Labour accused of ‘ideological political vandalism’ over assault on North Sea oil and gas

The boss of the Ineos energy division has accused Labour of ‘ideological political vandalism’ over its assault on the North Sea.

Brian Gilvary lambasted Ed Miliband over his refusal to grant new drilling licences and Rachel Reeves over the windfall tax on oil and gas profits ‘in an era defined by energy uncertainty’.

And he said the ‘self-defeating’ policies risk ‘hollowing out’ the jobs, industrial know-how and investment required for the transition to clean energy over the coming years.

‘Proponents argue that restricting North Sea development sends a moral signal,’ said Gilvary, who served as chief finance officer at BP for eight years and is now chairman of Ineos Energy. 

‘But signals do not heat homes, power factories, create jobs or stabilise markets. Nor do they meaningfully alter global demand trajectories. What they can do, however, is leave a country exposed.’

The comments came as the Iran war exposes Britain’s vulnerability to surging global energy prices as a major importer of oil and gas.

Miliband is under mounting pressure to change course and open up the North Sea by giving the green light to drilling the Jackdaw gas and Rosebank oil fields.

Donald Trump this month branded Labour’s ‘tragic’ refusal to exploit lucrative oil and gas reserves ‘absolutely crazy’ and urged the UK to ‘drill, baby, drill’.

And the Chancellor is facing calls to scrap the windfall tax that industry bosses argue is hitting investment and jobs.

The so-called Energy Profits Levy has raised the headline tax rate on oil and gas profits to 78 per cent – among the highest in the world.

Writing on the Daily Mail online, Gilvary said: ‘At a moment when energy security has reasserted itself as a first-order geopolitical concern, Britain finds itself pursuing a policy that can only be described as wilfully self-harming.

‘The refusal by Ed Miliband to open new North Sea licences, combined with Rachel Reeves’ continued reliance on the Energy Profits Levy, amounts not to a coherent transition strategy, but to a form of ideological political vandalism.

‘This is not a debate about whether the world should transition away from fossil fuels. It should, and it will. The question is whether that transition is managed pragmatically or driven by political symbolism detached from reality.’

Last year was the first since 1964 that no new wells were drilled in the British North Sea – with the industry blaming the windfall tax and Miliband’s ban on licences for exploration in new areas.

Britain has become increasingly reliant on oil and gas imports while some argue that tax revenues from new North Sea drilling could be used to ease the pressure on households and businesses battered by soaring fuel and energy bills.

‘Britain is choosing to accelerate dependence on imports,’ said Gilvary.

‘The molecules do not disappear; they simply come from elsewhere, often with higher carbon intensity, weaker regulatory oversight, and greater geopolitical risk.

‘Closing the North Sea in all but name does nothing to reduce global emissions. It merely exports production, jobs, tax revenue, and strategic leverage.’

He added: ‘In an era defined by energy uncertainty, choosing to diminish one’s own capacity is not virtue. It is vandalism.’

Political symbolism detached from reality 

By Brian Gilvary, chairman of Ineos Energy

At a moment when energy security has reasserted itself as a first-order geopolitical concern, Britain finds itself pursuing a policy that can only be described as wilfully self-harming. The refusal by Ed Miliband to open new North Sea licences, combined with Rachel Reeves’ continued reliance on the Energy Profits Levy, amounts not to a coherent transition strategy, but to a form of ideological political vandalism.

This is not a debate about whether the world should transition away from fossil fuels. It should, and it will. The question is whether that transition is managed pragmatically or driven by political symbolism detached from reality.

The global reality is uncomfortable but undeniable: oil and gas demand remains resilient, coal is resurgent in the Asian economies. From Europe’s ongoing vulnerability following the rupture of Russian supply chains, to Asia’s surging demand, hydrocarbons continue to underpin modern economies. Supply constraints, whether from underinvestment, geopolitical shocks, or policy choices, translate directly into higher prices, volatility, and strategic dependence.

What is too often omitted from this debate is that hydrocarbons are not merely fuels; they are foundational inputs into vast industrial and social value chains. Natural gas is the primary feedstock for ammonia, and therefore fertiliser, without which global agricultural yields would collapse. Petrochemicals underpin the manufacture of plastics, solvents, and synthetic materials embedded in everything from packaging to construction. 

Critically, the modern healthcare system is deeply reliant on hydrocarbon derivatives: medical-grade plastics for syringes, IV lines, and sterile packaging; pharmaceuticals synthesised from petrochemical intermediates; and the energy-intensive processes that sustain hospitals and cold-chain logistics. 

To treat oil and gas as optional relics is to misunderstand their systemic role. Curtailing domestic production does not eliminate these dependencies; it simply displaces them, often into supply chains that are less secure, less transparent, and more carbon-intensive.

Against this backdrop, the UK’s approach looks increasingly anomalous. Rather than stewarding its own declining but still valuable resources like Denmark, Britain is choosing to accelerate dependence on imports. The molecules do not disappear; they simply come from elsewhere, often with higher carbon intensity, weaker regulatory oversight, and greater geopolitical risk.

Closing the North Sea in all but name does nothing to reduce global emissions. It merely exports production, jobs, tax revenue, and strategic leverage.

The Energy Profits Levy compounds the problem. Initially framed as a temporary windfall tax, it has evolved into a structural deterrent to investment. The UK Continental Shelf is a mature basin, already competing globally for capital. Layering fiscal instability on top of geological decline sends a clear signal: invest elsewhere.

And investors have listened.

Capital that might have been deployed in extending the life of existing fields, or in funding the very transition technologies policymakers champion, carbon capture, electrification, offshore integration, is being redirected to jurisdictions offering clarity and consistency. Norway, notably, has demonstrated that it is possible to combine high environmental standards with stable fiscal terms and continued production. The UK, by contrast, is eroding both.

What makes this particularly self-defeating is that the North Sea is not merely an oil and gas province; it is an industrial ecosystem. The skills, supply chains, and capital embedded within it are precisely those required for the energy transition. Undermining that base risks hollowing out the very capabilities needed to build a lower-carbon future.

There is also a question of fairness and economic competence. Households and industries face elevated energy costs driven in part by global supply tightness. At the same time, domestic production is discouraged, and the tax regime disincentivises reinvestment. The result is a policy mix that raises costs while weakening resilience—a rare combination of economic inefficiency and political short-sightedness.

Proponents argue that restricting North Sea development sends a moral signal. But signals do not heat homes, power factories, create jobs or stabilise markets. Nor do they meaningfully alter global demand trajectories. What they can do, however, is leave a country exposed.

A serious energy policy would recognise three concurrent truths: that the transition must accelerate; that hydrocarbons will remain part of the system for decades; and that domestic production, under rigorous standards, is preferable to imported alternatives. It would align fiscal policy with investment needs, rather than using taxation as a blunt instrument. And it would treat energy security not as an afterthought, but as a core component of national strategy.

Britain once understood this. The North Sea was developed not just as an economic asset, but as a strategic one. Today, that legacy risks being squandered, not by necessity, but by choice.

In an era defined by energy uncertainty, choosing to diminish one’s own capacity is not virtue. It is vandalism.