IN WALES, water looms large in the political imagination. From Claerwen and Clywedog to the drowning of Capel Celyn, incursive developments have often brought little or no benefit, but demanded enormous sacrifices. Entire communities have been uprooted so reservoirs could serve needs beyond our borders, offering little in return.

While water falls from the skies over Wales and flows freely through its watercourses, the structures that control it are anything but free. Billions of litres leave our borders every year. The rules that govern water pricing, investment, and export are set by regulations we didn’t wholly design, enforced in institutions we don’t run. For a nation with abundant resources and deep environmental traditions, that reality is frustrating.

Take a walk around Lake Vyrnwy or the Elan Valley, and you’ll see the reservoirs that supply homes far beyond Wales. Yet the power to determine how these resources are managed still largely rests in London. The economic return? Minimal. The democratic oversight? Virtually non-existent.

Despite the not-for-profit status of Dwr Cymru, which supplies much of Wales, water bills are rising sharply, with households now paying average increases of 27 per cent. Behind the facade of an ethical utility lies a familiar story: eye-watering executive salaries, environmental failures, and a growing sense of public betrayal. In 2021, the chief executive of Dwr Cymru received nearly £900,000 — a kick in the teeth for the average paying customer.

For a model meant to stand apart from the cowboys and con-artists of privatised utilities, it’s looking uncomfortably similar.

Meanwhile, Hafren Dyfrdwy, a subsidiary of the FTSE-listed Severn Trent, continues to operate in parts of north-east and mid-Wales. Its profits head to shareholders. Its accountability stops at the border.

When “reset” means more of the same

We are told that nationalising water is too expensive. That devolving regulatory powers would be too complex. That introducing an export levy would disrupt existing agreements. But make no mistake: these are not technical limitations. They are political decisions, designed to preserve a broken status quo.

In 2024, the British government launched an Independent Commission on the Water Sector. This was billed as a chance to “reset” an ailing system plagued by pollution and profiteering. But even before its interim findings were released on Tuesday, its boundaries had already been drawn in red ink. Public ownership and devolution to Wales were off-limits.

Instead, the commission recommended what can only be described as cosmetic change: more transparency, tighter regulation, and vague promises of long-term investment. All welcome in theory, but none address the root injustice. The commission may speak of reform, but it dares not challenge the profit model that has poisoned both our rivers and public trust.

Environmental campaigners, including groups like Surfers Against Sewage, have called this approach “tinkering around the edges.” They’re right. What is needed is not management tweaks, but a total rethink of who water is for: who it’s controlled by and for whose benefit.

The case is simple, and it is urgent. Wales must take back full control of its water system — policy, infrastructure, regulation, and strategy. We must end the fiction that water can be both a public necessity and a private commodity. That begins with nationalisation.

Turning the tide

Water is not a business. It should not reward executives with six-figure bonuses. All Welsh water services — Dwr Cymru and Hafren Dyfrdwy alike — must be brought under direct public control. Cap pay, ban bonuses, and reinvest every pound back into infrastructure, clean water and bringing people’s bills down.

Furthermore, decisions about our water must be made here, not in Westminster. Regulatory powers, pricing mechanisms, and investment planning must be transferred in full. There is no rational argument for denying Wales the powers already held by Scotland. When our natural resources benefit others, a fair return should come back to Wales. A fair levy on exported water would provide vital funding for environmental protection and public services.

Control of essential services — whether water, rail, or energy — should not be seen as radical. It is the baseline of modern governance. Yet in Wales, we are still asking for permission to govern what is already ours.

We have the resources. We have the expertise. We have the moral case. What we need now is the political will to act. The longer we delay, the higher the cost — to our environment, to our economy, and to our communities.

The story of Welsh water is a story of imbalance — of resources taken and accountability flouted. If water is life, then control over water is nothing less than a right. And in Wales, that right is long overdue for reclaiming.

Luke Fletcher is Plaid Cymru member of the Senedd for the South Wales West region.