Rising energy costs aren’t a joke, I’ve already changed my lifestyle

I was expecting it, of course, but the increase in my energy bill still shocked me into making some changes about the way I live, writes Christine Manby

(Illustration by Tom Ford)

I’ve just received an email from my gas provider reminding me that my direct debit payment is going up this month, to more than twice what it has been for the past year. They assure me I’m still on the right tariff and I couldn’t get my gas anywhere else for less – I’ve checked and they’re right – but all the same, the price rise is a shock. Doubly so given that so far I haven’t received any free socks, such as those sent to the customers of Eon who took part in an energy-saving initiative last year.

Those quite astonishingly ugly Eon-branded socks have, understandably, caused outrage. I think most people would rather have had the fiver it took to make and send them to buy some socks they might actually want to wear. Plain navy blue ones, for example. Likewise, OVO, the energy company that suggested their customers could stay warm and save money by cuddling pets and doing star jumps rather than by turning up the heating, might have done better to divert the money they spent on that bit of PR into a customer discount. How many star jumps does it take to off-set a 100 per cent price hike? I hope somebody is working on an app for that. I suspect it would be hard to hold down a full-time job and fit in enough PE to save a single kilowatt hour.

The socks at least can be used as dusters or made into amusing puppets to entice a reluctant cat into being cuddled for extra warmth. About 10 years ago, another company ran a campaign that involved sending out low-energy light bulbs. I received about 20 over the course of a month. I only have five overhead light fittings in the entire house, so 20 low-energy bulbs should have equated to around 32 years of illumination, if each bulb did the eight years’ service promised. A very generous gift. Except that the bulbs were all bayonet-style and every single light fitting in my house is screw-in. Same for almost everyone I know, and those friends who could have used bayonet bulbs already had a lifetime’s supply of dim and unsatisfactory low-energy freebies of their own.

But no matter how galling it is to be told the bleeding obvious, to be unable to use 20 free lightbulbs, or to receive a pair of unwanted novelty socks days after you’ve taken the huge pile of unwanted novelty socks you received at Christmas to the charity shop, most of us are going to have to do something to mitigate our bigger energy bills. I’ve turned the thermostat down, I’ve been trying to take shorter showers and never turn the oven on to cook fewer than 10 jacket potatoes in one go. I’ve looked into wiring up my exercise bike so that it could at least power my laptop. I’ve even made some draft excluders out of old towels. My great-aunt had a wonderful selection of draft excluders in the shape of sausage dogs. Now there’s an idea that I’m happy to lend to any energy company PR. Why not suggest to your customers that they train their lockdown puppies to sleep across the bottom of the door?

I’ve turned into my late father, turning off lights and putting on more jumpers – I’m typing this in fingerless gloves – but I still feel like I’m hardly making a dent. Each month’s meter reading has me wondering whether I have a sleep disorder that involves my going downstairs and putting the gas fire on high for eight hours every night.

Perhaps I should try a spike hour? I first noticed the #spikehour on an Australian friend’s Instagram feed. Because it usually accompanied a photograph of his children sitting beside a barbecue, I assumed that “spike” must have something to do with chicken skewers. In fact, it refers to an initiative by Australian firm Origin Energy. “Spike hours” are those moments when the grid is suddenly beset by everyone wanting energy at once – such as happens at half time during a big match, when we all decide it’s time for a nice cup of tea. The idea of Origin Energy’s scheme is that when a “spike hour” is announced, willing customers do their best not to use any energy whatsoever for 60 minutes in return for a discount on their bills. Lights off, telly off, no putting on the kettle.

My Instagram friend is enthusiastic about it, greeting it as an opportunity to get his children off their devices and out in the fresh air. I suppose spike hours work well if you’re living on the Gold Coast. At this time of year in London, there is barely an hour in the day when it’s bright enough not to have a light on.

While barbeque season is still such a long way off and a bracing walk on the freezing beach means you’ll need an expensive hot bath when you get home, turning off the power altogether isn’t an option. Perhaps it’s time for the return of that genius campaign from 1976, when the government suggested “save water, bath with a friend” to help preserve supplies of H2O during the long summer drought? It would work equally well for saving on the cost of heating the water.

Ultimately, though, rising energy prices are no joke. Not for those people who can’t afford to treat saving energy as a game. Not for people who, thanks to age or disability or simply having too many other things to do, can’t afford to keep a pet as a hot water bottle substitute or spend a jolly half hour doing star jumps.