In recent weeks, debates over Estonia’s energy policy have intensified—so much so that a no-confidence vote in Parliament was triggered. The controversy reached a fever pitch during a tense impeachment session, where the spotlight fell squarely on the nation’s energy policy. Amid these debates, the impact of the government's energy policy on “security of supply” has emerged as the central point of contention.
Critics from various expert circles and opposition parties argue that the government’s plan is unsound because it over-relies on renewable energy (mostly, offshore wind). At the same time, the strategy overlooks the required storage/controllable capacity and grid upgrades needed to balance renewables’ intermittency—measures which are essential for ensuring security of supply. Opponents accuse the government of being driven by a “green ideology” aimed more at meeting ambitious EU decarbonisation targets than at conducting a balanced estimation. As a result, they claim, the policy places undue burdens on consumers, including the risk of higher energy prices.
In contrast, the government asserts that its policy was formulated using scientific and sophisticated modeling methods rather than any ideology. It insists that a higher renewable share will benefit consumers by lowering prices, enhancing independence in electricity generation which grants greater security of supply. Therefore, the government must accelerate its development plans to compensate for decades of sluggish renewable development.
Nevertheless, one can argue that such an energy policy approach appears to be a “rush” that blurs the line between what might seem “reasonable” and what is truly “rational” when evaluated through strategic economic calculations. To illustrate, consider a policymaker who argues that better education will raise public awareness and improve quality of life. Consequently, he might call for cutting budgets in other sectors drastically, like security, infrastructure, and health, to triple the resources allocated to education. While increasing education budget might appear ‘reasonable,’ it is not necessarily ‘rational’ in such a way unless grounded in rigorous cost–benefit analysis. Similarly, relying almost exclusively on expanding wind power as the main driver for decarbonisation may seem appealing, but it might not hold up when scrutinised against practical, economic, and security criteria.
Moreover, not only in energy but in any field, when policymaking overly relies on a single element as the driving force, achieving the intended objective becomes risky. This is especially critical in energy, which directly addresses one of society’s primary needs. A misguided policy not only prevents us from reaching our goal but might even backfire, steering us away from it. For example, if the promised reductions in electricity prices fail to materialise or if energy security becomes compromised by insufficient planning for storage and grid infrastructure, public opinion could quickly swing against renewables recognising it as the main reason behind such a failure. This shift might weaken support for the energy transition just when the country needs a strong, unified discourse to tackle the challenges ahead.
Another crucial aspect of this debate is the concept of “willingness to pay” for providing extra security of supply, which often comes at the expense of overall welfare. In simple terms, in any energy system, ensuring a higher level of supply reliability incurs a cost. This means that fewer resources remain available for allocation to other sectors, often resulting in diminished overall welfare. In a rapid decarbonisation, the cost of consolidating the electricity system must be incurred over a shorter period, meaning that people must bear higher fees in the meantime. While in the government's counterargument its energy policy will even result in lower final electricity prices, critics reason that the government’s forecast is overly optimistic about the expected benefits. These debates escalated until recently, when the government acknowledged that it had exaggerated the benefits—which are expected to be much lower. Under such circumstances, the drafted energy policy appears to be a risky gamble; if by 2030 the energy prices do not drop as promised, society’s willingness to support further renewable subsidies might evaporate—potentially undermining the entire decarbonisation effort or even compromising supply security.
In summary, for Estonia’s energy transition to be truly successful, it must be built on a foundation of rigorous analysis, transparent planning, and a balanced strategy that does not sacrifice energy security or economic rationality in pursuit of lofty decarbonisation targets. If someone has suffered from malnutrition in the past and is now underweight, simply multiplying their daily food intake all at once will not compensate for their condition; in fact, it could jeopardise their health even further. Likewise, an exclusive emphasis on an ambitious, one-time rollout of renewables must account for all other prerequisites; otherwise, not only could the fundamental decarbonisation objectives be compromised, but security of supply itself might be at risk.