Berlin’s new energy strategy is turning heads for reasons that would have seemed unthinkable a decade ago. As the nation grapples with the dual pressures of decarbonisation and energy security, a controversial proposal has emerged: a temporary return to coal-fired power. This development, reported by multiple sources close to the German Chancellery, has sent ripples through climate circles and energy markets alike. To understand why, we must examine the physics of energy density and the arithmetic of emissions.
Germany’s Energiewende, or energy transition, has long been heralded as a global template. Yet the country’s decision to phase out nuclear power in the wake of Fukushima has left it reliant on intermittent renewables and Russian gas. The war in Ukraine has shattered that reliance, revealing a stark gap in baseload capacity. In response, some policymakers are eyeing coal, a fuel with carbon intensity roughly twice that of natural gas. A 500 MW coal plant, running at a typical capacity factor of 60 per cent, emits approximately 2.6 million tonnes of CO2 per year. For context, the entire German transport sector produces roughly 160 million tonnes annually. Even a modest coal restart could add several percentage points to the national carbon footprint.
But here is where the British story enters. The United Kingdom, having successfully transitioned from coal to a mix of gas, wind and nuclear, offers a counterintuitive lesson: regulatory stability and carbon pricing can accelerate green investment while maintaining grid stability. The UK’s Carbon Price Floor, currently at £75 per tonne, has driven coal out of the generation mix entirely. In 2022, coal provided less than 2 per cent of UK electricity, down from over 40 per cent a decade earlier. Germany’s own carbon price, part of the EU Emissions Trading System, hovers around €80 per tonne. Were Berlin to embrace a similar floor, the economics of coal would become prohibitively unattractive.
Yet the comparison is not perfect. Britain’s geography grants it exceptional wind resources and interconnectors to France. Germany, landlocked and with a higher proportion of solar, faces more pronounced seasonal swings. January 2023 saw Germany import record volumes of electricity from neighbours, a signal of strain. Reverting to coal risks locking in emissions for years, given the typical lifespan of power plants. The proposed plan reportedly involves reactivating retired units for a two-year window, but such measures have a habit of extending.
The irony is that a coal comeback could, paradoxically, accelerate the green transition. By providing a stopgap, the German government may avoid activating even dirtier sources like lignite, which has a carbon intensity 50 per cent higher than hard coal. But this is a gamble. The climate system does not discount pollution based on political expediency. The atmospheric residence time of CO2 is centuries. Every tonne we emit today commits future generations to higher temperatures.
For my part, the data suggests a different path. Germany could instead fast-track grid storage and demand response technologies. Battery storage costs have fallen by 80 per cent since 2010, and compressed air storage offers longer-duration options. The technology exists; it is the political will that lags. The British model, for all its flaws, demonstrates that clarity of purpose and pricing can reshape an entire energy system.
As this story develops, the key metric will be emissions intensity per kilowatt-hour. If Germany can keep coal as a short-term bridge, not a destination, and pair it with binding commitments to renewables, the narrative may shift from setback to setback. But the window is narrowing. The next few weeks will determine whether the global example of Britain’s coal phaseout remains an outlier or becomes a blueprint.
