Features

Professor Sir John Beddington of the Oxford Martin School explains the Oxford Martin Principles for Climate-Conscious Investment

The 2015 Paris Agreement was the culmination of 21 years of negotiations about how the world could deal with climate change. The outcome is a challenge for the world’s countries to limit temperature rise to below 1.5°C, if at all possible, and below 2°C, if absolutely necessary. But, nearly 3 years on, how we get from here to there remains unclear, and the private sector in particular is woefully far behind.

The effective mitigation of greenhouse gas emissions on a global scale will involve the reshaping of an economic system that in many respects, and for many generations, has been an efficient creator of human wealth and capital. For the commercial and investment communities, taking action on climate change will often be painful, particularly for short-term returns. And faced with uncertainty, inaction often feels like the natural choice. Inaction will, however, without a doubt, be more painful. This is most acutely the case for corporations who do not react nimbly and pre-emptively to the low carbon transition. If those corporations fail to thrive, their shareholders, suppliers and customers are equally implicated: shareholders via falling returns, suppliers by falling revenues and margins, and customers via diminishing choices.

The risk from inaction on the part of corporations comes both in the form of ill-preparedness for new policy and regulation, and in the longer-term, from physical risks from climate change on a company’s core activity and its supply chains. Listed corporations have fiduciary duties to their shareholders to anticipate and adapt to these risks. Yet companies are not alone in feeling unable to react to the current tangled skeins of guidance over assessing, disclosing and acting on climate-change related business risk.

The Oxford Martin School has funded a group of researchers, Dr Richard Millar, Professor Cameron Hepburn, and Professor Myles Allen, to develop a simple, scientifically-grounded set of principles that provide clarity for investors and for company strategists in analysing a business in the light of what we know about climate change and the likely path of mitigation. We have named them the Oxford Martin Principles for Climate-Conscious Investment.

The Oxford Martin School funded this work with the Sullivan Principles in mind. These were used in the 1970s by investors, customers and suppliers of corporations doing business under the South African apartheid regime. The challenge of doing business under climate change presents a similar moral conundrum. Like the Sullivan Principles, the Oxford Martin Principles are designed to have a material impact on corporate decision-making. Like the Sullivan Principles they provide a more sophisticated alternative to simple divestment for the investment community to use. And like the Sullivan Principles, they help, by setting out clear guidelines of what is expected of companies as they navigate a contemporary moral maze.

The principles, published last week in Nature Climate Change, are as follows:
1. Commit to reaching net zero emissions from their business activities
2. Develop a plausible and profitable net zero business model
3. Set out quantitative mid-term targets compatible with their net zero goals

The Oxford Martin Principles should be seen both as a code of conduct and a set of tools for existing and potential investors. They prompt three deceptively simple questions: first, is this company committed to moving to net zero emissions for its own activities? Second, under current plans, will this business be profitable in a net zero economy? And third, can the company provide quantitative mid-term targets that are consistent with its net zero goal? In the paper, these questions are applied to three companies with very different business models: BHP Billiton, Unilever and Statkraft. The case studies reflect that whilst most companies would not be able to claim compliance with all three principles today, to do so is not unachievable in the future.

Simply put, these Principles are a call for companies to commit to net zero; to remain profitable; and to be verifiable. Deceptively minimal, they provide a framework through which to interrogate a company’s future plans, on timeframes that are relevant to both investment horizons and to climate change mitigation.

The Royal Astronomical Society (RAS) has awarded 2018 Winton Capital prizes, which recognise the outstanding work of young researchers, to Oxford University scientists Dr Rebecca Bowler and Dr Kerri Donaldson Hanna.

Dr Kerri Donaldson Hanna, UKSA Aurora Research Fellow in the Department of Physics, is honoured for her contribution to her field of geophysics. Specialising in the study of the surface compositions of rocky, airless bodies through infrared remote sensing, Dr Donaldson Hanna is currently playing a key role on NASA’s OSIRIS-Rex mission to return a sample of the asteroid Bennu to Earth in 2022. 

Her research record includes leading on projects combining datasets across multiple wavelength ranges and work in the field of thermal infrared spectroscopy. Alongside her research goals, Dr Donaldson Hanna also makes contributions to the wider planetary science community, organising RAS specialist discussion meetings and acting as a committed mentor for budding planetary scientists.

Dr Donaldson Hanna said: 'I feel quite honoured to be recognised for my early career achievements through such a prestigious award and genuinely appreciate those that nominated me for the award.'

Dr Rebecca Bowler, Hintze Fellow in the Department of Physics at Oxford University, receives the prize for astronomy. Through her work demonstrating that highly luminous objects do exist into the epoch of re-ionisation, and understanding star-forming galaxies at ultra-high redshifts, she has helped to shape our knowledge of the world above us.

Although still in the early stages of her career, Dr Bowler has already served as principal investigator on Hubble Space Telescope, ALMA and VLT projects. She was also awarded the 2016 Block Prize for ‘promising young physicist.’

Dr Bowler said she was ‘delighted and honoured’ to receive the RAS award.

In last week's Artistic Licence blog, Bethany White wrote about a writing group run by history students. This week, she finds out whether or not the group works.

I’d heard many good things about the Shut Up And Write writing group, but I’d never tried it out for myself.

But with a worryingly high number of words left to write for my PhD, and the encouragement of the group’s leader, Rachel Delman, I finally decided to give it a go.

Feeling lethargic on a Monday morning in June, I headed to the History Faculty.

The group I found there was small but friendly. We gathered in the common room for breakfast and chatted about our writing goals. At 9.30, we settled into one of the classrooms.

Furtively brushing pastry crumbs from my lap, I opened my laptop and dutifully gathered my notes, casting sneaky glances around the room.

I felt like a novice. Would I really be able to write for this long without getting distracted? What about Twitter?!

It’s no secret that writing a PhD is a long slog. In fact, any kind of writing involves navigating a psychological obstacle course.

First there are all the distractions: e-mail, Twitter, Facebook, news, memes, YouTube, 4,000-word think-pieces that must be read now. Suddenly, everything else in the world seems far more important.

But it’s not just the lure of distraction. You’ve also got to contend with writer’s block. Writer’s block is endlessly frustrating. At its worst, you can’t think of any words at all.

At its best, you can just about pluck some out and put them in order, but at a pace that feels like running in slow-motion.

It was these two demons that I was hoping to excise by joining the writing group. Hopefully, I thought, the guilt-trip of being in a room full of productive people would keep me on the straight and narrow.

Before we began, Rachel went around the room and asked us to announce a writing goal for the day.

Someone wanted to finish their master’s thesis; another wanted to tidy up their references; another needed to perfect an abstract. I settled for a thousand words of a new chapter.

As soon as we started, library silence filled the room: complete stillness save the tapping of keyboards and the odd shuffle of papers. Brows furrowed and pens were chewed as everyone clicked into concentration.

It was remarkably easy to focus. The room felt heavy with the weight of work, and in a room like that, motivation is catching. By the end of the first hour, I’d written five hundred words, and hadn’t checked Twitter once.

During the break, I chatted to Rachel about why she thinks writing in a group helps.

“I think it works because it’s such short chunks of time, and you assume everyone else is working,” she says.

“When I’m on my own, if I get an e-mail, I check it. But when I’m in the group, I think, I’ve only got fifty minutes left—I’ll check it later!”

I agree. Most of the time, comparison is demoralising and unhelpful. But in such a supportive environment, little dashes of it can help. If he can finish his footnotes, I can write this paragraph. We’re all in this together.

In the second session, I flew through five hundred more words. It felt refreshing to work uninterrupted, and to wrangle with references rather than guilty retweets.

The third hour was harder, and more sluggish. But by the end of the session I had 1,263 words, in a row, making some degree of sense, that I hadn’t had that morning. I’d also gained three strawberries, an almond pastry, two cups of coffee, and some writing companions.

I’m sure the writing group isn’t a magic fix. We all have good days and bad days—days when you feel like you’re writing the next big thing, and days when all you can heave out of yourself is one lonely sentence.

But working together, regularly, for a strict number of hours, is unusual for a humanities postgraduate, and it definitely helps. It helps to know that you’re among others and that everyone else struggles, but it also helps just to have a chat over coffee.

Writing is hard. But with initiatives like Shut Up and Write, hopefully the journey will feel a little easier. Plus, there are free strawberries. That always helps.

'Lost Late' was a sold-out event held in Oxford late last year, as part of the national Being Human festival.

It was hosted at the Oxford University Museum of Natural History and the Pitt Rivers Museum, and was a collaboration with The Oxford Research Centre in the Humanities (TORCH).

On the night, researchers from across the humanities put on events for the public.

For example, Sally Shuttleworth, Professor of English Literature at Oxford, told some of the 1,600 visitors about a lesser-known aim of many people in Victorian England - to live to 100. "The ‘secrets’ of such long life might strike us as surprisingly modern – cut down on drink, tobacco and meat-eating; don’t overwork, and construct a ‘green’ town, filled with gardens and trees," she said.

"I love events like Lost Late with their blending of research with games or music and drama, and magical transformation of the buildings." 

TORCH has partnered with the national Being Human Festival for the last three years. Vicky McGuinness, TORCH Business Manager, said the partnership works well because both organisations have "shared aims of public engagement with research with wider audiences".

"And by collaborating with Pitt Rivers Museum and the Museum of Natural History, we are able to do so in an exciting and diverse environment and give researchers a much larger audience reach," she added.

Here are some photographs from the night:

Professor Katrin Kohl

Professor Sally Shuttleworth

In the long summer vacation after the first year of his PhD, Luca Zenobi couldn’t write.

As a DPhil student, not being able to write poses a problem. Grappling for ways to kick-start himself into writing mode, Luca did what we all do when we need answers. “I Googled “how to write”,” he remembers.

When he did, Luca came across “all the usual advice,” but something stood out. “Lots of people suggested getting a group together, with writing the only thing you’re allowed to do.”

Writing groups have been springing up in Oxford - Dr Alice Kelly runs a successful one in TORCH, for example - but there wasn’t one in the History Faculty.

And Luca found that many students, like him, were struggling to get words down on paper. So, once the summer ended and October dawned, Luca set up the Oxford History Graduate Network’s writing group.

Almost two years on, Shut Up and Write (SUAW) is now a staple of postgraduate History life. After running the group for a year, Luca handed over the reins to fellow DPhil student Rachel Delman. The two have worked hard to make it as effective, and as enjoyable, as possible.

So how does it work? Twice a week, from 9am to 1pm, students meet in the Faculty. After fuelling themselves with pastries and coffee, they sit down to write for an hour at a time, punctuated by fifteen-minute breaks.

At the beginning of the session, students declare a writing goal for the day. Being accountable helps people stay on track. “I think the psychology of it really helps,” Rachel says.

Whether it’s the psychology or the pastries, something is working. The group has a keen group of regular attendees. Why do Luca and Rachel think it’s been so successful?

“A PhD can be very isolating,” Luca says. “The writing group gives people the opportunity to talk with other people doing the same thing—how’s it going? What are you working on? And then you end up discussing and sharing tips.”

But it’s not just the social element that makes SUAW so well-attended. It’s also an effective way to work. “I had times when the only proper writing I could get done was at the writing group,” Luca says.

The writing group has certainly been a blessing for students craving conversation and routine. But it’s also completely changed Luca and Rachel’s own experiences of Oxford.

As convenors, they attend twice a week, every week, providing breakfast, helping everyone set writing goals, and paying close attention to the clock.

“I’ve gained a lot of confidence from running the group, which will help in an academic career,” Rachel says.

Luca agrees, and adds, “It’s nice to know that you’re helping people out. I’ve realised that we all struggle, and that it’s fine, it’s part of the process, and talking about it is a good thing.”

Now in the later stages of their doctorates, Rachel and Luca are stepping back from the group at the end of this academic year. But they’re proud of what it’s achieved. “It’s built a community in the Faculty that wasn’t really there before,” Rachel says.

Do they have any advice for their successors? Rachel thinks about it. “Just keep buying pastries!”

Next week, Bethany will try the writing group herself and review it for Artistic Licence. But if it doesn't work, there may not be a blog next week...