Greenwash Flies Again

You all know what greenwash is, I’m sure: ”Disinformation disseminated by an organization so as to present an environmentally responsible public image” will serve as a pretty good basic definition.

Basically, companies lie to you. I mean, companies lie to us all the time – it’s called marketing – but when they mislead customers in a way that causes them to make choices that are bad for the environment, I take that personally.

Because air travel is not sustainable, the companies who offer us air travel have to greenwash extra hard. Notorious among them was greenJet. Remember this?

GreenJet poster

Quick question while we consider that one: what the heck does “eco assured” signify, and what body provides such assurances? Study the poster as carefully as you like, but you aren’t going to find the answer. Futerra (2008) made an example of greenJet, putting an end to that particular scam… but what’s this I see?

It’s all over the travel industry’s news feeds. There are too many sources to reference, quite frankly.

To think that Aer Lingus are somehow managing to carry a full load of passengers on this airborne miracle factory of theirs: it’s astounding! At least, it would be astounding if their press release used the same definition of recycling as my dictionary.

Recycling: the action or process of converting waste into reusable material.

– Oxford Dictionary of English

How does one go about making reusable material from waste? It’s not easy. How would you recycle a drink can, for instance? The melting point of aluminum is 660.32 degrees Celsius (1,220.6 degrees Fahrenheit), so if Aer Lingus are recycling waste onboard, they’ve somehow found a way to smelt aluminium safely, on an aircraft that’s made of the same material and filled with flammable things like jet fuel and passengers. They’d also need a plant to pulp waste paper and form it into fresh sheets of material, and another to shred plastic waste (of various types) into pellets. For extra credit, add a machine that crushes glass bottles to produce cullet.

Or… no, surely not! Don’t tell me that they consider recycling to mean “sorting our rubbish into separate bins and leaving all the hard work to somebody else.”

Of course, that’s exactly what they mean: segregating waste and then forwarding it to their partner, Panda. Not to criticise Panda, here, because they’re the ones doing all the actual recycling. Aer Lingus, I suspect, are merely asking passengers to put their rubbish into the right bin or bag, mid-flight.

It gets worse. “The airline is set to recycle approximately 20 percent (200 tonnes) of onboard waste by the end of this year,” gushes one of the many articles about this milestone in sustainable aviation (Philp, 2023).

Twenty percent. A fifth… by the end of the year. On short-haul flights into Ireland. Could a green aspiration be more humble than this? More pathetic in scope? Hardly. No doubt they’d say that it’s better than nothing and they’re the leading the industry… but whataboutism remains as hollow as ever – and as Futerra would be quick to point out, being the best in a terrible industry isn’t a sound basis for a green claim.

Please keep in mind that this is an article about the litter in an aircraft cabin on a short-haul flight. It says nothing about the tonnes of Jet A-1 consumed by the engines on every flight, presumably because that impact remains the same as before – and far, far greater than the impact of a little bit of rubbish going to landfill. But don’t look at that! Look over here at our whizzy success story…

Yup! Greenwash strikes again.

Shame on you, Aer Lingus – and on all the dim journalists who parrot such obvious nonsense.

References:

Futerra Sustainability Communications (2008). The greenwash guide. London: Futerra Sustainability Communications.

Philp, S. (2023, July 18). Aer Lingus now recycling onboard. PAX International, July 18th 2023. Available online: https://www.pax-intl.com/passenger-services/terminal-news/2023/07/18/aer-lingus-now-recycling-onboard/ (date accessed: 20/07/2023)

That Shrinking Feeling

There’s a moment in George Orwell’s ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’ where the protagonist learns that the chocolate ration is being increased to twenty grams a week. He remembers, quite clearly, that the ration was reduced to this level shortly before and he wonders if he’s the only person who can see through the propaganda.

Thus, we are introduced to doublethink.

Seventy-five years on from the publication of that novel, we no longer have to worry about rationing1 but it seems that many manufacturers demand a certain amount of doublethink from us.

I refer to shrinkflation, a ‘hidden’ form of inflation whereby manufacturers reduce the size of the product while maintaining the same price. They choose this instead of increasing the price of the product because that would be evident to more consumers. In shrinkflation, the absolute price of the product doesn’t go up, but the price per unit does. Since most people do their shopping in terms of item count (“two jars of peanut butter; one packet of marzipan; packet of dishwasher tablets…”) they don’t always notice that they’re getting less product. Only later do you dig into the jar of peanut butter and find that it has a big indent that’s robbed you of a serving or two.

Heinz salad cream, showing the reduced quantity in the new packaging.
Shrinkflation in action. New and… uh, improved?

Shrinkflation is all around us. If the brand of kitchen roll that you buy seems more svelte than before, it almost certainly is: perhaps giving you fewer sheets isn’t a great way to reward your loyalty, but it maintains a healthy profit margin. You, the consumer, have to tighten your belt but you can be assured that the manufacturer and their shareholders will do that only as a last resort.

Perhaps we could say that the reason we’re getting less for our money is “because of inflation”, but that would be to confuse cause and effect. Giving customers less for their money isn’t a consequence of inflation: it is inflation.

There are, obviously, some reasons why things have become more expensive. China’s COVID vaccine doesn’t work properly and whole cities have endured multiple lockdowns that have caused scarcity of manufactured goods such as car and computer parts; Russia’s shameful war with Ukraine had immediate consequences for the price of wheat, too – and there are knock-on effects: when grain is expensive, eggs become expensive… and so on. Will pricing and sizes will return to normal when the constraints ease, though? I doubt it.

Shrinkflation, though, is a dumb corporate response for two reasons. Firstly, where will it end? You can’t keep on downsizing products indefinitely because sooner or later they’ll become a laughing stock. Kit-Kat Chunky, for example, is a lot less chunky than hitherto. We have to assume that the creation of the ‘Chunky’ brand was expensive, so it’s a shame to spoil it via miniaturisation. Customers aren’t stupid.

2014 Kit-Kat Chunky2019 Kit-Kat Chunky
Length110mm110mm
Width33mm30mm
Height20mm18mm
Calories247203
Weight48g40g
You want hard facts? Allow me to serve up a little bit of Kit-Kat Kryptonite. (Always remember W. Edwards Deming: “Without data, you’re just another person with an opinion.”)

The second reason why shrinkflation is a bad strategy is partly economic and partly environmental. Consider the square-cube law, originally described in 1638 by Galileo Galilei in ‘Two New Sciences’2. It states that as a shape grows in size, its volume grows faster than its surface area… or to turn it around, if we shrink an item, we don’t shrink its wrapping by anything like as much.

For example, here’s a fictional case. Imagine that ScamCo sell a cube of chocolate with a volume of 8cm3, two centimetres on each side. If ScamCo decide to make a new “bite-size” product that’s one centimetre on each side… the volume and weight of the product has decreased to an eighth of the previous one, but the surface area of the product (six times 2×2 in the original product becomes six times 1×1 in the new) is fully a quarter of the original – plus whatever is needed for seams and offcuts. Thus, packaging – the useless part of the product that we throw away – is a greater share of the total when the product shrinks. That’s the square-cube law at work: you might save some money on chocolate, assuming your customers will stand for it, but you won’t save much on packaging.

In a world where everything becomes bite-size, humanity will produce a lot more plastic waste.

Manufacturers might try to tell you that the products’ miniaturisation is a consequence of the government’s efforts to reduce child obesity – an effort that’s at least as old as the century, incidentally – but that doesn’t explain why a bottle of fabric softener has become slightly smaller. Everything is shrinking!

New style Toblerone bar with minimal chocolate content
Looks like the manufacturer has decided that we’re stupid…

The square-cube law strikes again: a bottle of detergent is typically a smooth, kind of ovoid shape. Wrapping a few hundred of them in secondary packaging and stacking them (and all the air gaps between them) on a pallet becomes less and less efficient as the product gets smaller – which means that the high cost of the product becomes higher still, due to the increasingly challenging transportation and storage. Inflation causing inflation.

That might seem ridiculous, but I’m reminded of Douglas Adams’ economic theory of the Shoe Event Horizon. It’s entirely possible for humans to act logically but produce a stupid outcome as a consequence.

In logistics, the term ‘shrinkage’ is used to refer to losses such as spoilage and theft. Perhaps the customer should now worry about shrinkage, too, as they’re being robbed blind! There’s a related though less-used term, too: ‘skimpflation’ is where the quality of products is reduced in order to maintain profit margins. If you find that the quantity of your breakfast cereal hasn’t been reduced, you might still find that it has less fruit in it and more carbohydrates; chocolate, similarly, is becoming largely unfamiliar with the cocoa bean and more acquainted with corn syrup, vegetable oil, and high fructose corn syrup. Fans of real chocolate hate the cheap stuff.

Myself, I’ve all but given up on chocolate. I don’t see much point in eating the low-quality stuff3 at inflated prices and I’d rather have a very occasional bite of dark chocolate that still tastes like it ought to. I’ve taken to snacking on peanuts during the day, in a living demonstration of what economists call the own-price elasticity of demand: when prices are high, some people do without… but if I’m choosing to go without various things nowadays (being a fifty-something professional, entirely debt-free and generally thought of as “comfortable”) I can only imagine what the situation is like for those in more straitened circumstances.

Consumers are having a hard enough time coping with the cost of living, without regularly being lied to and sold more packaging than they need. There’s no end in sight for the shrinkage scam yet, though.


More on Shrinkflation… some articles I found that might interest you:

  • CNBC revealed that 64% of consumers are worried about it (Konish, 2022).
  • The Office for National Statistics (2019) was already well ahead of this, and well-placed to tell you just how many products in the UK are getting smaller.
  • Harvey (2021) discusses the five ‘cost-management tools’ that Unilever use.
  • For NPR, a nice piece by Rosalsky (2021) who called it “Inflation’s Devious Cousin.”


1 In the UK, the rationing of confectionery ended on February 4th 1953 – an astonishingly long time after the Second World War, but that’s another story.

2 Back when I was a researcher, we used to have an unofficial competition where we would try to work in the oldest source. Nerds…

3 Cadbury’s Creme Eggs were always vile, so the change from six eggs in a box to five hasn’t inconvenienced me at all… but who ever heard of buying eggs in fives?

Winners and Losers in the Year of COVID-19

Things in the UK haven’t changed this much, this fast, since the Second World War. Historians, economists and other scholars will sift through the wreckage of 2020 in due course and no doubt there will be interesting things to discover – but supply chain people are generally less interested in history; more interested in problem-solving.

There was a time when a significant chunk of my research was about scenario analysis, so let’s look at our current COVID-disrupted circumstances through that lens. What trends are developing? What behaviours contribute to the outcomes we are seeing? Already, we know quite a lot. If we can ease our way past day-to-day concerns about shortages of toilet paper and bread flour, it’s reasonably easy see some things that are happening. There’s no need to wait until you’re told about them on the evening news… and in any case the evening news isn’t going to tell us the things that affect us because the “Big Story” is drowning out all the little ones.

For this reason, I chose to look at a more obscure set of winners and losers. My list isn’t meant to be exhaustive, but simply illustrative. I’ll leave it to professional journalists to report on the main issues, like a loss of faith in the World Health Organisation… mass unemployment… calls to boycott Chinese goods… but where else are we seeing changes?

Winner: Home Economics (domestic science)

A few days after panic-buying gripped the nation, a lot of food was thrown out. It appears that many people simply didn’t know what to do with the food that they had managed to buy. The government told us that it should be possible to get three meals out of a chicken but they may have been overestimating the culinary skills of British public. (That same public who mourned the closure of fast food outlets to an almost comical degree.)

As a school subject, home economics has been denigrated for years. It was a “practical subject” – which is a coded way of saying that high-achieving kids aren’t encouraged to study it. Home economics often came with an undercurrent of sexism, too. Add in the fact that the facilities and materials made it an expensive subject for schools to offer, and no wonder it was run down… but now we discover that we needed it. With food in short supply today, it’s clear that a little more education in home economics would be useful. Each time I discover that some ingredient has gone off before I used it, that’s an argument in favour of domestic science education: I expect that we will see a resurgence of this subject in the post-COVID world.

Loser: Cash

Nobody wants your money, anymore – in case it has invisible cooties on it. It’s a blow for older generations who aren’t entirely comfortable with online shopping and contactless payment as they find that paying with legal tender is positively discouraged.

The governments of many countries have been trying to wean people off certain low-denomination coins for years, on the grounds that they cost more to make than they’re worth. In fact, a lot of governments might secretly like the idea of an entirely cashless economy because it would put a serious dent in the underground economy. Cash transactions have been under pressure ever since banks made it hard to withdraw cash where this had traditionally been the means for companies to make payroll.

Could a pandemic push some countries toward a future of all-electronic funds? It probably won’t happen right away, but the decline of coins and banknotes has definitely been hastened by COVID-19.

Old coin

Coins were introduced around the 6th century BCE, first being minted by the Lydians, according to Herdotous. They’ve had a good run. [image: Classical Numismatic Group, Inc.]

Winner: Long-life food formats

As a nation, we’ve become accustomed to the idea that you can pick something up on the way home from work. At a time when so many of us are no longer travelling to work, those mini-supermarkets located on railway station concourses aren’t very useful. Also, visits to supermarkets of all sizes are much less pleasant now. Whether you’re going to queue round the block to enter the premises, get into a fist-fight with your fellow shoppers, be sneezed on or simply find that the item you went for isn’t in stock, nobody wants to do this more often than they absolutely have to.

All of a sudden, we’ve been reacquainted with the value of tinned, frozen and dried food. Breaded goujons from the chiller cabinet were all very well in the pre-COVID world, but now we want good old fish fingers. They keep for months and you can easily find room for two dozen of them in your freezer. I suspect that even when everything is “back to normal” a lot of us will tend to keep more food in stock, and that means more long-life food; less chilled and fresh. This would be a good time to buy shares in a cannery.

Loser: Horoscopes

Aside from the obvious problem, that none of the feted astrologers managed to predict the COVID-19 crisis… the big problem facing astrologers now is coming up with twelve different things to say to their various subscribers, day after day, when every day is much the same for everyone.

It’s ten years since all the woo-woo “sciences” (palmistry, psychic readings and so on) received a mortal blow from EU consumer protection regulations requiring them to make clear that the services they offer are for entertainment only and not experimentally proven. Perhaps the unforeseen circumstances we are now living through will finally consign the notion of Messages from Beyond to the ash heap of history.

Let’s hope so.

Winner: Useless CEOs

If you’re in charge of an ailing company that’s been on a downward spiral for years, this is a great time to shut it down. Right now, you have the best possible chance of abandoning the mess that you’ve created while preserving the two things that are most important:

          1. Your “personal brand”, and
          2. Your ego

Useless CEOs had to do just two things. Job one was to read the morning papers – the same ones that you and I look at. Job two was to use the last ten weeks or so to formulate strategies that would anticipate how their business could continue, even thrive, during a pandemic. For this, they had a pretty good foundation, based on what had already occurred with SARS, Swine Flu, Ebola… so are we really going to allow them to act all surprised and disappointed when the business they run goes off the rails?

Not to worry, bad CEOs: it can’t possibly be your fault that thousands of people are losing their jobs. It’s COVID-19, innit? And maybe BREXIT, too. At last, a way out of that hole you dug for yourself by selling off all your company’s assets: simply wind up the whole thing and make sad faces. Spend more time on your yacht, because you’ve “earned it!” Useless CEOs sail away into the sunset with a big win this year – and perhaps quite a lot of taxpayers’ money as well.

Loser: Charity shops

At a time when people are feeling nervous even about the brand new items that they’re getting in the post, who’s going to want to buy second-hand ones? Moreover, what volunteer is going to be prepared to pick through the items that get donated?

An additional problem for charity shops is that one of the first things we all did under lockdown was to have a big clear-out. This may have made our homes more habitable, but it also led to virtually everything going into landfill. Charity shops have lost out in a big way – and eBay isn’t looking very attractive, either.

Winner: Our Homes and Gardens

Most of us have been spending a lot more time at home and this has led us to think about making that space better. Most DIY shops remained open in some form because house repairs were considered essential. Many customers will have found it necessary to use “click and collect” or arrange home delivery, but a lot of home improvements have been going on.

We’re on the horns of a dilemma here. Garden furniture may not be essential, but keeping some fragment of the economy ticking along at this time isn’t exactly a bad thing. So should you order items for home delivery, or not? Online shopping is causing people who work in fulfilment to go into a workplace where there are significant concerns about their safety… but this can only be considered on a case-by-case basis. Individuals and (where permitted) trade unions will have to take action here, because customers simply don’t know enough about working conditions.

Until we’re asked to show restraint – or until online shopping for non-essential goods is banned outright by those in charge – I’d say you can make purchases for home and garden a matter for your conscience… perhaps informed by articles such as this one.

Loser: Anybody with a strong opinion on BREXIT

On both sides of the UK’s 52%-48% divide, those with strongly-held opinions were counting the days until (they hoped) they could say “I told you so!”

Whatever happens now, BREXIT is small potatoes. These weeks of lockdown and social distancing have done far more damage to the economy than even the hardest of hard BREXITs could have done. If BREXIT is delayed, that’s not Boris’ fault but COVID-19’s. If the United Kingdom is debt-riddled and austere for years to come, that’s not Boris’ fault but COVID-19’s. Even if the European project itself fails (this piece suggested a rift was developing between the financially prudent member states and the more spendthrift, southern ones) it can’t be said to be a consequence of BREXIT: with COVID-19 in the room, everything else gets put into perspective.

Loser: my Barber

I appreciate that an anecdote doesn’t constitute evidence of a major trend, but consider this as indicative of damage to the service economy as a whole.

When other people were still worrying about pasta and toilet paper, I was buying hair clippers. We logistics people like to look ahead… and hair is going to keep on growing, lockdown or no. In fact, lockdown is the ideal time to experiment with a home-grown haircut because (a) it’s likely to be better than nothing and (b) even if it’s horrendous, who’s going to see it? By the time this lockdown ends, I’ll have had several home haircuts and perhaps each can be expected to be a little more proficient than the last. If the end result is actually sort of OK, given that I’m a grizzled old geezer with no particular interest in being fashionable… as far as my barber is concerned I might as well have died in the pandemic: he might never see me again. This is a small but more-or-less permanent knock to the service economy. Extend that across the nation, with similar stories from other sectors, and you have a recipe for a very weak recovery indeed.

Winner: reshoring

This particular piece of management yuckspeak is more commonly found in my supply chain strategy module, where it refers to bringing back that which was previously offshored for economic reasons. Can it be made to work? Well… maybe. Consider how all the shops ran out of paracetamol: apparently a vital thing to have in the fight against COVID-19. Imported, store-branded paracetamol was dirt cheap, but the spike in demand that we saw with COVID-19 showed how foolish it was to cede control of manufacturing. We are seeing the same thing with shortages of personal protective equipment (PPE) – and people are dying as a result.

Governments must now be thinking about rolling back on globalisation – and stories like this will hasten the process. Offshoring was about price, but reshoring is about the far more important issue of control. In the same way that governments have sometimes requisitioned ships and aircraft in time of war (with consequences for the registry system, leading inevitably to higher prices) we can expect to see governments move to secure closer control of key industries… which means, whether through tariffs or incentives, the newly-strategic apparatus of COVID-era healthcare being brought back to our own shores.

A good time to be in UK manufacturing, perhaps… if the overall economic depression doesn’t bite too hard, for too long.

Loser: the Police Service

Take a part of the machinery of state that has been run down for decades – made up of staff who are no less likely to become infected than anybody else – and give them vague instructions at short notice, requiring large-scale deployment against “ordinary people.” (Possibly stupid people who think that what a nation on lockdown really needs is bouncy castles… but not previously those thought of as members of the criminal classes.)

This is a recipe for disquiet: you leave the police to interpret their unclear instructions and deploy their inadequate resources as best they can, handing out penalties that quite possibly wouldn’t stand up in court, if challenged. The result is resentment that could last a generation – or even overturn the policing by consent model itself.

Winner: the Study of Pollution

We only rarely get a chance to see what our skies used to be like, and that’s important in establishing a baseline. It happened in North America after 9/11 and in Europe after the eruption of Eyjafjallajökull in 2010, but the current situation sees the number of flights sharply reduced with no clear end in sight – and cities normally known for smog are much cleaner, too.

Will climate scientists find this lull useful? Certainly. Will ordinary people notice the improvement in air quality? Yes – if they’re allowed out. Will they value the improved air quality so much that they press for change, later on? Probably not: more likely we’ll be so glad to have jobs to go back to that we’ll accept a return to the bad old days of traffic jams and sulphur dioxide.

The study of pollution is the winner here, not the fight against pollution itself.

Loser: Air Travel

A complicated set of businesses collaborate to offer air transportation, many working in the background to make it possible. All stand to lose out while ’planes are grounded. The usually cash-positive business of aviation has a huge wage bill and expensive assets sat around, depreciating or requiring lease payments.

Longer-term, businesses that have had to make do with videoconferencing in place of face-to-face visits might decide that it’s actually worked out pretty well, with the result that business travel  volumes never fully recover. The problem here is that business travel was always far more lucrative for airlines than carrying the far more numerous hoi polloi at the back of the ’plane. Even if we, the holidaying public, decide to throw caution to the wind and start holidaying in far-flung places straight away (which is unlikely) prices are likely to be higher.

A complicating factor is that some airlines have acted disgracefully, not refunding passengers’ money for cancelled flights but offering credits against future flights… which might get them one more flight, grudgingly, but is likely to have put a huge dent in customer loyalty.

For manufacturers, COVID-19 comes after Boeing’s disastrous time with the 737 MAX (still grounded worldwide; still inspiring no confidence whatsoever) and Airbus’ failure with the A380 (passengers love them; airlines don’t know how to fill them; Airbus never sold enough to cover the huge cost of their development). If the demand for air travel is depressed by even five percent overall there are going to be a lot of slightly-used aircraft for sale, resulting in a very bad time for aircraft manufacturers and their supply networks, for years to come.

Question Mark: the Food Industry

This is a tricky one. On the one hand, after those scenes of empty shelves and people fighting over the last jar or hotdogs we’re all so absurdly grateful to have food of any kind that we aren’t looking much at the prices. They’ve crept up… maybe up to the point where farming becomes a secure, long-term business proposition. That can’t be bad for the industry.

On the other hand, farms will find that they are desperately short-handed. In any other year, growers could expect to hire an army of workers from eastern Europe. This year, those people simple aren’t here. This raises the prospect of a double-whammy: reduced supplies from overseas – many of the nations we usually import food from now have virus worries of their own – while locally grown supplies might be left to rot in the fields due to a lack of adequate labour. More reasons for prices to rise and shortages to manifest themselves.

We might also see citizen volunteers (or temporary workers) on the land – although many will be surprised at just how hard the work can be. We might even see a benefits system shake-up whereby those who are unemployed or “furloughed” are found work in the fields. This new ‘Land Army’ is just one example of how current policy is being shaped by things that occurred in the Second World War.

Loser: Variety

At a time when supermarkets were largely unable to cope with the surge in demand, we saw an interesting new development. UK supermarket chain Morrisons was one of the first to offer a no-frills food box, described thus:

“Our boxes contain a selection of items based on our current availability of products, therefore we are unable to specify exact contents of each box. You will however receive a variety of different foods in each box. Typically this box should feed 2 adults for one week.”

Remember when shopping involved a choice between three or four different brands for any particular item? If you wanted pesto… did you want a premium brand? Economy? In a jar, or fresh? Now we get food for two adults, for a week, meat-eater or vegetarian… no further details.

This somewhat resembles the situation in World War II: always a net importer of food, the UK began offering undifferentiated, commodity products within the rationing framework. Tea was no longer Brooke Bond, Lyons or Tetley: it was just “tea”. (It was my maternal grandfather’s job to blend tea from what was available, in fact.) Likewise chocolate ceased to be Bourneville, Fry’s or Dairy Milk but just chocolate (two ounces per person) and bread would become the standardised National Loaf, too.

For supermarkets, perhaps the present reduction in variety will be found to be a good thing. They might actually seek to streamline the vast array of Stock Keeping Units that they carry, when all this is over.

Question mark: the UK National Health Service

It’s hard to know quite what to expect in the future of healthcare. Elsewhere this will be examined in its own right, no doubt, but let’s try a quick look. On the one hand, the National Health Service is garnering colossal amounts of goodwill. Foolish indeed will be the politician who fails to acknowledge this: the NHS can expect increased funding in the years to come.

Perhaps we’ve become very complacent about the National Health Service, though. Politicians of all flavours had routinely described it as “excellent” as a matter of course… until COVID-19. All of a sudden, we were worried that it wouldn’t cope. Italy, we were told, had an excellent healthcare system but one that was buckling under the unprecedented strain placed upon it in early 2020.

Perhaps the NHS was most enviable in terms of its pricing model, rather than its sheer capability. This is a healthcare system that most of us pay almost nothing for (taxes, of course, but after that most British people of working age pay only for dental care and a contribution towards prescription charges). It really is exceptionally good value – but is “healthcare that is a bargain” top of your wish list right now? Maybe not.

On the downside, who is going to want to work in this hypothetical, better-funded health service? Having read news articles about thirteen-hour shifts; having seen photos of what long-term wearing of protective equipment does to the skin; having counted the casualties among those on the front lines… I sense a recruitment crisis.

At best, we will see a hard-bitten, better equipped NHS in place to support us through subsequent waves of this pandemic and others to come. Then there’s the elephant in the room: that COVID-19 and associated disruptions to “business as usual” in our care system could significantly reduce the number of old and infirm people – those who have in recent years been described as representing a “demographic timebomb.” It’s not a nice thought, but 2020 might do a lot to defuse a timebomb that a succession of administrations have failed to address.

Winner: Laptops

In recent years, IT managers have typically required their staff to make do with some pretty awful laptops. Let’s be honest: if you didn’t work for a ‘hipster’ startup and you weren’t the boss, you probably had something clunky and outdated. (Students routinely have better laptops than their lecturers, nowadays.)

Then came COVID-19. All of a sudden, staff were expected to join meetings via videoconferencing and the full horror of those laptops became plain to see. From the dim, grainy cameras on the ageing ones to the dreadful audio on their cheap replacements, conferences up and down the land echoed to the sound of “Uh… sorry… can you repeat that?”

Chinese factories might be in disarray or shut down entirely, but IT managers are spending like they haven’t done for a decade. Windows laptops have exhibited a race to the bottom on quality in recent years, with £700 being considered “a lot” to spend on a member of staff, but for a little while at least, that’s likely to change.

Loser: cities

Nothing in recent years has done more to discourage city living than COVID-19. Imagine that you were one of the people who had paid top dollar for a small city apartment: it might once have seemed that you were “at the heart of things,” but now there’s no upside to city living: just a lack of green space and difficulty maintaining safe social distancing.

Outside the city, people enjoy more spacious homes and fewer arguments as a result. They relax in their gardens; a short walk gets them out into the countryside. They are surrounded by farms, confident that they won’t have any real food worries.

Expect those inner city apartments to have lost at least £20,000 in value when moving home becomes possible again. City folk who also own a holiday home in the countryside have had it worst of all, discovering that the locals have made them distinctly unwelcome when they sought to escape the disease… for fear that they brought it with them.

Winners: David Mitchell and Robert Webb

In 2009, television comedy sketch show That Mitchell and Webb Look featured a recurring item in which we saw The Quiz Broadcast, a game show set in a post-apocalyptic Britain that had been wrecked by a mysterious happening known only as “The Event”. As contestants competed for firewood, the quiz show host constantly reminded viewers to “remain indoors!”

This has been trending on social media in a big way, with people drawing parallels to their present-day circumstances. The comments section is stuffed with variations of “years ago, this was a comedy sketch: now it’s a documentary.” That’s not quite true… but if it earns Mitchell and Webb a well-deserved second look from new audiences, well and good.

Now wash your hands.

Beer and Number Crunching

In these turbulent times of panic-buying, empty shelves and the police cracking down on Easter eggs one crumb of comfort is that I won’t run short of beer any time soon. I brew my own, 23 litres at a time.

I’ve often enjoyed learning about jobs that are normally done for us by experts with their own terminology, tools and tricks of the trade. Too many things are “done in a factory” far away, and we don’t know much about them, but just for fun I’ve operated printing presses, made clay pots, spent several days blacksmithing, gone on bread-making courses and so on. Making my own beer was perhaps inevitable.

It’s quite simple – particularly when you learn that the process is actually very forgiving: I’ve never yet had a “bad batch.” Quite a lot of repetition is involved – mostly sterilising things – but it leads to a tremendous sense of satisfaction when you enjoy the fruits of your labour. Also when you reflect on the fact that you’ve saved about fifty pounds, compared to the cost of a similar quantity of beer if bought at the supermarket.

The home brewer is also reducing their carbon footprint considerably. By how much? Well, ’How Bad are Bananas’ by Mike Berners-Lee suggests a footprint of 500g CO2e for a pint of local bottled beer, bought from a shop – and much more for an export beer from another continent, obviously. Berners-Lee gives the following breakdown for one particular brand:

Ingredients: 36%
Electricity: 26%
Equipment: 13%
Travel and commuting: 10%
Freight: 7%
Fermentation: 5%
Packaging: 3%

For home brewing, some of those components of the carbon footprint remain; others change or disappear. Obviously, we still depend upon ingredients: we’re not making hooch from potato peelings here. Equipment is a one-off cost, after which it’s a good thing to use said equipment as much as possible. (Every cloud has a silver lining…) Freight is inbound-only: we aren’t sending the finished product out. Travel and commuting is basically nil: we aren’t employing people who need to travel to the brewery in order to work. Packaging is also eliminated because we can reuse any bottles that we already have: empty lemonade bottles are ideal.

Fermentation is an unusual component of a carbon footprint calculation, but this is a necessary process whereby yeast converts sugars into ethanol and carbon dioxide. Carbon dioxide isn’t just a Bad Thing that appears when vehicles move: it’s produced by this biological process – and we actually need it, because the beer will be otherwise be flat and unappetising.

Electricity is a somewhat complicated one. There isn’t anything essential that’s electric, but if there’s one thing that fermentation depends upon it’s a certain degree of warmth. Trouble is, my home brewing isn’t performed in the kitchen (for reasons of domestic harmony) and instead takes place in a room that we don’t normally heat. Those with more experience in brewing assure me that fermentation will still take place at low temperature, although it will happen “more slowly”, which is rather imprecise. How is the novice brewer supposed to know how long fermentation will require?

Another piece of advice I received was that you can buy an electric heat pad to place beneath the fermenting vessel and warm things up a little. These sell for about £25 on Amazon – or did, back when Amazon stocked such frivolities. Rated at 25 watts, a heat pad is reasonably cheap to run: I make it around eight pence per day – and perhaps 370g CO2e per day in additional carbon consequences.

So we’re ever so ‘green’ here… but perhaps that daily 370 grams of gases that contribute to climate change will detract from your enjoyment of the beer. I certainly dislike taking something as versatile and useful as electricity and turning it into nothing but heat – but would I have to? Couldn’t I use waste heat rather than grid electricity? There must be something that’s always warm, always running…

And of course, there is. Only maybe it should be used for cider, because it was made by a company called Apple, Inc.

The particular model of beer heater that I now use is called the Mac Mini, model 2,1. It’s rated at 23W at idle, rising to a maximum of 110W at full power. (Apple informs me that this equates to a thermal output of 376 BTU per hour. It’s nice to see these archaic units of measurement getting an airing once in a while. Perhaps one day I can do likewise and rate some cropland in bushels per oxgang?)

The standby power of the Apple beer heater may be insufficient at the baseline 23W, but a good way to raise the thermal output of the device is known: simply run an application that is sufficiently demanding, causing it to exert some specified portion of its two processor cores, each running at 1.83GHz. An excellent way to do this is to participate in BOINC, the Berkeley Open Infrastructure for Network Computing. This volunteer distributed computing effort has been underway for two decades now, featuring over 800,000 computers using their spare time to perform calculations for complex science projects. You might choose to donate some runtime to searching for a larger prime number, performing protein folding, modelling the Milky Way, or examining the paths of the solar system’s asteroids.

I chose SETI@home, a project examining astronomical radio noise in the hope of detecting signals that might be artificial in nature – which is to say, scanning the skies for little green men. In this way my Apple beer heater has performed a few billion calculations for the project.

A good beer should have an interesting backstory, I think, and the gestation of this one suggested a name to me at once: Ale-in Life Form. A zesty drink with malt undertones, a pleasing ‘hoppy’ aroma and just a hint of the Crab Nebula. Sadly, the only life observed during my part of this grand experiment wasn’t out in space, but inside the fermenting vessel itself. It was a species of yeast, and I haven’t made any attempt at communication because it’s scarcely more intelligent than a politician.

SETI@home is winding down, now: they sent out the final packets of work to participating computers yesterday, signalling the end of a decades-long effort to answer a significant question:

Are we alone?

It seems we might be. And if so, life on Earth is all the more precious.

Ship’s telegraph signalling “finished with engines”

Finished with Engines: SETI@home doesn’t want us anymore.

My next batch of beer will be heated with calculations for Rosetta@home, a protein-folding simulation that performs applied research in the fight against various ailments including malaria, Alzheimer’s disease, HIV and now COVID-19.

I can take no credit for the idea of using a computer as a heat source. Dutch startup Nerdalize proposed an innovative business model whereby a householder would have computer hardware installed in their home instead of a radiator. Nerdalize would pay for the electricity consumed but wouldn’t have to worry about cooling, nor renting the space where the equipment was installed. A Nerdalize e-radiator would be installed on an external wall of the house, venting its heat inside when it was wanted, and outside at other times. This was a pretty neat idea because the heat given off by large-scale installations of computer equipment is a major problem, necessitating elaborate and energy-intensive cooling solutions. In search of cheaper cooling, data centres are moving north and in some cases even underwater, but a distributed computing solution that heats our homes could significantly reduce the harm caused by our current YouTube habit.

Where are they now?

  • Having raised €1.6m through crowdfunding, Nerdalize lost €882,000 in 2017 and filed for bankruptcy soon after.
  • SETI@home never found E.T.
  • The new batch of beer is called Lockdown IPA.

Lockdown beer bottles

Lockdown IPA: for a quiet night in

3-pin mains plug

Shameless Plug

We interrupt this hiatus to bring you… a shameless plug.

There’s an awful lot of logistics and supply chain activity going on, in the modern world. Companies are making less and buying more. More things are moving, further, faster and more cheaply, and this demands more and more problem-solvers, innovators and analysts.

Ruamsook and Craighead (2014) warned that the demand for supply chain professionals exceeded supply by six to one. For an industry that’s all about modelling demand and adjusting capacity, this is a distinctly embarrassing situation to get into. On the positive side, a person who wants to get into a growth industry need look no further!

At last, after years spent trying to explain to newly-arrived students in business schools that my subject is an important one, the words “supply chain” are being heard on the evening news daily. For this, we can thank first BREXIT and now COVID-19.

Supply chain management is something that needs to be understood – better understood, by more people – if we are going to make globalised trade work. For too long, we have allowed a continuing downward pressure on price not just to influence our decisions, but to shape the landscape within which all business decisions are made. Not just by ourselves, but by many other institutions upon which we depend as well. Few have understood that the cost reductions achieved through a longer, leaner supply chain come with a hefty side-order of risk… but perhaps realisation is now beginning to dawn.

What better time to employ one of my students? These are people who understand that business continuity requires an in-depth understanding of inter-related and sometimes competing issues including social drivers, environmental factors and profitability. (Profit isn’t a dirty word: making money is the reason why you keep doing all the other valuable things, instead of cancelling them because times are hard.)

For many of my students, studying for a masters qualification in Logistics and Supply Chain Management is a process of conversion: they did a bachelor’s degree in something that their eighteen-year-old self found interesting, but which didn’t complement their later career path. All over the nation, there are warehouse managers with a degree in chemistry, procurement specialists who originally studied medieval art history and so on. There are also a lot of people who don’t currently work in the supply chain at all, but who could do great things if they did. We need those people… as you will probably agree, if you are currently short of toilet paper, paracetamol and pasta.

(The 3 P’s of supply chain disruption? A new theory? Well… maybe. I digress.)

Help is at hand… and you could even study for a Masters in L&SCM while quarantined. If you like Capacify; if you forgive my sometimes irreverent writings on business in general and the supply chain in particular; if you can find room for more of this in your life… you might want to learn more about the online programme at the University of Hull.

As you will see, they selected a key frame for the video that makes me look completely demented… and left it that way, despite my objections… but the programme itself is a good one.

Developing it has required Herculean efforts from a lot of people. It’s not been a personal project, but one involving professional proof-readers, learning designers, videographers, graphic artists and significant management buy-in, too. You simply can’t do this kind of thing on the cheap… although there are always some who think that entry into the world of online education is easy.

Some years ago, a different university asked me to develop an online MBA programme. “The budget is £25,000,” they said.

“Per module, right?” I asked, naïvely.

“No, in total,” they said. “And can you have it ready by September?” It was early summer.

I chose to emulate the Roman Empire instead, and declined.

You see, online study done on the cheap is really bad. My PhD studies were in computer-aided learning, back in the 1990s. From those days I recall the warning from Fisher (1994) that “Too many people put a linear book on-line, give it some electronic bookmarks, and call it hypertext; worse yet, they add a few scanned-in photographs and a soundtrack and call it multimedia.”

To this day, too many people think that if you get a film crew in and have them point a camera at you while you perform your regular lecturing duties, the result can readily be converted into an online learning experience.

No. Hell no: Nobody wants to watch you hold forth for an hour or two, prerecorded and with no chance to interact. The key to successful online learning lies not in what is broadcast, but in the activities that students perform. People learn by doing, not watching.

On my programme, students redesign a warehouse; they plan the blood transfusion supply for London; they debate whether Lego is a “green” product; they submit 2-minute movies on waste and so on. There’s at least as much to be learned from the other students as from the programme itself, because the supply chain is vast and it exists in many forms.

You should probably check it out. There’s no need to wait until September; we have three starts a year. Besides, what the heck else are you going to do, once you’ve gone for your government-mandated one walk per day and counted your rolls of toilet paper? Lockdown is an ideal time for online study.

(Now wash your hands, please.)


References

Fisher, S. (1994) “Multimedia Authoring, Building and Developing Documents”, Academic Press Inc., Boston

Ruamsook, K., & Craighead, C. (2014). A supply chain talent “perfect storm?”, Supply Chain Management Review, 18(1), pp. 12–17