With decades of experience in energy management and electricity delivery, Christopher Hailstone is a leading expert on the intricacies of our public utilities. His work offers critical insights into the complex challenges of grid reliability, infrastructure resilience, and regulatory oversight. In this interview, we explore the recent South East Water crisis through his expert lens, discussing the cascade of technical and communication failures, the stark contrast between corporate compensation and public impact, and the long-term vulnerabilities that threaten our essential services.
Regulator Marcus Rink stated the company was “flying blind,” citing inadequate coagulation management and a lack of electronic data. Can you walk us through what that means from a technical perspective and how such a fundamental failure could happen at a modern treatment facility?
The phrase “flying blind” is incredibly damning, and from a technical standpoint, it points to a catastrophic failure of basic process control. The coagulation stage is the very heart of water treatment; it’s where you remove impurities. For a regulator to state there was no electronic data collection on this process is almost unbelievable in this day and age. It suggests they were relying on manual checks and interventions, which is a recipe for disaster when water chemistry can change rapidly. This wasn’t just a single part failing; it was the entire system of oversight. The report of poor filter performance and reduced backwash capacity tells a story of a plant that was limping along, likely for months, with its problems being patched over instead of properly addressed. It’s a systemic breakdown, not a sudden, unpredictable event.
The Drinking Water Inspectorate noted the treatment works was “operating suboptimally” for months before the crisis was declared, yet the public only learned of the problem when their taps ran dry. Could you elaborate on how this kind of operational creep can lead to a full-blown emergency and what it says about the company’s internal reporting?
This is a classic case of what we call “normalization of deviance.” When a system runs in a degraded or “suboptimal” state for a long time, it starts to be seen as the new normal. Small alarms get ignored, and manual workarounds become routine. The problem is that these layers of risk build up silently until a single stressor—in this case, possibly a change in water chemistry from the hot summer—causes the whole fragile system to collapse. The fact that deadlines for restoring service were repeatedly extended tells you everything about their internal awareness. It shows they didn’t have a true handle on the situation. Each time they thought they had a fix, they likely uncovered another underlying problem they had been ignoring. It’s a reactive, chaotic approach that signals a deep-seated disconnect between the front-line reality and senior management’s understanding of their own infrastructure.
With local businesses estimating £20 million in losses, South East Water has set aside £2.5 million for compensation. From your experience with utility regulation, how is such a figure typically determined, and what does this discrepancy suggest about the company’s view of its community impact?
That enormous gap between the £20 million community estimate and the £2.5 million compensation fund is unfortunately quite typical. Utilities often calculate compensation based on tightly defined regulatory formulas that cover direct, provable losses and statutory payments, not the full spectrum of economic damage. They aren’t accounting for lost foot traffic, reputational harm, or canceled bookings that businesses suffered. Setting aside £2.5 million is a financial and legal calculation, not an empathetic one. It’s designed to meet the minimum requirement and close the book on the incident. This vast difference sends a clear message that the company’s financial liability is walled off from the real-world pain and economic devastation experienced by the 24,000 affected properties and the surrounding businesses. The process for claiming this compensation is often opaque, adding another layer of frustration for those already harmed.
The CEO identified the single supply point for the area as a major vulnerability, but the permanent fix at Bewl Water isn’t slated for completion until 2028. What are the practical challenges that lead to such a long timeline, and what should be happening in the interim to protect residents?
Building major water infrastructure is a monumental undertaking, and a timeline stretching to 2028, while agonizingly long for residents, isn’t surprising. These projects involve years of planning, environmental impact studies, public consultation, land acquisition, and complex engineering design before a single shovel can hit the ground. However, pointing to a long-term solution does nothing for the people living with that vulnerability for the next several years. In the interim, a responsible utility should be implementing a host of stopgap measures. This includes investing heavily in predictive monitoring at the existing plant, establishing emergency interconnects with neighboring water systems if possible, and pre-positioning assets like emergency water tankers and temporary treatment units. The silence on any robust interim plan is just as concerning as the initial failure itself; it suggests they are simply asking the community to cross their fingers and hope it doesn’t happen again.
During the crisis, the chief executive, David Hinton, avoided speaking directly to the media, reportedly to ensure his “key message” was delivered. In your view, what is the role of leadership during a public utility failure, and how does that kind of communication strategy impact public trust?
In a crisis of this magnitude, the role of a leader is to be visible, accountable, and empathetic. Hiding from the press is the absolute worst thing you can do. Public trust is your most valuable asset, and it evaporates the moment people feel you are unwilling to face them. His concern that he’d be asked about his £400,000 salary and bonus reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of the situation. Of course, he was going to be asked those questions—because it’s about accountability. By avoiding them, he made the story about his own unwillingness to lead from the front. The “key message” he wanted to deliver becomes irrelevant if the public doesn’t trust the messenger. True leadership means standing up, taking the difficult questions, and showing the affected people that you understand their suffering and are personally committed to making it right. This was a profound failure of crisis communication.
What is your forecast for the frequency of these types of water supply crises in the UK, given the challenges of aging infrastructure and the impact of climate change on water chemistry?
My forecast, unfortunately, is that we will see these events become more frequent and more severe. What happened in Kent and Sussex is a textbook example of the collision course we are on. We have an aging infrastructure that has been underfunded for decades, leaving it brittle and with very little operational headroom. At the same time, climate change is throwing new and unpredictable challenges at these fragile systems. The theory that a hot summer changed the reservoir’s water chemistry, which in turn overwhelmed a “suboptimally” operating plant, is precisely the kind of scenario experts have been warning about. The systems were designed for a stable climate that no longer exists. Unless there is a massive, sustained national commitment to proactively upgrading our infrastructure and building resilience, we are simply waiting for the next town or city to find its taps have run dry.
