After Oil
By David Fleming, November 2000
Introduction: The weightless economy still has dirty old oil pumping through its
veins, as the recent fuel blockades demonstrated, says David Fleming. In the next
ten years, the growing demand for oil will permanently overtake a shrinking supply
-- playing havoc with price. Why are western governments doing nothing to prepare?
Beneath the seabed off the coast of Saudi Arabia is an oil field called
Manifa. It is giant, and its riches are almost untapped. There is, however,
a snag. Its oil is heavy with vanadium and hydrogen sulphide, making it
virtually unusable. One day the technology may be in place to remove these
contaminants, but it will not be for a long time, and when, or if, it becomes
possible, it will do no more than slightly reduce the rate at which the
world's oil supplies slip away towards depletion. Even this field has one
advantage over the massive reserves of oil which middle east suppliers
are said to hold, ready to secure the future of industrial civilisation.
Unlike those fantasy fields, Manifa does actually exist.
In region after region, the story is of ageing fields, of the wrong
sort of oil, of nitrogen being pumped into wells to keep up the flow, of
new areas (such as east of Greenland) turning out to be dry. Britain's
North Sea oil is at its peak now. The giant fields in Alaska, the former
Soviet Union, Mexico, Venezuela and Norway are all past their peak. The
US's own oil supplies have been declining since 1970 and now account for
less than half its needs. There is a possibility of some big finds off
the coast of west Africa, but their development is still years away, and
they are not on a scale capable of making a difference. The only producers
with an oil resource which may be capable of keeping oil flowing into the
world market at a roughly constant level are the middle east Opec five--Saudi
Arabia, Iran, Iraq, Kuwait and the United Arab Emirates. And even in these
countries, the closer you look, the less they have to offer.
Most of Saudi Arabia's reserves of oil are held in one huge field, the
Ghawar. It has been pumped since 1948 and, not surprisingly, it is showing
signs of exhaustion with its southern end now flooding with water. Saudi
Arabia can keep its production roughly constant for another seven to ten
years before it too has used up half its total oil resource and rolls over
towards depletion. Then it will turn to smaller fields, producing smaller
amounts, followed by poor-quality fields with real problems, such as Manifa.
Things are not much better in the other Gulf states. Iran, which used
to be the young giant of the oil business, could not now sustain a higher
output for long, and there are suspicions that some of the production credited
to Iran is piped over the border from Iraq. Kuwait and one of the emirates,
Abu Dhabi, could increase production and may well do so, but their reserves
are small, relative to world demand.
Only one country has the potential for a serious increase in output,
on a scale which could make a difference. The bad news is: that country
is Iraq. Iraq's oil geology is not fully explored, but there are some well-informed
guesses. One estimate is that there are 110 billion barrels there--equal
to more than three British North Seas, or more than one third of the total
resource once possessed by Saudi Arabia. This oil could not be made immediately
available, but it is on a scale to keep world oil production rising for
a few more years. It lies, however, in a country which is armed to the
teeth, consumed by loathing of the west, and just waiting for a US armed
intervention to make its day. Iraq was prevented from selling off its oil
during the 1990s, when prices were lower than they will ever be again;
it will soon be well placed to apply its own sanctions to the rest of the
world by fine-tuning its output and naming its price.
This is not a happy story. But the most shocking thing about it is that
it is not a new one, either. The essential problem has been known for a
long time. It is a fact, written up exhaustively in the literature, that
the period around the turn of the millennium marks the end of growth in
the world production of oil, and the start of its long decline towards
depletion. In 1956, the geologist King Hubbert accurately forecast that
the US's oil production would peak in 1970. In 1970, Esso forecast that
global production would peak in about 2000. In 1976, Britain's department
of energy said that North Sea production would peak at about the end of
the century--the same time as the peak in world oil production. For this
reason, the report concluded, it would be a good idea to be ready with
alternative supplies of energy.
Warnings have continued to flow. In November 1998, the International
Energy Agency (IEA) showed that growth in world oil output could not be
expected to continue beyond about 2001. And in the last few weeks, a member
of the respected US Geological Survey has published on the internet his
master-class on "the Big Rollover--when the demand for oil outstrips the
capacity to produce it." It concludes: "Hang on tight. If we don't recognise
the problem soon and deal with it, it's going to be quite a ride!"
So it seems reasonable to conclude that the oil price rise of the past
18 months could be just the start of something much bigger. Why then do
the relevant authorities seem so complacent? The recent oil disorders have
been discussed in terms of taxes and domestic politics, with occasional
references to Opec trying out its strength, and to the powerful bargaining
position which the US enjoys because of its strategic reserves. If the
problem were really serious, surely--in this society rich in economists
and experts--we would have been told?
Not necessarily. The economic principles, which explain how a market
economy works, tend to break down when applied to natural resources such
as oil.
There are four ways in which the principles of market economics do not
apply in this case. The first arises from the fact that the price of oil
today has virtually no influence on the rate at which it is discovered.
In market economics, the rules of supply and demand hold good: if the price
of something goes up, this gives a signal to someone to produce more of
it; new producers will pile into the market until the price settles down
again. In the oil market, price does not have this effect. In the early
days, the best and biggest fields were quickly found, and were very cheap
to pump. This fuel was very profitable; so the world's resources were prospected
urgently and rapidly and, with the help of digital seismic technology,
discovery of oil grew to a peak at about 1965.
This means that most of the oil we are using was discovered more than
40 years ago. But that period of immense discoveries is over. There is
no conceivable increase in prices which will bring it back. As we use up
more of the fields which were discovered in the past, it is becoming more
difficult to sustain the growth of production. Soon it, too, will decline.
A variant of the faith in prices is the faith that new technologies
will increase the rate at which oil is discovered, and make it possible
to extract more of the oil contained in a well. This confidence in "technological
improvements relating to discovery and recovery rates" is expressed by
Britain's energy minister, Helen Liddell, in her reply to a recent letter
from Tim Yeo, shadow agriculture minister, one of the few British MPs to
have taken an interest in the oil question. But the idea that technology
will save the situation is without foundation. Digital seismic technology,
which has been available for 40 years, can speed up the finding of small
fields, but it cannot bring into existence the giant new provinces that
we would need to sustain the world's demand for energy. Ingenious ways
of squeezing the last available barrels from each waning oil well can make
no more than a few percentage points of difference on the downward slope
after a field has passed its peak.
The second breakdown in the well-behaved thinking of market economics
arises from a failure to grasp the significance of the peak in the oil
supply. Standard economics deals happily with "quantities"; but, in the
matter of providing the energy which underpins the global economy, there
is a sense in which quantity is irrelevant. There is still a large quantity
of oil in the ground; we are probably not even halfway through the total
quantity of recoverable oil. What matters is not how much remains, but
the turning point at which the flow of oil hits its peak and starts to
turn down. It is here that what the market needs, and what the industry
can produce, start to diverge.
When, after the turning-point, the flow of oil begins to decline, three
things happen: some people have to go without; competition for the reduced
supply of oil becomes fierce; and, quite suddenly, time is no longer on
the side of good order in the market, as the oil supply declines at a rate
which could be as much as 3 per cent per year. A gap opens up between the
need for oil and the reduced quantity actually flowing. Prices are set
by the marginal barrel of oil sold to a market which cannot get enough.
The third way in which oil insults the received rules of economics is
that it cannot usefully be discussed in abstract terms such as "reduced
dependency" and "falling percentages." Recent commentary by the press and
the government has persistently argued that the world's dependency on oil
has declined during the last three decades, so that the market is much
less vulnerable to price rises and disruptions affecting oil than it was
in, say, 1973. Certainly, this is the British government's position: "People
have substituted away from oil," wrote John Battle, the then energy minister,
in 1998. This theme was taken up by Helen Liddell, for whom "the declining
reliance of the world economy on oil" is another of the factors which "counterbalance
fears regarding the peak in oil production." The Financial Times unflappably
calculates the effect of high oil prices on corporate profits. At $40 a
barrel, it would merely reduce corporate profit growth from 13 per cent
to 12 per cent. No problem. The FT says: "These projections reflect the
fact that the corporate sector--and western economies as a whole--have
become far less dependent on oil. As a proportion of output, OECD oil and
gas imports were three and a half times higher in 1978 than they are now."
None of this makes sense. If oil accounted for just 1 per cent of the
total quantity of energy used, and that 1 per cent provided the fuel for
transport, then, as recent events confirm, disruptions to the supply of
oil can close an economy down within days. Arcane calculations about the
impact of oil prices on growth rates are irrelevant. While it is true that
oil has declined as a percentage of all energy use in the UK since 1973
(from 45 per cent to 33 per cent), the volume of transport, which depends
entirely on oil, has doubled. We are twice as dependent on transport as
we were in 1973. Arguments about "reduced dependency" would be correct
were it not for one problem: we do not fill up our cars with percentages.
The world as a whole uses 30 per cent more oil now than it did in 1970,
and the fact that its consumption of gas has risen many times over does
not mean that it is less oil-dependent; it simply means that it has become
dependent on gas, too. In Britain's case, the consumption of gas and oil
combined has grown from 50 per cent to 70 per cent of energy consumption.
Because, according to the most recent studies, the prospects for gas supplies
in Europe are rather similar to those of oil there is no justification
for arguing that we are less dependent on oil.
The fourth way in which normal economic analysis throws us off the scent
of the oil shock is that it prefers to ignore time-lags. Specifically,
it assumes that renewable sources of energy will come on stream just in
time to take over from oil. All we need to do is wait for the "price signal"
to kick in, so that when oil becomes more expensive, the alternatives will
flood into our homes and cars and solve our problems. This is another piece
of magic for which both the government and the press have fallen. What
is really worrying the Opec countries, argues Anatole Kaletsky in The Times,
is the danger of alternative energy sources bringing the demand for oil
to a premature end. "The Saudis, in particular, realise that oil demand
could collapse well before their kingdom has the chance to sell off its
oil reserves." The British government agrees.
But the development of those alternative energy sources will take a
long time. The government's own target for 2010 is that renewable energy
sources should account for just 1.7 per cent of the total quantity of energy
now used in Britain. A detailed study of the switch to renewable energy
was published by the LTI-Research Group in Mannheim in 1998. It found that,
if the development of renewable energy systems were supported by decisive,
well-coordinated action by governments, in a sustained programme lasting
for 50 years, renewable sources could provide 35 per cent of the energy
used at present.
If more efficient usage of energy and more compact ways of using land
were developed at the same time, that 35 per cent might conceivably give
us all the energy we needed in 50 years time; and if it were given the
highest possible priority, then, perhaps, it could be done in 25 years.
We might therefore think of 25 years as the absolute minimum time it would
take to rebuild Europe's energy economy on renewables. It follows that,
if we wait in the approved economic manner for the market to give the "price
signal" that renewable forms of energy should now be developed, we shall
ensure that the job starts 25 years too late. Even if the shock were postponed
for ten years, while an intensive programme to develop renewables began,
it would still have started 15 years too late to avoid a destabilising
"energy gap."
So it does seem that one reason we find ourselves in this surreal situation,
with devastating change unrecognised by the experts and dismissed by government,
is that the problem falls outside the mind-set of market economics. Expertise,
it seems, trumps common sense. Maybe, for a moment, we should stop thinking,
and just feel the reality of energy famine. In the last few months, there
are already people in the poorer countries who have found that the cost
of paraffin for cooking is beyond their reach.
The economics of oil is now dominated by its close proximity to the
output peak. The steep decline in the discovery of oil since 1965 means
that production, too, must decline, and the turning-point is expected in
2005. Recent rises in oil prices suggest that the very high prices associated
with a peak in 2005 are in their early stages. There may well be short-term
fluctuations around more moderate prices, even below $30 a barrel; it is
possible that, prompted by high prices, a crash programme of new production
could hold prices down for some time. However, within the period 2001-2003,
the tension between demand and the reduced growth in supply can be expected
to raise prices further. When the market begins to believe that the price
in the future will be higher than the price for delivery straight away,
it will go into "contango": a rush to buy up short-term contracts will
bid up prices, leading to a new equilibrium at a much higher level and
persuading producers that the longer they leave the oil in the ground,
the better the price they will get. A painful stand-off between high prices
and flattened demand will persist for a period--five years, maybe--before
supply collapses into its definitive decline.
None of that would necessarily matter very much if the world had spent
the last 25 years urgently preparing alternative energies, conservation
technologies and patterns of land-use with a much lower dependence on transport.
As it is, however, the long-expected shock finds us unprepared.
And the consequences? Worldwide, the two main purposes for which oil
is used are food and transport. Agriculture is entirely dependent on oil
for cultivation and for pumping water, and on gas for its fertilisers.
And for every calorie of energy used by agriculture itself, five more are
used for processing, storage, and distribution. This dependency on oil
and gas could be reduced if the industrial world switched to a more labour-intensive
and localised form of food production, and to renewable sources of energy,
such as solar and wind power, at various stages in the sequence from farm
to shop, but that brings us again to the minimum transition period of 25
years. In other words, the part played by oil in the provision of food
is non-negotiable; this dependency will force people to go on buying the
oil they need, to the very limit of their resources.
The competition for oil to keep transport moving will be real and raw.
The US will fight hard and dirty, for three reasons. First, its economy
is organised around the assumption of cheap, long-distance transport. Second,
it has a lot of money: it can afford to bid high. Third, the US has an
additional problem: it is facing not just a shortfall in the supply of
oil but, at the same time, a progressive reduction in the supply of gas;
it already relies on gas imports from Canada, whose own reserves are now
depleting rapidly. The timing is bad: just at the moment when the world's
supply of oil begins to decline, the US will have a new and pressing incentive
to increase its consumption.
By being able to afford high prices, the US will export oil scarcity
to the rest of the world. At this point, a number of things begin to unravel.
Poorer countries will be in deep trouble, with an energy famine affecting
transport and spilling over even into food production and distribution.
With daily lives locked into dependency on road transport, consumers will
strain to cope with prices, but the scarcities themselves will persist.
For substantial parts of the global economy, the travel and distribution
on which they depend will not be an option. There will be economic destabilisation.
Governments are now in a dilemma. Is this analysis, with its appalling
implications, to be taken seriously? Can it really be true that the institutional
spokesmen on energy are united in error, and that for good information
western governments must rely on the academic literature, on cautiously
worded statements from official bodies, but above all on independent geologists
and energy analysts, mainly working outside the institutional mainstream?
Will governments, or indeed oppositions, be willing to recognise what the
true situation is before the first consequences of an oil deficit hit the
economy? Probably not: the barrier between rational thinking and institutional
complacency is holding well, and there is no reason to believe that it
is about to be breached.
When governments do eventually acknowledge the problem, the first step
should be to establish a proper dialogue with their publics. The public
needs to be told what the situation is, what the government is proposing
to do about it, and that the effectiveness of any response depends on its
co-operation. The public--which is now alert to the fear that something
strange is happening--will want political leaders who manifestly know what
they are doing.
Second, we need to find out quickly how food security will be affected
by declining oil supplies. In Britain, which imports much of its food,
its own farms could again become the main food suppliers.
Third, governments must organise the quest for alternative energy sources
and conservation technologies. A renewables-based energy system will never
provide the energy needed for transport on the present scale, but solar
and wind technologies need to be applied urgently. (Contrary to popular
belief, hydrogen-driven fuel cells are not an energy source.)
The coming clamour for nuclear power must be rejected. Its high capital
costs would bleed funds out of the more cost-efficient renewable energy
and energy-conservation technologies; its construction-times are long,
its waste problem is still unsolved. In a destabilised economy with the
prospect of unrest, it would be foolish to fill the landscape with nuclear
power stations and uranium stores.
There may be a case, despite the climate change implications, for a
return to coal mining. The problem is that we shall need an energy system,
along with industry and transport, in order to be able to develop the energy
alternatives of the future. The use of coal can help us buy time. Within
a relatively short timescale of a few years, part of the transport system
can be switched over to gas, and part of the electricity grid can be switched
to coal. Coal could be the lesser evil for a limited period, and the increased
emissions of carbon dioxide will be partly compensated for by a decline
in emissions from oil.
Fourth, fuel rationing will have to be put in place. A design for electronic
rationing, "domestic tradable quotas" (DTQs), which allows citizens to
trade their electronic rations--buying additional rations or selling their
surplus--already exists in outline and is ready for development.
The fifth area for government action is international. Here, too, there
is a case for some form of tradable rationing system; the essential structure
of a system of this kind has already been developed to reduce emissions
of the global warming gases. The "Kyoto" structure for international rationing
of emissions could be a useful model for handling oil scarcity.
When citizens are motivated and organised, they can get results. But
we have to be ready for the economic consequences of what lies ahead. The
prosperity of the 20th century was built on cheap oil and gas. Very soon
they will be neither cheap nor reliably available. Even at this late hour,
imagination and leadership can still make a difference.
David Fleming is an independent policy analyst.
Author of:
The Lean Economy: a vision of civility for a world in trouble