Authority

Decisions about large energy developments do not arise from a single source of authority. They are the product of a system in which different bodies exercise different powers at different stages. Understanding who authorised what — and on what basis — matters when outcomes diverge from what was promised.

The Viking Energy project was authorised through the Energy Consents Unit (ECU), acting on behalf of Scottish Ministers. The ECU is responsible for granting consent to construct and operate major onshore energy infrastructure. In doing so, it assesses environmental impacts, planning considerations, and the information presented about expected performance and benefits. This is the point at which the project was permitted to exist on Shetland’s land.

This matters because approval is not only a technical decision — it is the point at which irreversible change becomes authorised. If a project is consented on the strength of particular claims about productivity, benefits, and impacts, it is reasonable to ask how those claims are checked, how they are revisited, and who remains answerable when reality turns out differently.

What Was Promised

When the Viking Energy project was proposed, it was presented as an exceptional opportunity for Shetland. Public statements and promotional material described it as one of the most productive onshore wind farms in Europe, capable of delivering substantial amounts of clean energy while bringing significant benefits to the local community.

Central to these assurances was performance. The project was promoted on the basis of a high expected load factor, significantly above the UK average for onshore wind. This was used to support claims about reliability, efficiency, and long-term contribution to national energy needs.

Alongside performance, economic benefit was a key part of the case made to Shetland. Figures circulated during the approval process suggested that the community could expect around £20 million per year in benefits, revenues, and associated economic value. These figures were frequently cited as justification for the scale of the development and the level of change it would bring to Shetland’s landscape.

It was also assumed that the electricity generated would be fully utilised. The project was advanced on the basis that Shetland’s wind resource was “world-class” and that connection to the national grid would allow that resource to be translated efficiently into power, income, and wider public benefit.

Taken together, these assurances formed a coherent picture: a highly productive wind farm, delivering large amounts of electricity, providing meaningful and ongoing benefit to Shetland, and doing so as part of a rational and well-planned energy system.

What Was Delivered

Since becoming operational, the Viking Energy project has not performed in the way originally presented.

Rather than operating at the high levels forecast, the wind farm has produced electricity at a significantly lower load factor than expected. Publicly available data shows output at around 17 per cent of potential capacity, well below both the levels promoted during development and the UK average for onshore wind.

Periods of low output have not always coincided with calm conditions. Instead, a major limiting factor has been constraint on the national electricity grid. At times when the turbines are capable of generating electricity, they have been required to reduce or halt output because the grid cannot accept the power produced.

As a result, large quantities of potential generation have gone unused. In its first months of operation, Viking ranked among the highest wind farms in the UK for constrained energy — electricity that could have been produced, but was not taken by the system.

This has a direct bearing on the benefits originally discussed. Instead of the £20 million per year often cited during the project’s promotion, the actual annual benefit to Shetland is closer to £2 million. That gap is not marginal. It represents a fundamental difference between expectation and reality.

None of this alters the physical presence of the wind farm, the land it occupies, or the changes it has brought to Shetland’s landscape. Those changes are permanent. What has proved far less certain is whether the outcomes delivered match the assurances that were used to justify them.

Environmental Risks

Large energy developments are often assessed in terms of visual impact, noise, and economics. Much less attention is paid to what they introduce into the environment gradually and continuously, over years and decades.

Wind turbines are subject to constant wear. Rain, hail, airborne particles, and high blade speeds erode the leading edges of turbine blades over time. This is not disputed by the industry. What remains unclear is how much material is shed, where it accumulates, and what its long-term effects may be.

Even using conservative industry figures, turbine blades release material into the surrounding environment every year. Blade materials are composite plastics and resins. Some contain substances that international health bodies classify as hazardous at extremely low concentrations.

What makes this particularly relevant in Shetland is location. Onshore turbines are often sited on elevated ground, above peatland, grazing areas, and water catchments. Material released at height does not remain localised. It is carried by wind and rain into soils, burns, lochs, and downstream ecosystems — systems that people and livestock depend on.

Industry responses to blade erosion tend to focus on maintenance and performance. Far less emphasis is placed on independent environmental monitoring. There is little publicly available evidence of routine measurement of what is entering land and water, how it disperses, or how it accumulates over time.

This raises a simple and reasonable question: if an activity is known to shed material year after year into shared land and water systems, and if independent measurement of its environmental impact is limited or absent, can we afford to allow it to continue indefinitely without full transparency and accountability?

Cumulative Effects and System Dependence

The Viking Energy project did not exist in isolation. It required the construction of a subsea electricity interconnector linking Shetland directly to the UK mainland grid — infrastructure that had not previously existed.

That connection was justified primarily as a means of enabling the wind farm to operate. Its purpose was to export electricity generated in Shetland to the national system. Without it, the project could not proceed at the scale proposed.

Once such infrastructure is in place, its effects extend beyond the project that prompted it.

The presence of a grid connection has made Shetland newly attractive to other energy developers, none of whom had shown any interest before the cable existed. Additional projects are now being proposed or explored, seeking to make use of the same connection. Each may be presented as a separate decision, but in reality they are linked by shared infrastructure and shared consequences.

It also changes the nature of energy security. Before the interconnector, Shetland generated electricity locally and was completely self-reliant. Today, when wind generation is low, the system depends on the cable to import power. The island has moved from local resilience to external dependence.

Subsea cables are complex and exposed assets. Recent experience elsewhere has shown that they can be vulnerable to accidental damage, weather, anchoring, fishing activity, and — in some contexts — deliberate interference. When such links fail, repair can take months, not days.

This introduces a new kind of risk. Energy security is no longer solely a matter of local generation and maintenance, but of reliance on a single, critical connection beyond local control.

Accountability

Large energy developments are not defined only by how they are approved, or by what they promise. They are defined by what happens when assumptions fail — and by who remains answerable when that occurs.

In the case of Viking Energy, a series of assurances were central to the case for consent: high productivity, reliable generation, substantial local benefit, and a rational integration into the wider energy system. Those assurances shaped expectations and justified irreversible change to Shetland’s land.

When outcomes diverge from those expectations, accountability becomes less clear.

The project remains in place. The land use is permanent. The turbines continue to operate. Yet responsibility for underperformance, constraint, environmental uncertainty, and increased system dependence appears to be diffuse — spread across institutions, contracts, and regulatory frameworks that were never visible to the public at the point of decision.

This matters because accountability is not abstract. It determines who answers for decisions taken on Shetland’s behalf, who bears risk when projections prove optimistic, and who is responsible for monitoring and addressing long-term consequences.

Shetland First does not argue that energy projects should never proceed. It argues that authority must be demonstrable, that consent must be informed, and that accountability must persist beyond approval.

These are not questions about opposition. They are questions about responsibility. And they deserve clear answers.