The lights are going out across Cuba, a stark reminder of the fragility of an energy system tethered to imported fossil fuels and ageing infrastructure. Rolling blackouts have become a daily occurrence, leaving millions without power for hours on end, and the island’s government is scrambling for solutions. As a climate correspondent who has watched this crisis develop, I see a clear parallel: the UK’s aggressive push into renewables could offer a template, but only if Cuba can navigate the formidable economic and political obstacles that stand in its way.
Cuba’s energy grid is a textbook case of systemic vulnerability. The country relies heavily on imported oil, much of it from Venezuela, a supply that has dwindled amid economic sanctions and production declines. Its power plants are decades old, operating well below capacity due to poor maintenance and lack of spare parts. The result is a supply-demand gap that widens daily, triggering outages that disrupt everything from hospital operations to water pumps. The human cost is immense: spoiled food, stalled businesses, and a simmering public frustration that threatens social stability.
The UK’s experience offers a starkly contrasting narrative. Over the past decade, the UK has slashed its reliance on coal, ramped up wind and solar capacity, and built a regulatory framework that incentivizes distributed generation. Offshore wind alone now supplies over a quarter of the country’s electricity, and onshore renewables are increasingly competitive with gas. Critically, the UK has also invested in grid modernisation, including battery storage and interconnectors, to manage the intermittency of renewables. This is not a perfect system, but it is a resilient one, far less vulnerable to the geopolitical shocks that cripple fossil-fuel-dependent nations.
For Cuba, the path to energy resilience would require a massive shift in investment and policy. The island is blessed with abundant solar, wind, and even biomass resources from its sugar cane industry. Small-scale solar installations are already popping up, but they are piecemeal and often illegal due to government restrictions on private generation. The state utility, UNE, remains a monopoly, and its financial woes make large-scale projects unfeasible without foreign aid or investment. Yet, the UK’s model shows that the transition can be staged: start with rooftop solar for critical facilities, then scale up to utility-sized wind farms, all while reforming the grid to handle distributed inputs.
The scientific reality is clear: Cuba’s blackouts are not a natural disaster; they are a direct consequence of a fossil-fuel-dependent system that is both economically and ecologically unsustainable. And here, the climate crisis compounds the urgency. The Caribbean is a hot spot for extreme weather, from hurricanes to heatwaves, which further strain the grid. Every blackout is a small-scale climate catastrophe, and the only long-term solution is to decarbonize the energy supply. The UK’s emissions have fallen by over 40% since 1990, largely due to the renewable transition. Cuba could achieve similar reductions, but it needs to start now.
There are pragmatic steps that can be taken immediately. International donors and climate funds should prioritize grid resilience in vulnerable island nations like Cuba. Technical assistance from countries with successful renewable programmes, such as the UK, could help train local engineers and set up microgrids. And Cuba must relax its restrictions on private energy generation, allowing homes and businesses to install solar panels and sell excess power back to the grid. This is not just an environmental imperative; it is a matter of national security and public health.
The UK’s renewable revolution was driven by policy, not miracle technology. It involved carbon pricing, renewable obligations, and subsidies that sparked a wave of innovation. Cuba, with its limited access to capital and ongoing embargo constraints, cannot simply replicate that model. But the principles are universal: diversify energy sources, modernize the grid, and empower citizens to generate their own power. The lights will not come back on in Cuba because of a single oil shipment. They will come back on when the energy system is rebuilt from the ground up, with renewables at its core.
As a scientist, I deal in probabilities, not hope. But even the data points to a clear truth: the islands of the Caribbean are living laboratories of climate vulnerability. Their struggles are a preview of what awaits the rest of the world if we fail to accelerate the energy transition. Cuba’s blackouts are a tragedy, but they are also a window of opportunity. The UK’s model offers a lifeline, but only if we have the will to grasp it.
