Skip to content
Signal · Strategy

The CSO and the CFO

By Lewis Howard · Founder, Co-CEO BRAE21 July 20267 min read

Sustainability has a reputation for being expensive. It is worth asking where that reputation actually comes from, because a good part of it is not economics. It is accounting.

We judge sustainability one line at a time. Each product, each supplier, each site carries its own cost line, owned by its own budget holder, reviewed on its own merits. And when you break the picture up that way, something quietly damaging happens: the savings and the costs get separated from each other and handed to different people. The savings - a leaner process here, a cheaper input there - land softly, get absorbed into a budget, and vanish into next year's baseline. The costs - the genuinely harder, more expensive moves - stack up visibly in one place, with a name against them. The net is never seen by anyone. And so a set of decisions that might, taken together, be broadly cost-neutral acquires the reputation of a cost. The disaggregation manufactures the myth.

One position, not a pile of lines

An ecologist looking at an ecosystem does not judge each organism by whether it, alone, is thriving. They read the behaviour of the whole system, because the parts only make sense in relation to one another. An investor does the same with a portfolio: nobody rates a single holding on whether it rose this quarter, in isolation from everything else in the book. What matters is the net position, and its risk.

Organisational spend deserves to be read the same way. It is a single financial position, not a heap of independent lines that happen to share a building. The moment you disaggregate it and distribute it to individual owners, you gain local accountability and you lose something larger: the ability to see the net. And sustainability's value is precisely the thing that lives in the net, not the line. Manage line by line and you will systematically lose it.

Where sustainability drives cost down

Start with the half of the story that gets forgotten, because it disappears into those baselines: the many ways a transition lowers cost.

A great deal of early decarbonisation is, at heart, efficiency: using less energy, less material and less input to do the same work. The gains that lean practitioners have chased for decades - trimming overproduction, waiting, excess transport, over-processing, surplus inventory, unnecessary motion and defects - are, at the same time, reductions in wasted energy, wasted material and wasted carbon. Consuming less of what costs money and carries a footprint lowers the bill and the footprint together. This is the stretch where doing the sustainable thing is not a cost at all; it is margin that was there to be captured.

Then there are the substitutions with a real payback. Switching a heavy goods fleet from diesel to biomethane carries a premium on the vehicle - on current figures, roughly twenty thousand pounds more than a diesel truck. But the fuel runs around thirty per cent cheaper, so the premium pays back inside one to two years, and a truck kept for five to seven years then delivers several more years of pure saving, at close to eighty per cent less carbon. Read on its own capital line in year one, it looks like an expense. Read across the asset's life, it is a cost reduction that happens to decarbonise.

The netting, made visible

Now put those next to a genuinely harder move and watch what individual accounting does to them.

Suppose a business runs three things in a year. A consumption and waste programme that takes cost out. A fleet swap that, past its payback, is saving money. And one honest, expensive decision on a hard-to-abate input - a lower-carbon material that, today, simply costs more. Judged as three separate lines, two owners are congratulated and the third is quietly marked as the person whose budget went up; the expensive line looks like a failure and becomes very hard to defend. Judged as one book, the surplus from the first two can be deliberately moved to fund the third, and the net across all three lands flat, or even down.

That reallocation is not a cost overrun to be explained away. It is portfolio management: a book being re-weighted on purpose, spending an internal surplus on the part of the transition that cannot pay for itself yet. The only reason it looks like failure is that nobody was holding the whole book.

Why line-by-line gets worse over time

There is a sting in this, and it is the most important part.

Abatement follows a curve. The early moves are cheap, often cost-negative, because they are mostly about leaning out waste and improving what already exists. The later moves are expensive, because closing the final gap usually means switching to materials or methods that do not yet have economies of scale behind them. A carpet tile shows the whole curve in a single product. Strip material out - thinner, lighter, less of it, more recycled content - and both cost and carbon fall together; one leading manufacturer has cut the embodied carbon of its carpet tile by around three-quarters this way, and a lean, recycled-nylon tile can end up cheaper, lower-carbon and more hard-wearing than a heavier conventional one. That is the cost-negative stretch. But to go the last distance - to hold that durability and performance while removing the remaining fossil content - you move to bio-based materials that are still early, still niche, still without scale. And the cost climbs back up.

Here is what line-by-line management does to that curve. In the cheap early years, it lets the savings dissipate - reabsorbed into distributed budgets, netted into baselines, forgotten. Then the company arrives at the expensive frontier with the hardest moves still to make and none of the accumulated surplus left to pay for them. The benefit was real. It was simply allowed to leak away, year after year, because it was never held as one position. And so the last mile - which the first mile could easily have funded - now looks impossible, and the business case stalls exactly where it matters most.

The shared job

This is what the partnership between the CSO and the CFO is actually for.

The CFO holds the book. The CSO can read, across that book, where cost and carbon move together and where they pull apart - which lines are cost-negative today, which are payback plays, and which are the genuinely hard, frontier moves that will need funding later. Between them, three things become possible that neither can do alone: hold the whole position rather than a scatter of lines; deliberately bank the surplus from the easy years instead of letting it dissolve into baselines; and spend it down, on purpose, against the expensive moves when they come. Do that, and the net stays flat or falling across the whole arc of the transition, and the frontier stays fundable because the early wins were kept and pointed at it.

That is the financial logic of sustainability. It is real, but it is only visible at the level of the whole book, and only capturable if two people who do not usually co-own anything decide to co-own this.

The whole is cheaper than the sum of its lines

Judged one line at a time, a transition will almost always look expensive, because the costs are concentrated and legible while the savings are diffuse and easily lost. Judged whole, it frequently pays for itself - and the years when it pays most are the early ones, whose surplus is exactly what funds the hard years still to come.

The CSO and the CFO are the only two people in the business positioned to see the whole, and to make sure the money the easy years generate is still there to spend when the difficult ones arrive. That is not a reporting task. It is one of the more consequential acts of financial stewardship a leadership team can perform.

Which is why the position has to be seen as one thing - spend, carbon and exposure, connected - rather than a thousand separate lines, each quietly losing the part of the story that would have made the case. Holding the whole book as a single, legible object is the work. It is the work Reverberate exists to make possible.

Sources

Carbon Neutral Floors — Interface. Interface reports cutting the embodied carbon of its carpet tile by 76% since 1996 through dematerialisation, recycled materials and manufacturing efficiency - before any offsetting.

Why biomethane is key to road freight decarbonisation — trans.info (CNG Fuels interview). Industry figures on the biomethane HGV switch: ~£20k vehicle premium, fuel ~30-35% cheaper than diesel, and a typical payback of 1-2 years over a 5-7 year vehicle life.

Carpet — Carbon Smart Materials Palette — Architecture 2030. Carpet fibre volume drives embodied carbon; high-recycled-content nylon can cut the yarn footprint by over 80%, while cheaper commodity-plastic fibres are often less durable.

Topics
CSO strategyCFOtransition financemarginal abatement costlean and carbonportfolio thinkingcorporate sustainability
← All of Signal