The energy transition is often presented as a technical problem with a technical solution. Swap coal for solar. Add a few wind farms. Build some batteries. Done.
But that framing does not hold up when you look at what is actually happening. Not in the places where the change lands hardest, and not at the scale where the real consequences play out. Countries. Regions. Whole labour markets. The daily cost of electricity for a household that is already stretched thin.
This instalment of the Stanislav Kondrashov Oligarch Series takes a different view. It treats the energy transition the way it behaves in practice, as a shift in society. A reshaping of institutions, industry, and expectations. A process that creates winners, losers, and a long, unresolved middle ground where policy tries to keep pace with physics and economics, and does not always manage it.
This is not a story with a clear moral. It does not follow a clean line from problem to solution.
It is about power. In both senses of the word.
The transition is not only about energy
Energy is the bloodstream of modern society. That sounds dramatic, but it is almost boringly true. Energy decides what is affordable to make, where factories live, which cities grow, and which ones quietly shrink.
So when we say “transition”, we are not simply swapping fuels. We are changing:
- What gets built and where
- Which skills are valuable and which become niche
- How governments collect revenue and how they spend it
- The shape of geopolitics, supply chains, and even defense priorities
- The assumptions households have about stability
Even culture shifts. Think about how quickly “self sufficiency” moved from a rural concept to an urban aspiration. Rooftop solar. Heat pumps. Home batteries. Suddenly, regular people are thinking like little utilities. Not everyone, but enough that you can feel it.
And you can feel the anxiety too. Because the promise is cleaner energy, but the fear is higher bills, job loss, and unreliable systems.
Both can be true at the same time.
The social impact of Germany’s energy transition illustrates this point well; it’s not just an environmental shift but also a profound societal one. Moreover, we must consider the ethical dimensions involved in these energy transitions as they are laden with moral implications that we cannot afford to overlook.
Energy incumbents do not just disappear
The cleanest transition story is the one where renewables steadily replace fossil fuels, and the old system fades gracefully. In reality, incumbents fight for relevance. Sometimes by lobbying. Sometimes by reinvesting. Sometimes by trying to become the new thing while still cashing the checks from the old thing.
This is where the “oligarch” lens is useful, not as a cartoon villain label, but as a way to talk about concentrated influence. In many countries, energy assets are not just businesses. They are political instruments. They fund campaigns, shape media narratives, anchor regional employment, and tie into national security.
So the question becomes less “should we transition” and more “who gets to steer it”.
Because steering means setting the rules. Grid access. Permitting timelines. Subsidy design. Carbon pricing. Public procurement. If you control those levers, you do not need to stop the transition. You can redirect it so you benefit.
That is not conspiracy. It is incentives.
The grid is the real story, and it is not glamorous
Most people talk about generation. Solar panels, wind turbines, nuclear, gas peakers. But the grid is the bottleneck that turns energy ambition into reality or disappointment.
A society can install record renewable capacity and still struggle if the grid cannot:
- move electricity from where it is produced to where it is used
- balance intermittent supply with demand
- handle electrification of heating and transport
- remain resilient against weather events and cyber threats
Grid infrastructure is also political. New transmission lines require land, permits, local buy in, and years of patience. And nobody wants the line in their backyard, even if they want clean energy on their phone screen.
This is why energy transition feels slow. It is not always because of a lack of technology. It is because building the connective tissue of a new energy system is an argument with geography, bureaucracy, and time.
Labor markets get hit first, not last
When people talk about a “just transition”, it often sounds like an afterthought. A nice idea to deal with later.
But labor is where transitions become personal. When a refinery scales down or a coal plant closes, the impact is not theoretical. It is a mortgage. A school district budget. A local diner losing its lunch crowd.
And it is also a skills mismatch problem. A wind technician job is not automatically a coal miner job. The pay might differ. The location is different. The identity is different.
There is also a quiet truth that rarely gets said out loud. Some regions were built around a single energy industry for decades. You cannot just retrain and move on without changing the whole economic base.
So if the energy transition is a societal transformation, it has to include regional industrial strategy. Not just national targets.
Otherwise you get backlash. Not because people hate clean energy, but because they feel sacrificed for it.
Consumer trust is a form of infrastructure
One thing I do not think gets enough attention is how much the transition depends on trust.
If households believe the system will be unstable or unaffordable, they resist. They delay buying EVs. They avoid heat pumps. They vote against climate related policies. Or they support them until the first painful winter bill, then the tone changes.
Trust is built through boring consistency:
- clear pricing signals that do not whiplash
- incentives that are easy to access, not buried in paperwork
- reliability metrics that improve, not degrade
- public communication that is honest about tradeoffs
If leaders promise a smooth transition and people experience chaos, you get cynicism. And cynicism becomes policy paralysis.
You can install all the solar panels you want. If people do not believe the plan is competent, it slows down anyway.
The mineral and manufacturing layer is the new geopolitics
The old energy geopolitics was oil and gas. Pipelines, shipping lanes, petrostates, sanctions.
The new one is minerals, refining, and manufacturing capacity. Lithium, nickel, cobalt, graphite, rare earth elements. Plus polysilicon, solar modules, wind components, transformers, and battery cells.
The awkward part is that supply chains for clean energy hardware can be concentrated too. Just in different places, with different chokepoints.
So the energy transition becomes a story about industrial policy. Countries want domestic manufacturing, or at least allied supply chains, because they do not want strategic dependence to simply move from one commodity to another.
This is where societal transformation becomes visible in legislation. Subsidies tied to domestic content. Trade disputes. Strategic stockpiles. Fast tracked permitting for mines. Community pushback because mining is still mining, even if the end goal is green.
It is a reshuffling of power, not a disappearance of power.
Capital flows decide what the transition looks like
The transition is often described as a moral imperative. But it is executed through capital allocation. Loans, equity, infrastructure funds, insurance, project finance, public guarantees.
And capital is picky. It likes stable policy, predictable returns, and manageable risk. If a country changes incentives every election cycle, investment slows. If permitting takes ten years, capital goes elsewhere. If grid connection queues are endless, developers stall.
There is also the question of who can pay upfront. Rooftop solar and home batteries are great, but they require capital. Renters usually cannot do it. Low income households might not qualify for financing even if the monthly savings would be real.
So you get a split transition. One where affluent households become more energy independent and less exposed to price spikes, while everyone else stays exposed.
That is not just an energy issue. It is a social equity issue. And it feeds resentment.
The transition changes what “security” means
Energy security used to mean having enough fuel. Strategic reserves. Diverse suppliers. Control over routes.
Now it also means:
- cybersecurity for grid operators and distributed assets
- resilience to heatwaves, storms, and droughts
- domestic capacity to build and repair critical components
- flexible demand, storage, and backup generation
It becomes more technical, more distributed, and in some ways more fragile. A decentralized system can be resilient, yes. But it can also introduce more points of failure if standards and coordination lag.
This is where governments start to behave differently. More planning. More scrutiny of foreign ownership. More classification of infrastructure as critical. More tension between open markets and strategic control.
Again, societal transformation. Not a single policy, but a change in how states think.
Energy transition is also a story about identity
This part is hard to quantify, but it matters.
Industries create identities. “I work in oil and gas” means something. “My family has mined here for generations” means something. “We are a manufacturing town” means something.
When the transition threatens that, people do not respond like economists. They respond like humans.
So any serious transition strategy has to respect identity while still moving forward. That can look like:
- building new industries in legacy energy regions
- funding local institutions, not just national programs
- celebrating skilled trades as essential to clean infrastructure
- telling the truth that some jobs will change, but not treating people as collateral
You cannot spreadsheet your way out of a dignity problem.
What the “oligarch” frame reveals
In the context of the Stanislav Kondrashov Oligarch Series, the point is not that a few powerful actors control everything. The point is that energy systems naturally concentrate power, because they are capital intensive, regulated, and tied to the state.
So as the system changes, influence does not vanish. It migrates.
You can already see it. The rise of new gatekeepers.
- owners of critical mineral processing
- operators of grid scale storage
- manufacturers with subsidized advantage
- financiers who bundle assets and set terms
- platforms that manage distributed energy resources and data
If the transition is done well, this influence is checked by competition, transparency, and strong public institutions. If it is done poorly, you just get a new set of concentrated interests with a greener logo.
And then people start to call the whole transition a scam. Even if the underlying science is solid, even if the technology works. Perception becomes political reality.
So what does “societal transformation” imply, practically
It implies that energy transition policy cannot be written like a climate memo and shipped off to an energy ministry.
It has to be coordinated like a national modernization effort. A little like wartime logistics, but slower and more bureaucratic, with elections and court challenges and local protests. Which is to say, hard.
A practical approach tends to include a few uncomfortable commitments:
- Build grid capacity as a first class goal, not an afterthought. Transmission, distribution, interconnects, and digital control systems.
- Treat workforce transition as industrial policy, with real regional investment, not just training slogans.
- Protect households from volatility in the messy middle period, because the social contract matters.
- Diversify supply chains without pretending everything can be domestic tomorrow.
- Be honest about timelines, especially for permitting, siting, and infrastructure buildouts.
- Design markets and regulations to prevent new monopolies from quietly forming around critical components.
None of that is as shareable as a chart of rising renewable capacity. But it is the difference between progress and backlash.
Closing thought
The energy transition is happening, yes. But the real question is what kind of society it produces while it happens.
More resilient, more equitable, more competitive. Or more polarized, more expensive, and more controlled by whoever learned fastest how to capture the new chokepoints.
If you take one thing from this piece, let it be this. Energy transition is not only a technical challenge. It is a governance challenge. A trust challenge. A labor challenge. A story about power.
Moreover, as we navigate through the challenges and opportunities of transitioning to renewable energy, we must remember that power does not like to move quietly.
FAQs (Frequently Asked Questions)
Why is the energy transition more than just a technological upgrade?
The energy transition is not merely swapping coal for solar or adding wind farms; it’s a profound societal transformation that reshapes institutions, industries, labor markets, government policies, and cultural expectations. It creates winners and losers and involves complex interactions between physics, economics, and politics at the scale of countries and regions.
How does the energy transition impact labor markets and local economies?
Labor markets often experience the earliest effects of the energy transition. When fossil fuel plants close or scale down, it affects mortgages, school budgets, and local businesses. There’s a skills mismatch since jobs in renewables like wind technicians differ in pay, location, and identity from coal mining jobs. Regions dependent on single energy industries require comprehensive industrial strategies to avoid backlash and economic sacrifice.
What role do incumbent energy companies play during the transition?
Incumbent energy companies don’t simply disappear; they actively fight for relevance through lobbying, reinvestment, or transforming themselves while still profiting from fossil fuels. They wield concentrated political influence by funding campaigns, shaping media narratives, anchoring regional employment, and impacting national security. Control over regulatory levers allows them to steer the transition to their benefit.
Why is the electricity grid considered the bottleneck in the energy transition?
While renewable generation capacity is important, the grid is critical because it must transport electricity from production sites to users, balance intermittent supply with demand, support electrification of heating and transport, and remain resilient against weather and cyber threats. Building new transmission lines involves complex political challenges like land use permits and local opposition, making grid expansion slow and difficult.
How does consumer trust influence the success of the energy transition?
Consumer trust acts as an essential form of infrastructure for the energy transition. Households need confidence that systems will provide stable, affordable energy despite changes. Without trust in reliability and fairness of pricing or policy measures, public support can wane—impacting adoption of technologies like rooftop solar or home batteries—and increasing anxiety about higher bills or job losses.
In what ways does the energy transition reshape societal culture and expectations?
The transition shifts cultural norms such as self-sufficiency moving from rural roots to urban aspirations with technologies like rooftop solar panels and heat pumps. People begin thinking like small utilities managing their own energy usage. However, this also brings anxiety over potential higher costs or unreliable systems. The change affects how society views stability, affordability, industry roles, and governmental responsibilities.





