A Grumpy Old Man tries to Help the Planet
Apologies for ranting about this scourge of our times.
About 7 years ago, I determined to augment the extension to my house with solar PV panels on the roof and a Tesla battery in the garage.
My motivations were primarily selfish, I admit: some capital investment now to reap inexpensive or free energy for years to come, plus the benefit of topping up the battery overnight when mains electricity is cheaper in the UK. This last benefit comes into its own during the winter months when the sun in Britain refuses to shine brightly enough even to register as ‘shining’.
As all of you will be aware, Britain does ‘rain’ really well. We have all types known to mankind: there’s a peculiarly northern version called ‘mizzle’ – a cross between mist and very fine drizzle. Then there’s a version which is best described by saying what it does. Imagine you have just unwrapped something in your kitchen and you want to throw away the wrapping. But the kitchen waste bin is full up.
‘I’ll just nip out to the dustbin – won’t be a second.’
A glance out of the window leads you to conclude that it’s barely raining at all. Not worth putting on a raincoat. So you walk briskly towards the dustbin, dump in the bin bag, look up at the sky quickly as though to confirm your earlier assessment and return indoors.
This type of rain will have managed to soak your shirt and trousers completely in just that short space of time. ‘But I didn’t think it was raining much…’ This type is sneaky. I don’t have a name for it. Perhaps you could suggest one..?
Then there are more conventional degrees of rain – we start with proper drizzle. Then pulses of rain as clouds pass overhead, sometimes turned by strong wind into horizontal needles to attack exposed flesh. Next come serious downpours (‘Raining cats and dogs’) and finally near-Biblical monsoons. These are always brief, but somehow timed to the few seconds when you want to dash from your car into a shop. The car windscreen wipers won’t have been able to cope, even on the maximum Silly Speed. You’ll have crawled along, peering through partially misted glass, hoping none of the numerous puddles hide treacherous potholes to threaten your tyres, wheel rims and suspension.
My point is that we Brits have to make the most of those precious months of sunshine.
I’d remained with the same provider of electricity since first moving in. Like everyone else, I fumed when they raised their energy prices. But what I found most egregious was that they also raised their so-called ‘standing charge’. This is the hitherto unvarying daily amount one must pay for the privilege of being connected to the Grid.
Raising the standing charge means that even if a responsible consumer cuts back their energy consumption to the minimum, they still end up paying more …for less energy! This offends my basic sense of fairness. Why did they raise the standing charge? Do they suddenly need more vans to service the network? Have the costs of provided power sky-rocketed in the last six months?
I tried telephoning their Help Desk.
You know what’s coming, I’m sure. I endured long spells listening to cheerful, faux classical muzak, interspersed with finely modulated voices assuring me that my call was important to them. However, all their colleagues were currently helping other customers. Most callers, I was interested to learn, found immediate answers to their queries by going online to access the ‘Frequently Asked Questions’ section of the provider’s website.
Now, this particular piece of automated advice I find especially irritating. For one thing, if these questions are asked so frequently, does it not occur to the company that they might want to address the problem? Secondly, none of these ‘FAQs’ relate to what I want to know. Clearly, not enough others have a problem with their standing charges rising inexorably quarter by quarter. Or it would feature as an ‘FAQ’.
Sometimes, while waiting on hold, a call would interrupt me with a work diversion. Occasionally, my body would decide that past liquid consumption dictated a ‘natural break’. Of course, Sod’s Law would come into effect and an operative at the power company would cut the muzak and ask how they might help. By the time I returned from the bathroom, the line would be dead and I’d have to start afresh.
So frustrating.
I tried writing my concerns into an online ‘chat’ facility on the website. Apparently, the company does not employ real people to respond to these enquiries. Several maddening attempts later, during one of which I confess to throwing a slipper at the computer screen, I decided I was arguing with a computer programme. And gave up.
What to do? If I cannot speak with a sensible person or have an email exchange, I can only vote with my feet.
About this time, advertisements for another provider, ‘Octopus’, popped up on one of my media feeds. A number of my friends have expressed satisfaction at their level of service and price structure, so why don’t I change? The UK’s most-read consumer magazine, ‘Which’, recommends Octopus too.
I resolved to switch my account.
In all fairness, switching the main electricity supply to the new provider was fast and near painless. Hooray!
But because my PV array sometimes generates much more electricity than I can use or the battery will hold, my wiring setup returns that excess power to the National Grid. My provider is supposed to pay me for that power.
For reasons beyond my ken, switching this element of my account is far harder. I can do it all online. This sounds like a boon: I’m not entirely computer illiterate. But the questions asked of the consumer are technical in nature and larded with all the jargon that entails.
My ‘FIT’ application needs to be accompanied by an MCS certificate, an EPC, the original invoice from the company which supplied the photovoltaic panels, a photograph of the generation meter, either a mortgage agreement or deeds to my house, my DNO handover document and I have to choose whether the generation meter is located:
“A 2a. Between the renewable installation and the battery, meaning it only measures the output from the installation.
Or
B 2b. After both the renewable installation and the battery, but is a bi-directional meter capable of measuring input and output electricity, as well as calculating and displaying a net value reading.”
I’m amazed they didn’t want my inside leg measurement as well.
Because electrickery isn’t a strong suit for me and there seem to be an awful lot of important-looking wires connecting assorted boxes on the garage wall, I resorted to asking the company which did the installation all those years ago. Their records and customer service were exemplary. I recommend The Little Green Energy Company to anybody wanting to install electricity generation equipment.
But having agreed with the Fraud warning and pressed ‘Return’ to submit my online application, another screen appeared cautioning that Octopus are overwhelmed with people doing the same thing. I may have to wait for six weeks or so. And Heaven help me if there are errors in my documentation!
AAAAAARRRRRGGGHHH!
