Dear friends, good morning!
The coffers have opened, and the government has offered a first response to the energy crisis and to the “harsh winter” it now itself anticipates. Its measures are limited given the fiscal constraints, but significant and undoubtedly necessary.
There is just one small detail: direct subsidies at the pump apply, for now, until the end of October. The difficult period, by contrast, still lies ahead.
And this is where the impression begins to take hold that measures are being doled out drop by drop. The government extends or adjusts its measures as prices evolve, and today we know what will happen until 31 October. And after that? We will see.
The explanation is understandable: international prices are highly volatile, and no one knows today how much the energy crisis will cost in the coming months. Politically, though, there is another side to the issue. When people know what they will be paying for the next two weeks, but not in November, December or January, it is difficult to feel secure about the winter ahead.
And the figures today offer little cause for complacency.
Inflation surged to 5% in September, with natural gas 55.2% more expensive, diesel 38.8%, petrol 22.5% and electricity 15%. The IMF, meanwhile, cut its growth forecast to 1.8% and raised its forecast for inflation this year to 4.2%.
And the energy crisis does not stop at the pump. It feeds through into transport costs, production, the prices of goods on shop shelves and, ultimately, disposable income. Subsidies can ease the burden. But they can do little to prevent all its knock-on effects.
The key point is that this winter does not begin with a clean slate. A significant part of society is already under pressure from a prolonged period of high prices, the housing crisis and the sense that improvements in macroeconomic indicators do not always reach the family wallet.
The polls reflect this. The cost of living remains by far the biggest problem, while more than half of citizens say their standard of living has worsened. Even more believe the government is not responding to the situation quickly enough.
This is precisely where the political risk lies. A government can be comfortably ahead in the polls and at the same time be losing ground with the public. Growth and employment indicators may improve while people feel poorer. After all, in politics, indicators do not vote. It is the people who feel their effects who vote.
Events in France and Albania these days do not lend themselves to easy comparisons. Different societies, different problems, different political circumstances. But they offer a useful reminder: accumulated public discontent can eventually find a spark that takes it from opinion polls to the streets.
British political history has a term for it, too. The “Winter of Discontent” of 1978-79, borrowed from Shakespeare, went down in history not simply for the strikes that brought the country to a standstill, but because it captured the moment when economic pressure turned into a crisis of confidence in the government.
Obviously, Greece in 2026 is not Britain in 1979. But the lesson remains.
Governments are not at risk because an inflation figure shows 4% or 5%. They are at risk when a significant part of society becomes convinced that it is losing control of its daily life and, even more, that those in power cannot give it back.
That is why the government’s challenge is far greater than the cents to be knocked off a litre of diesel or petrol. It is to prevent economic pressure from turning into social and, ultimately, political discontent.
The harsh winter is already here. The question for the government is not only how much it will cost to make it milder. It is what it will leave behind when it has passed. Because subsidies eventually run out.
The fallout, however, may reach as far as the ballot box.