preventing future tragedies.

The fire has finally been extinguished, but the flames of the system continue to burn. History has issued two warnings; if lessons are not learned, the costs will only escalate.

In November, Manchester’s streets are filled with yellow buses, a new symbol of the city. This is not merely a change of contractor; it represents a redefinition of public transport. Since privatization in 1986, bus systems across the UK have become fragmented, with chaotic fares and inconvenient transfers. However, Manchester’s reform, dubbed the ‘Bee Network’, demonstrates that transport can return to its service-oriented roots.

Led by Greater Manchester Mayor Andy Burnham, this transformation began with trials in Bolton and Wigan in 2023, aiming for full coverage of Greater Manchester by early 2025. The government has regained control over routes and fares; while buses remain operated by private companies, they must adhere to franchise agreements and unified standards. For the first time, the city’s public transport operates under a single brand, a single ticket, and a cohesive system. The yellow buses are not just a logo but a representation of a shift in governance logic.

The impact on passengers is immediate. Previously, commuting from the suburbs required purchasing two separate tickets, costing around £6. Now, passengers simply tap their cards at entry and exit, with the system automatically calculating the best fare. Transfers within sixty minutes still cost only £2, and children’s tickets are £1. For families commuting daily, weekly transport expenses have dropped from approximately £35 to around £20. This is not a case of government handouts; rather, it is about integration replacing redundancy and planning replacing competition, enhancing efficiency and saving money.

Convenience is equally evident. In the past, passengers had to figure out which company operated which route; now, one card allows travel throughout the entire area. The light rail and bus systems share a payment system that records transactions automatically and provides transparent settlements, making transfers hassle-free. Citizens are rediscovering the continuity of the city. Stations, routes, and timetables no longer belong to different companies but are part of a collaboratively woven public network.

The future blueprint is even more ambitious. Local railways are set to be fully integrated into the Bee Network by 2030, achieving a unified fare system across the region. Burnham is advocating for an underground tunnel project in the city center, allowing light rail and trains to operate underground, alleviating surface congestion while strengthening connections to the airport and new residential areas. If successful, Greater Manchester’s transport system will not only be cohesive but will also create the first true ‘one city, one network’ in the country.

The success of the Bee Network illustrates that public service and efficiency are not mutually exclusive. When local governments possess determination and vision, market forces can be directed towards the public good. This reform has made Manchester’s transport not only smoother but has also restored the sense of wholeness to the city. Other cities in the UK seeking to rebuild connections and equity should take Manchester as a model, allowing public transport to once again become the pulse of the city.

The United Kingdom will construct three small modular reactors (SMRs) in North Wales, marking a significant step in a long-planned initiative. While wind and solar energy have become the cornerstone of the UK’s energy transition, developing rapidly in recent years with substantial cost reductions and record generation levels, a renewable-dominated electricity system still requires a form of long-duration, round-the-clock baseload power. The role of SMRs is crucial in this context. These three reactors are not intended to replace wind and solar but to enable them to become more stable and reliable.

The limitations of renewable energy are not merely theoretical; they are physical realities. The lack of sunlight in winter, extended periods of low wind, and surges in demand during cold snaps all necessitate a power grid capable of continuous operation, providing inertia and voltage support. While batteries are suitable for short-term adjustments, their costs make them impractical for multi-day support; pumped storage is constrained by geography; and hydrogen storage remains immature. This does not negate the value of renewable energy but highlights the need for a dependable ‘stabilizing layer’ that allows wind and solar to confidently occupy a long-term power structure comprising 70% or more.

In this framework, the role of SMRs is to transform nuclear power from a large-scale project requiring a decade to build into a replicable model that can be deployed in five years. They can be rapidly established at the sites of decommissioned power stations, connecting to existing grids without extensive modifications. Their decentralized deployment allows the power system to maintain stable support across various regions. The three SMRs in North Wales are part of the UK’s broader energy infrastructure overhaul, serving as a key complement to make renewable energy more reliable and flexible.

While there are many global SMR designs, only a few have realistic prospects for mass production. General Electric’s BWRX-300 design is the simplest and is widely regarded in engineering circles as having the greatest potential for cost breakthroughs. Rolls-Royce’s SMR employs a pressurized water reactor, featuring a conservative design that aligns with existing regulatory and operational frameworks, offering high modularity and greater acceptance in European and Middle Eastern markets. China’s ACP100 (Linglong One) is currently the world’s first operational SMR, boasting the highest maturity, but its exports are hampered by political factors. Westinghouse’s AP300 is safe and stable, though it lacks strong modularity; Korea’s SMART series has a solid technical foundation but struggles to gain domestic market support, hindering scale formation.

From an engineering perspective, General Electric presents the most groundbreaking option, but in terms of international market and regulatory feasibility, Rolls-Royce holds the most export potential, particularly appealing to Europe, the Middle East, and South America. In terms of maturity, China is currently ahead. The UK’s choice of Rolls-Royce was not because it excelled in every metric, but because it aligns best with the UK’s systems, supply chains, and energy strategies. The pressurized water reactor fits well with the regulatory framework familiar to the UK, while Rolls-Royce has committed to establishing a local modular factory, making SMRs an exportable British product and creating new opportunities for the industry.

However, the limitations of SMRs should not be overlooked. Even with global acceleration, it is estimated that only two to three hundred could be built by 2050, contributing merely 2% to 4% of global electricity, thus unable to become a primary power source. Their importance lies not in their quantity but in their positioning: they fill the last, most challenging segment of maintaining baseload power between renewable energy and the grid, enhancing the overall stability and reliability of the system.

The three SMRs in North Wales represent a starting point for the UK’s energy reform, aimed at providing a more solid foundation for wind and solar energy to occupy a larger share in the future. This pragmatic and steady step also leaves the UK with a potential export pathway. Renewable energy will continue to take center stage, while SMRs will serve as the supporting structure that enables the main players to perform better.