There is a quiet ritual in global power systems that most people never notice. On nights when power gathers in one room, when presidents, ministers and generals sit shoulder to shoulder, one person is deliberately kept away. Not because they are unimportant, but because they are essential.
If the unimaginable happens, that one individual ensures the line of succession continues. The system survives because someone was not part of the system at that moment.
I was reminded of this idea recently while reading about energy systems in Pakistan. It struck me how deeply this logic applies to our electricity sector today. We have built a system where everything is connected, everything is dependent, and yet very little is resilient. We have no equivalent of a designated survivor.
Pakistan’s power sector, on paper, looks strong. Installed capacity now stands at roughly 46,000MW. That number suggests abundance. Yet in reality, less than half of this capacity is actually utilised. We are not short of electricity. We are short of alignment.
At the centre of this imbalance is a financial structure that continues to strain the system. The country pays between Rs2.5-2.8 trillion every year in capacity payments to power producers. These payments are fixed. They are made regardless of whether electricity is generated or consumed. Even plants running at minimal output remain fully compensated.
Every month, around 150 billion rupees flows out simply to maintain this arrangement. This cost does not stay contained within government accounts. It flows directly into consumer tariffs. A significant portion of every electricity bill is not payment for power used, but for capacity that remains idle. As tariffs rise, demand falls. As demand falls, the burden per unit increases. It is a cycle that feeds on itself.
The grid, meanwhile, carries its own fragility. Transmission constraints limit how much electricity can actually move through the system. Distribution losses, inefficiencies and theft weaken it further. What we have is a system that is both overbuilt and underperforming.
Into this already complex equation enters the solar boom. Pakistan has seen a rapid surge in rooftop solar adoption. Net metering capacity has crossed 5 gigawatts, with solar panel imports accelerating faster than many anticipated. Consumers are making rational choices. Faced with rising tariffs, they are generating their own electricity. But this shift, while positive in isolation, creates a new imbalance within the system. As more consumers move to solar, their reliance on the grid declines.
Yet the system’s fixed costs remain unchanged. Capacity payments still need to be made. Infrastructure still needs to be maintained. The result is a shrinking pool of paying consumers carrying an unchanged financial burden. This has triggered policy responses, such as changes to net metering, leading to growing consumer dissatisfaction.
It is important to recognise that the government is not ignoring the problem. There has been a consistent effort to manage the situation, renegotiate terms and stabilise the sector. But the challenge is structural. The system was designed for centralised generation and predictable demand. It is now facing decentralised production and shifting consumption patterns.
And this is where a different way of thinking becomes necessary.
What if the answer is not just more generation, but survival within the system itself? What if, like that one individual kept away from the crowd, the energy system needs its own form of designated survivor? Something that does not collapse when the rest of the system is under stress.
This is where sand batteries begin to make sense. At a conceptual level, they offer a simple but powerful shift. Instead of allowing excess solar energy to overwhelm the grid during the day or go to waste, it can be stored locally as heat. Sand, heated to high temperatures and contained within insulated systems, can hold that energy for extended periods. It can then be released when demand rises, particularly during evening peaks.
Now imagine this not as a single installation, but as a network of localised systems. Clusters of 300 to 500 households, each with access to a shared sand battery. The excess energy generated within that cluster is not returned to an already strained grid. It is stored, managed, and redistributed within the community.
In this model, the government plays a central but enabling role. It owns the storage infrastructure, ensures fair accounting, and compensates solar producers based on the energy they contribute. Consumers, in turn, benefit from a more stable supply and a system that better uses what is already being generated.
What this creates is not just storage. It creates a form of resilience that the current system lacks. In a country like Pakistan, the advantages are hard to ignore. The raw material is abundant. The technology is relatively simple. The cost profile is significantly lower than that of conventional battery storage. Most importantly, it aligns with the direction the energy landscape is already moving toward.
Sometimes, resilience does not come from strengthening the centre. It comes from ensuring that when the centre falters, something else is ready to carry the weight.
The writer is a trade, policy and climate expert, and managing director of Carbo-X.
