Article 10 of our Water Stress series is now up, and it starts with an apparent contradiction. Our winters are getting wetter. So why are we worrying about running out of water in summer? The more I've looked into this, the more I think we need to stop thinking only about how much rain falls during a year and start thinking about what happens to that water after it arrives. Some soaks into the soil. Some replenishes aquifers. Some fills ponds, wetlands and reservoirs. But some races from roofs, roads and fields into drains and rivers, contributes to flooding and then continues downstream. This led me back to an idea from the last article: the water budget. If a particular winter delivers more rain than the historical average, we can actually calculate that additional rainfall. Just 1mm of rain over 1km² represents one million litres of water. So rather than simply saying "that was a very wet winter", what if we started asking how many additional billions of litres fell — and then tried to understand what happened to them? That could give us something really useful: a way of measuring whether our communities are actually becoming more resilient. If we restore wetlands, improve soils, create ponds and reservoirs, recharge aquifers and capture more rain within our towns, the real measure of success isn't how many projects we completed. It's whether more useful water remains available for longer. Do our streams keep flowing further into summer? Do ponds survive longer? Are aquifers better replenished? Do farmers have more stored water? Do we reduce flooding after intense rainfall? This article brings together an idea that has gradually emerged through the series: Slow it. Spread it. Sink it. Store it. We cannot decide when the rain falls. But perhaps we can get much better at deciding what happens to it once it arrives. 🔗 Read Article 10 — Where Did All the Winter Water Go?

Article 8 of my Water Stress series is now up, and this one started with a conversation with a farmer. He is spending around £750,000 turning one of his fields into a reservoir so he can store water for periods when there isn't enough rain. As we stood there, he told me that 32mm of rain had fallen across his 5,000-acre farm in just two hours. That works out at something approaching 650 million litres of water. The rain had watered everything: crops, fields, trees, hedgerows and wildflowers. No irrigation pipes had to be moved. No pumps were running. No energy was consumed. But there was too much water, too quickly. Some newly laid crops were actually lifted from the soil. And later in the year, there may not be enough. That contradiction is at the heart of this article. We need to get better at moving water through time — keeping some of the water that arrives during wet periods until we need it during dry ones. But how? I look at everything from farm reservoirs, ponds, wetlands, soils and aquifers to the much bigger infrastructure being proposed here in Hampshire, including the controversial plans to recycle wastewater, pump it to Havant Thicket Reservoir and eventually move water towards where it is needed. I'm not trying to decide that one solution is right and another wrong. Instead, I think we need to get much better at asking: Are we solving the right water problem — and have we properly compared the alternatives? How much reliable water does each provide? What does it cost? How much energy and carbon does it require? What happens to wildlife and the landscape? What happens if it fails? And could a solution solve several problems at the same time? One idea kept coming back to me: Slow it. Spread it. Sink it. Store it. Perhaps before finding increasingly complicated ways of creating and moving more water, we should get much better at looking after the water that already falls on us. 🔗 Read Article 8: Are We Solving the Right Water Problem?

Today we’re releasing a special bonus lesson in the billionaire - climate series: Is Ethical Billionaire Wealth Possible? — separating personal virtue from systemic design. This lesson tackles the question that almost everyone asks at some point in the series:“ But what about the good ones?” “What about the generous billionaires?” “Can’t someone be rich and ethical?” This lesson gives a clear and grounded answer — and it reframes the entire conversation. 👉 Start the lesson here: 🔥 What you’ll learn today In this lesson, we explore the difference between personal ethics and system requirements. You’ll learn why billionaire status requires: - global scale - very low marginal costs - labour arbitrage or automation - externalised environmental costs - tax-minimising structures - financial engineering - favourable political conditions …and how each requirement functions like a filter, removing ethical pathways and rewarding extractive ones. The key insight: A person can be ethical. A billionaire cannot be created ethically inside the current system. The system is the issue — not the individual. We also explore what this means for climate justice, democracy, and the future of wealth. 💬 Your Activity for Today Question: Do you think billionaire wealth could ever be ethical — or does the structure of the system make that impossible? Why? You might reflect on: - the role of lobbying - global labour inequality - environmental costs - tax rules - shareholder pressure - monopolies - subsidies and public money - the difference between giving money away and how it was made - Even a short reflection can open up a powerful discussion.

Here’s a great new video looking at what 1.5, 2.0, 3.0 and 4.0 degC rise in temperature means for the planet and it’s people.

When we followed the journey from a wheat field to a loaf of bread, we discovered something surprising. The story wasn't really about bread. It was about energy, soil, water, transport, global trade, finance, supermarkets, farming, and the countless decisions that shape what finally appears on our shelves. Now we're taking the next step. We're asking a bigger question: What incentives shape those decisions? Why are farmers under pressure while food prices keep rising? Why do a handful of buyers have so much influence? Why do systems that produce abundance also create insecurity? The new lessons don't start with villains or conspiracies. They start with a simple observation: People and organisations usually respond to the incentives in front of them. When those incentives reward short-term extraction rather than long-term stewardship, the consequences appear everywhere—from our food system to housing, healthcare, education, and even the way our economies are measured. The loaf of bread was never just about bread. It was a window into how our world works. If we want to build more resilient communities, we first need to understand the systems that shape our everyday lives. That's what this new series is about. 🌱 Understand the system. See the connections. Build better futures together.