Author: Roberto Bernardi

  • England’s Crumbling Schools: The Hidden Infrastructure Crisis No Government Wants to Inherit

    England’s Crumbling Schools: The Hidden Infrastructure Crisis No Government Wants to Inherit

    There is a particular kind of institutional failure that only becomes visible once it is too late to manage cheaply. England’s school estate is a textbook example. Behind the painted murals and motivational posters, behind the acoustic ceiling tiles and the laminated behaviour charts, a significant proportion of the country’s state schools are quietly falling apart. The roof leaks. The boiler is held together by institutional hope and emergency callouts. And in the worst cases, the very concrete holding the building upright has been classified as a structural risk.

    School estate disrepair is not a new problem. It is, however, a worsening one, and the political cost of confronting it honestly has proved too high for any successive government to bear. The result is a deferred reckoning that compounds interest with every passing year.

    Exterior of an ageing English school showing signs of school estate disrepair with portacabins in the playground
    Exterior of an ageing English school showing signs of school estate disrepair with portacabins in the playground

    What the Department for Education’s Own Data Reveals

    The Department for Education’s condition surveys make for sobering reading. The most comprehensive, published in 2021 and covering data gathered before the pandemic disrupted normal inspection cycles, estimated the cost of restoring England’s school buildings to a satisfactory condition at approximately £11.4 billion. Given that costs in the construction sector have risen sharply since, credible independent estimates now put the real figure closer to £15 billion. Some analysts believe it exceeds that considerably when you account for deferred maintenance that has deteriorated further since the survey was conducted.

    Roughly a third of the school estate was built between 1945 and 1975, during an era when speed of construction and volume of output mattered far more than longevity. Many of those buildings used materials and techniques that are now understood to be problematic. Reinforced Autoclaved Aerated Concrete, better known as RAAC, became the defining symbol of this crisis when it entered mainstream public consciousness in the summer of 2023. Lightweight, cheap to produce, and widely used in flat-roofed school buildings from the 1950s through to the 1980s, RAAC has a structural lifespan of roughly 30 years. Thousands of schools built with it are now well past that threshold.

    The RAAC Scandal and What It Exposed

    When the Department for Education confirmed in September 2023 that more than 150 schools contained RAAC panels deemed to pose an immediate risk of collapse, the public reaction was one of shock. The education sector’s reaction was rather more weary. Headteachers and building managers had been raising alarms about structural deterioration for years. What RAAC did was provide a single, visceral, media-friendly symbol for a crisis that had previously resisted easy narration.

    Affected schools were forced to close classrooms, relocate pupils into temporary portacabins, or in some cases send children home entirely while emergency structural assessments were conducted. The disruption was significant. For pupils preparing for GCSEs or A-levels, losing access to familiar teaching environments mid-term is not a minor inconvenience; it is a measurable harm. For schools already managing post-pandemic learning recovery, the RAAC closures were another compounding blow.

    Yet RAAC, for all its notoriety, represents only a fraction of the broader school estate disrepair picture. The government’s own school condition data identifies thousands of buildings with roofs in poor condition, inadequate heating systems, single-glazed windows, and electrical installations that fall below modern safety standards. These are not dramatic structural failures. They are the slow, grinding deterioration that makes learning harder, staff retention more difficult, and energy bills vastly higher than they should be.

    Close-up of deteriorating concrete ceiling panels illustrating school estate disrepair in an English school corridor
    Close-up of deteriorating concrete ceiling panels illustrating school estate disrepair in an English school corridor

    How the Funding Gap Became Unfillable

    Understanding how England arrived at this point requires a brief look at how school capital funding has worked, or rather has not worked, over the past two decades. Capital budgets for school maintenance were cut substantially during the austerity period following 2010. The Priority School Building Programme, launched to replace the most dilapidated buildings, was underfunded relative to the scale of need from the outset. Successive Spending Reviews have allocated sums that look meaningful in press releases but, when distributed across approximately 22,000 state-funded schools in England, amount to relatively modest per-school allocations.

    Meanwhile, reactive maintenance costs have soared. When a boiler fails mid-January, a school cannot wait six months for a scheduled replacement. The emergency callout, the temporary heating units, the disruption to the school day: all of this costs money that was not in the budget, and it diverts funds from other priorities. The cruel arithmetic of deferred maintenance means that problems which could have been resolved for tens of thousands of pounds become hundreds-of-thousands-of-pound emergencies if left long enough.

    The hidden hazards compound this further. Many older school buildings contain asbestos, a legacy of mid-twentieth century construction practices. Managing asbestos in situ, monitoring its condition, and ensuring that any building works do not disturb it, requires rigorous compliance procedures. Responsible duty holders commission professional asbestos sampling to establish the precise nature and condition of any asbestos-containing materials before works begin, an essential step that adds both cost and time to what might otherwise seem like a straightforward repair job. When budgets are tight, the temptation to delay even routine building works is strong; but in ageing schools, delay often transforms a manageable compliance task into a full remediation project.

    The Human Cost: Pupils and Staff in Deteriorating Buildings

    The infrastructure debate can feel abstract when discussed in terms of billions of pounds and condition survey categories. It becomes considerably less abstract when you consider what it is actually like to spend six hours a day in a building with no effective heating in February, or to try to concentrate on revision in a classroom where rainwater drips steadily into a strategically placed bucket.

    Research consistently demonstrates that the physical learning environment affects both academic outcomes and mental wellbeing. A 2015 study by the University of Salford, tracking 3,766 pupils across 27 primary schools, found that physical classroom conditions including air quality, natural light, and temperature accounted for 16 per cent of the variation in pupil academic progress over a single year. Extrapolated across years of schooling in a substandard building, the cumulative effect on outcomes is significant.

    For teachers, the situation is equally corrosive. Staff retention is already a serious issue in English state schools, with the government’s own data showing that a meaningful proportion of new teachers leave the profession within five years. Working in a building where the facilities are inadequate, where the cold gets into your bones by October, and where you are constantly navigating the logistics of a leaking or structurally compromised workspace, does not encourage anyone to stay.

    Why This Problem Keeps Getting Inherited Rather Than Solved

    The politics of school estate disrepair are, in their own way, instructive. The costs of fixing the problem are immediate, visible, and enormous. The benefits are diffuse, long-term, and politically unglamorous. No government gets a significant polling bounce from replacing a flat roof in Rotherham or rewiring an ageing secondary school in Wolverhampton. The infrastructure investment that prevents a crisis generates no headlines; only the crisis itself does.

    This creates a structural incentive to defer. Each administration inherits a problem slightly worse than the one before it, announces a programme that addresses the most acute cases, and hopes that the underlying deterioration does not accelerate to scandal during its tenure. RAAC proved that this strategy has limits. At some point, the deferral catches up with you in a way that cannot be managed quietly.

    The current government has pledged to rebuild or significantly refurbish 518 schools over the coming decade under the School Rebuilding Programme. The ambition is genuine. Whether the pace is sufficient, given the scale of deterioration across the wider estate, remains deeply contested by sector bodies including the National Audit Office, which has previously noted that the programme’s timescales are optimistic relative to historical delivery rates.

    What a Genuine Solution Would Require

    Serious engagement with school estate disrepair demands a multi-year, ring-fenced capital commitment that is insulated from short-term Spending Review pressures. It requires a credible national survey conducted regularly rather than sporadically, so that condition data is current enough to be actionable. And it requires political honesty about the scale of what is needed, rather than the announcement of programmes calibrated to sound impressive at a press conference whilst addressing a fraction of the real need.

    England’s children do not choose the buildings they learn in. They do not choose whether the roof holds or the heating works or the structure above them is sound. Those choices belong to politicians, and for decades the choices made have been to look away. The bill for looking away keeps growing. At some point, the only question left will be how much more expensive inaction was than action would have been.

    Frequently Asked Questions

    How many schools in England are affected by RAAC concrete?

    As of the Department for Education’s most recent assessments, over 200 schools have been confirmed to contain RAAC panels, with more than 150 initially identified as posing an immediate structural risk. The full picture is still emerging as surveys of older flat-roofed buildings continue.

    What is the estimated cost to fix England's school building crisis?

    The DfE’s 2021 condition survey put the cost of restoring the school estate to a satisfactory standard at around £11.4 billion, though more recent estimates accounting for construction inflation place the figure closer to £15 billion or above. The gap between available funding and identified need remains very substantial.

    Does poor school building condition actually affect pupils' results?

    Yes, there is credible research linking physical classroom conditions to academic outcomes. A major University of Salford study found that factors including air quality, temperature, and natural light accounted for roughly 16 per cent of variation in pupil progress, suggesting that learning environments have a measurable and meaningful impact.

    What is the School Rebuilding Programme and how many schools does it cover?

    The School Rebuilding Programme is a government initiative to rebuild or significantly refurbish schools in the worst condition across England, with 518 projects currently pledged. However, the National Audit Office has questioned whether delivery timescales are realistic, and critics argue the programme does not address the breadth of the wider estate’s needs.

    Why do older school buildings pose asbestos risks during repairs?

    Many schools constructed between the 1940s and 1980s incorporated asbestos-containing materials in insulation, ceiling tiles, and pipe lagging. When those buildings undergo refurbishment or repair, any disturbance of these materials can release dangerous fibres, meaning that compliant surveying and testing must be completed before works begin.

  • The Tokenisation of Everything: How Blockchain Is Quietly Revolutionising Asset Ownership in 2026

    The Tokenisation of Everything: How Blockchain Is Quietly Revolutionising Asset Ownership in 2026

    There is a moment in financial history when the infrastructure shifts so fundamentally that the old gatekeepers simply become irrelevant. The invention of the joint-stock company did it in the seventeenth century. The London Stock Exchange did it in 1801. And now, quietly but with considerable force, real world asset tokenisation in 2026 is doing it again, dissolving the walls between institutional capital and everyone else, one digital token at a time.

    This is not a story about cryptocurrency speculation or NFT fever. Those episodes, colourful as they were, were largely rehearsals. What is happening now is structurally different: established asset classes, prime property in Edinburgh’s New Town, a Damien Hirst sculpture, a stake in a mid-market private equity fund, are being converted into digital tokens on regulated blockchains, traded with legal clarity, and made accessible to investors who would previously have been turned away at the door.

    Financial professionals discussing real world asset tokenisation 2026 in a London office with digital displays
    Financial professionals discussing real world asset tokenisation 2026 in a London office with digital displays

    What Real World Asset Tokenisation Actually Means

    Strip away the technical language and the concept is straightforward. A real world asset, something with tangible value that exists off a blockchain, is represented as a digital token. Ownership of that token confers a legally enforceable claim on the underlying asset, or a proportional share of its income and appreciation. The blockchain provides the ledger: immutable, transparent, and accessible without a clearing house or a custody bank extracting fees at every juncture.

    The tokenisation can be fractional. A Georgian townhouse in Bath worth £2.4 million might be divided into 24,000 tokens at £100 each. A pension-age investor in Dundee who cannot commit £500,000 to a property fund minimum can now hold a meaningful, liquid position in prime residential real estate. A collector who loves Basquiat but cannot afford the whole canvas can own a verified fraction of it. These are not hypotheticals. Platforms are executing these structures today, increasingly under the scrutiny, and, critically, the regulatory frameworks, of the Financial Conduct Authority.

    Why 2026 Is the Inflection Point

    The FCA’s sandbox approach to tokenised securities, combined with the UK Government’s stated ambition to position Britain as a global hub for digital assets, has created genuine institutional momentum. HM Treasury published its digital assets regulatory framework to considerable attention, and whilst implementation has been incremental, it has sent the signal that matters most to institutional capital: this is legal, this is supervised, and this is here to stay.

    Globally, research from the Boston Consulting Group estimated that tokenised assets could represent $16 trillion in value by 2030. Within the UK, real world asset tokenisation in 2026 is attracting serious attention from pension funds, family offices, and wealth managers who previously dismissed blockchain as a retail curiosity. The difference now is settlement speed, regulatory clarity, and the emergence of institutional-grade custody solutions.

    The Asset Classes Being Transformed

    Property

    UK residential and commercial property has long been the most coveted asset class and the most inaccessible. Tokenisation is chipping at both problems simultaneously. Fractional ownership structures are allowing retail investors entry at four-figure sums whilst providing developers with an alternative fundraising channel that bypasses traditional bank lending. The secondary market liquidity, being able to sell your token position without waiting for an entire property transaction to complete, is arguably the single most transformative feature. Anyone who has sold a house in England will appreciate precisely why that matters.

    Fine Art and Collectibles

    The art market has historically rewarded the well-connected above all else. Auction houses set the terms, private dealers hold the relationships, and provenance disputes have derailed many an acquisition. Tokenised art, recorded on an immutable ledger, addresses the provenance question with unusual elegance. Several platforms are now working directly with London galleries and estate representatives to tokenise works, with the blockchain record serving as both ownership certificate and exhibition history.

    Tablet showing tokenised property investment platform, illustrating real world asset tokenisation 2026
    Tablet showing tokenised property investment platform, illustrating real world asset tokenisation 2026

    Private Equity and Credit

    This is perhaps where the disruption cuts deepest. Private equity funds have traditionally required minimum commitments of £250,000 or more, locking investors in for seven to ten years with minimal liquidity. Tokenised private equity structures are beginning to offer quarterly liquidity windows, lower entry thresholds, and automated distribution of carried interest through smart contracts. The fund administrator, the transfer agent, the custodian: each one sees their margin threatened. The institutional reaction has been predictable, several have moved to acquire tokenisation platforms rather than resist them.

    Infrastructure and Commodities

    Renewable energy projects, port infrastructure, and even agricultural land are entering tokenisation pipelines. A solar farm in Lincolnshire raising expansion capital via tokenised revenue-sharing agreements is a genuinely novel structure that offers retail investors inflation-linked returns tied to actual kilowatt-hour output. It is complex, it requires careful legal architecture, and it is happening.

    The Risks That Sophisticated Investors Must Understand

    A genuinely clear-eyed assessment cannot ignore the considerable risks. Liquidity is promised but not guaranteed; secondary markets for tokenised assets remain thin outside the largest platforms, and a token is only as liquid as the buyers willing to purchase it. Smart contract vulnerabilities have cost investors hundreds of millions globally. Jurisdictional ambiguity persists: a token representing a Scottish property, held on a Swiss blockchain, traded by an investor in Singapore, raises questions that no single regulator has yet definitively answered.

    Valuation remains deeply imperfect. The underlying asset, whether a Mayfair flat or a Warhol print, requires independent appraisal, and those appraisals carry the same subjectivity they always have. Tokenisation does not transform a poorly valued asset into a well-valued one; it merely distributes that valuation risk more broadly.

    The FCA has been explicit that tokenised securities which meet the definition of regulated investments fall under existing financial promotion rules. Any platform that sidesteps this by claiming their tokens are something other than securities warrants substantial scepticism.

    What This Means for Traditional Financial Intermediaries

    The longer-term consequence for wealth managers, private banks, and fund administrators is significant but not immediately catastrophic. The most astute incumbents are incorporating tokenisation into their own offerings. Several UK wealth management firms have begun offering tokenised exposure to alternative assets as a complement to conventional portfolios, recognising that the client demand is real and that resistance is commercially self-defeating.

    The intermediaries most at risk are those whose value proposition rests entirely on exclusive access rather than genuine expertise. If a family office’s primary function is providing entry to a fund that is now tokenised and broadly accessible, the justification for its fee structure becomes rather thin. Expertise, judgement, and personalised counsel retain their value. Administrative gatekeeping, considerably less so.

    How to Approach This as an Investor in 2026

    The appropriate posture is one of engaged curiosity rather than wholesale commitment. Real world asset tokenisation in 2026 is a maturing market, not a mature one. Due diligence must cover the legal wrapper, the regulatory status of the platform, the quality of the underlying asset, the custody arrangement for the tokens, and the realistic liquidity conditions. These are not easy questions, and any platform that makes them sound easy deserves additional scrutiny.

    For those prepared to do that work, the opportunity is genuine. Access to assets that were structurally closed to all but the wealthiest institutions is not a trivial development. It is, potentially, one of the more consequential shifts in the architecture of private wealth this generation will witness.

    Frequently Asked Questions

    What is real world asset tokenisation and how does it work?

    Real world asset tokenisation converts ownership rights in tangible assets, property, art, private equity, into digital tokens on a blockchain. Each token represents a legally enforceable fractional claim on the underlying asset, enabling purchase, sale, and transfer without traditional intermediaries like custodian banks or clearing houses.

    Is real world asset tokenisation legal in the UK?

    Yes, provided the structure complies with FCA regulations. Tokenised securities that meet the definition of regulated investments fall under existing UK financial services law, including financial promotion rules. HM Treasury has published a digital assets regulatory framework to provide greater clarity, and FCA-regulated platforms must adhere to standard authorisation requirements.

    What is the minimum investment for tokenised assets in the UK?

    Minimum investment thresholds vary by platform and asset class, but fractional tokenisation is specifically designed to lower entry points dramatically. Some property tokenisation platforms accept investments from as little as £100 to £500, compared to the £250,000-plus minimums typical of institutional private equity funds.

    How liquid are tokenised assets compared to traditional investments?

    Liquidity is one of tokenisation’s key promises but also one of its current limitations. Secondary markets exist but remain relatively thin for most tokenised assets outside the largest platforms. Investors should treat liquidity as a potential rather than a guarantee, and examine platform-specific secondary market conditions carefully before committing capital.

    What are the main risks of investing in tokenised real world assets?

    Key risks include smart contract vulnerabilities, thin secondary market liquidity, valuation uncertainty in the underlying asset, jurisdictional regulatory ambiguity, and platform counterparty risk. The FCA does not guarantee the performance of any tokenised investment, and investors should conduct thorough due diligence on both the platform’s regulatory status and the quality of the underlying asset.

  • Climate Anxiety Is Now a Public Health Crisis, Here’s What Governments Are Finally Doing About It

    Climate Anxiety Is Now a Public Health Crisis, Here’s What Governments Are Finally Doing About It

    For years, ecologists and psychologists occupied separate disciplines, rarely speaking the same language. That division is dissolving fast. A mounting body of peer-reviewed research now places climate anxiety squarely within the public health canon, no longer a fringe concern for coastal ecologists or catastrophising teenagers, but a measurable, diagnosable pressure affecting populations across every continent. Governments are beginning to take it seriously. Some are even legislating around it.

    What has changed is the quality of the evidence. The Lancet Countdown on Health and Climate Change, which publishes annually and carries considerable weight with policymakers, documented in its most recent report that extreme heat events, flooding, and prolonged wildfire seasons are generating cascading psychological consequences: elevated rates of depression, post-traumatic stress, grief, and what researchers term “solastalgia”, the distress caused by environmental change in one’s own home environment. These are not metaphors. They are clinical presentations arriving in GP surgeries and mental health clinics with increasing frequency.

    Young woman on a rain-soaked park bench reflecting on climate anxiety public health concerns in a British urban setting
    Young woman on a rain-soaked park bench reflecting on climate anxiety public health concerns in a British urban setting

    What Does Climate Anxiety Actually Look Like in Practice?

    The term “climate anxiety” risks sounding vague, even self-indulgent, to those unfamiliar with the clinical literature. It is neither. The American Psychological Association first formalised the concept in 2017, but UK researchers have since developed their own frameworks. A 2021 study by the University of Bath surveyed 10,000 young people across ten countries and found that 59 per cent felt very or extremely worried about climate change. Among UK respondents, 40 per cent said climate feelings affected their daily functioning. That is not background noise. That is a public health signal.

    Clinicians distinguish between adaptive anxiety, which motivates action, and maladaptive anxiety, which paralyses. The latter manifests as sleep disturbance, intrusive thoughts, avoidance of news, strained relationships, and in more acute cases, a reluctance to have children. Younger cohorts are disproportionately affected, but the NHS is also seeing older patients presenting with grief responses following flooding events, particularly in communities such as those in the Somerset Levels and parts of Yorkshire that have experienced repeated inundation.

    The UK’s Policy Response: Cautious Progress

    Britain’s approach to climate anxiety as a public health matter remains, to be charitable, in its early stages. The NHS Long Term Plan acknowledged environmental determinants of health in broad terms, but specific commissioning around climate-related psychological distress has been patchy at best. What has emerged instead are localised initiatives and pilot programmes, several of them genuinely thoughtful.

    NHS England has begun integrating climate health literacy into social prescribing frameworks, meaning GPs can now refer patients to “green social prescribing” projects. These schemes, trialled across seven sites including South Yorkshire and Humberside, connect patients with outdoor activities, conservation volunteering, and community gardening. Early results, published by NHS England in 2025, showed statistically significant improvements in wellbeing scores among participants. The logic is elegant: reconnecting people to the natural world addresses both the disconnection that fuels ecological grief and the sedentary isolation that worsens generalised anxiety.

    The UK Health Security Agency has also published guidance acknowledging that extreme weather events carry mental health consequences that must be planned for alongside physical ones. Flood recovery packages in several local authority areas now include mandatory mental health signposting, something that would have been considered an afterthought five years ago.

    NHS GP consultation desk with mental health leaflet related to climate anxiety public health resources
    NHS GP consultation desk with mental health leaflet related to climate anxiety public health resources

    How the EU Is Moving Further and Faster

    Where the UK has moved cautiously, the European Union has shown considerably greater structural ambition. The EU Mission on Cancer has been complemented by growing political interest in what some Brussels officials are calling a “climate health mission”, a cross-portfolio initiative linking environmental policy directly to mental health outcomes.

    Finland, consistently ranked among the world’s happiest countries, has integrated climate mental health education into its national school curriculum. Pupils are taught not only about ecological systems but about processing difficult emotions related to environmental change, a form of climate psychology that Finnish researchers argue reduces maladaptive anxiety whilst building civic resilience. Germany has established dedicated climate psychology clinics within several university hospital networks, and early demand has significantly exceeded initial projections.

    The World Health Organisation designated climate change as the defining public health threat of the 21st century, and its regional office for Europe has since published a technical guidance document on mental health and climate change, urging member states to embed psychological support within their national adaptation plans. For those interested in the full scope of WHO’s position, their European climate and health framework is worth examining.

    The Generational Fault Line

    No serious discussion of climate anxiety as a public health challenge can sidestep the generational dimension. Young people in the UK, broadly those born after 1997, have grown up with climate change as a fixed feature of their consciousness rather than a distant scientific abstraction. The psychological literature is beginning to reflect what youth mental health workers have known anecdotally for years: that this cohort experiences a particular form of anticipatory grief, mourning a future they feel has already been foreclosed.

    Organisations such as Young Minds and the Climate Psychology Alliance in the UK are lobbying for climate-aware therapy training as a standard component of counsellor and psychotherapist accreditation. At present, most practising therapists receive no formal education on how to work with climate-related distress, which means patients raising these concerns frequently encounter well-meaning but underprepared clinicians who attempt to reframe ecological anxiety as a cognitive distortion to be corrected. The Climate Psychology Alliance argues, persuasively, that this fundamentally misunderstands the problem: the anxiety is, in large part, a rational response to a real threat.

    From Awareness to Infrastructure: What Good Policy Looks Like

    The emerging consensus among researchers and policymakers who take climate anxiety public health seriously points toward a three-tier response. First, population-level awareness and destigmatisation: naming climate grief as a legitimate psychological experience removes the shame that prevents people from seeking support. Second, clinical capacity: training mental health professionals in climate-aware therapeutic approaches, funding specialised services, and ensuring that GP practices in high-risk areas have clear referral pathways. Third, structural intervention: because the most effective treatment for climate anxiety is ultimately reducing climate change itself, mental health and environmental policy cannot remain siloed.

    Scotland’s approach, under its National Performance Framework, is perhaps the most integrated in the UK, explicitly linking wellbeing outcomes to environmental sustainability indicators. It is imperfect, and implementation varies considerably by health board, but the framework at least acknowledges what the evidence demands: that a healthy population and a healthy planet are not separate policy objectives.

    The Road Ahead

    Climate anxiety is not going away. The physical realities driving it are accelerating, and the psychological literature tracking its effects is growing sharper and more alarming with each successive report. The question governments face is not whether this constitutes a public health issue; that case has been made and largely accepted. The question is whether the institutional response will match the scale of the problem before the window for genuinely preventive action closes.

    There is, paradoxically, something mildly reassuring in the fact that policymakers are finally asking the question. The NHS green social prescribing pilots, the EU’s cross-portfolio health missions, Finland’s classroom curricula, and the WHO’s regional guidance all represent serious institutional acknowledgement that the psychological cost of environmental breakdown is real, measurable, and deserving of a proper response. That is not enough. But it is, at least, a beginning.

    Frequently Asked Questions

    What is climate anxiety and is it a recognised mental health condition?

    Climate anxiety refers to persistent worry, distress, or fear related to climate change and its consequences. Whilst not a standalone diagnostic category in the ICD-11, it is increasingly recognised by clinical bodies including the NHS and the Climate Psychology Alliance as a significant psychological experience that can impair daily functioning and require professional support.

    How widespread is climate anxiety in the UK?

    Research from the University of Bath found that a significant proportion of UK young people report climate concerns affecting their daily lives. NHS mental health services have noted rising presentations linked to flooding events and broader ecological distress, particularly among under-35s and communities in flood-prone regions such as Yorkshire and the Somerset Levels.

    What is the NHS doing about climate-related mental health issues?

    The NHS has integrated climate health considerations into its green social prescribing framework, connecting patients experiencing anxiety or low mood with outdoor and conservation-based activities. Early pilot data from seven NHS sites, published in 2025, showed measurable improvements in participant wellbeing scores. Dedicated clinical pathways for climate-related distress remain limited but are under development.

    How are other countries tackling climate anxiety as a public health problem?

    Finland has embedded climate psychology into its national school curriculum, helping young people process ecological emotions as part of standard education. Germany has opened dedicated climate psychology clinics within university hospitals, whilst the EU is developing cross-portfolio health missions linking environmental and mental health policy. The WHO’s European regional office has also published technical guidance urging member states to include psychological support in national adaptation plans.

    Is climate anxiety the same as eco-grief or solastalgia?

    These terms are related but distinct. Eco-grief refers specifically to mourning environmental losses, such as species extinction or landscape destruction. Solastalgia describes distress caused by changes to one’s immediate home environment, often following flooding or habitat destruction. Climate anxiety is broader, encompassing anticipatory fear about future environmental deterioration. All three can co-exist and may benefit from climate-aware therapeutic approaches.