
I’M NOT sure about luck. An island of coal, surrounded by fish, and flush with the ill-gotten gains of slavery, the British state stole a march — along with a great deal more — from the world to industrialise early and forge the rules of the great game still being played out to this day.
The discovery of North Sea oil and gas in the 1960s was heralded as being every bit as significant. The oil price “crisis” of the early seventies made it even more economical to extract, the privately owned oil majors piled in and Britain’s political class of all stripes appeared to understand the need for the state to at least have some sort of stake — if not for ideological reasons, for reasons of national security.
It should now be plain to see that the gold rush ended in the way every one before it did, with the rich richer, and the poorest left wandering the land scavenging for something to cash in at the scrappy. Great machines, monstrous rigs that made millionaires and billionaires towed in to join the queue for the gas axe.

