When massive waves swamped back-up generators at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear complex on March 11, 2011, spent fuel rods overheated, spewing deadly radiation into the atmosphere, ground and water. In the frantic aftermath, two lesser known events stand out.
On June 26, Japan's Ministry of Economy, Trade, and Industry held a public forum on whether to restart reactors in Genkai, Kyushu. It was later discovered that Kyushu Electric Power Company rigged "local" support by urging all employees to comment in favor of reopening "safe" reactors.
When Emperor Akihito, a renowned biologist, delivered a speech on the first anniversary of the 3/11 calamity, state-run TV stations immediately deleted his statements regarding "nuclear power accident" and "radioactive contamination." Such orchestrated deception and censorship further enflamed public anger and distrust of the nuclear industry.
As the worst nuclear accident since Chernobyl in 1986, Fukushima is a wake-up call to the world. Countries like Germany, France, Sweden and Finland are reconsidering their nuclear dependence through alternatives like geothermal, wind and solar. The U.S., however, is ramping up reliance with official rhetoric regarding nuclear reactors' safety and security.
But just how safe are we, particularly when it comes to high-level nuclear waste, most of it from spent fuel rods held in temporary cooling pools at nuclear reactor sites, as in Fukushima?
With around 70,000 metric tons of spent fuel at more than 75 sites in 34 states, and 2,000 tons added each year, high-level nuclear garbage is our monumental migraine. New York has more than 3,000 tons of spent fuel.
Fuel rods in reactors containing uranium pellets to generate heat and, in turn, electricity eventually dissipate. "Spent fuel" is misleading. Though used-up, most of it remains highly radioactive — for tens and hundreds of thousands of years.
Most spent fuel pools are over-filled and past their temporary storage time of 5.5 years. Transferring the waste into recommended dry casks of thick steel-reinforced concrete is prohibitive for utilities, costs running into hundreds of millions of dollars per reactor. Plant operators instead insist on repairing and resuscitating aged reactors. In this twisted cost-benefit analysis, profits trump safety.
Take Indian Point Energy Center, 115 miles down the river from Albany and 38 miles upwind from New York City. Since 2007, nine shutdowns resulted from mishaps like generator power loss, blocked cooling valves, and a steam boiler rupture. Proximity to the Ramapo fault-line and spent fuel accumulation led the Nuclear Regulatory Commission to rate its Reactor 3, among 104 U.S. nuclear reactors, most likely to melt in the event of an earthquake.
Gov. Andrew Cuomo has argued for shutting down the plant. Entergy, which owns Indian Point, insists on its safety. And NRC declares no real public threat from the plant. Last month, the NRC allowed the plant to operate beyond one reactor's expiration at the end of September. A decision on the plant's 20-year relicensing request will take over a year.
Where will our nuclear graveyards be? Deep underground, deep-ice, ocean seabed, uninhabited islands?
Regardless of where we stand on nuclear energy, we all face this mind-boggling quandary, runaway technology at its worst.
Yet we still own one major choice. Stay the course and live our lives in business-as-usual mode or resist energy excess with the energy of thoughtful outrage and action.
Michael Brannigan is the Pfaff Endowed Chair in Ethics and Moral Values at The College of Saint Rose. michael.brannigan@strose.edu.
