Susan Q. Stranahan
covered the Three Mile Island accident for The Inquirer and has written often about nuclear issues. She currently lives in Maine.
Thirty years ago, the nation was coming off a crippling energy crisis, rooted in our dependence on foreign oil. At the time, nuclear power held out the promise of limitless, cheap, reliable power supplies. Then, early in the morning of March 28, 1979, a thunderous burst of steam echoed over the Susquehanna River. The nuclear promises went up in smoke, too.
Today, as the ailing United States again searches for cheap, dependable, and environmentally benign sources of energy, the self-burnished nuclear industry is back at the table, touting a nuclear renaissance and promoting itself as the answer to our needs. How short is our memory?
As many as 30 new reactors are planned for the United States. (That number may drop now that $50 billion in subsidies were eliminated from the federal stimulus bill and credit is scarce.) Among them is a reactor proposed for the Chesapeake Bay about 150 miles south of Three Mile Island, called Calvert Cliffs-3. (Two other reactors already occupy the site.)
Calvert Cliffs-3 has been heralded as the flagship of the nuclear renaissance. But in the words of one nuclear-safety watchdog, it's more of a rerun. Consider the following:
The reactor design is so new it has not even been certified for construction in the United States. A similar design, currently being built in Finland, is nearly two years behind schedule and double its original cost. This so-called European Pressurized Reactor has been plagued with quality-control problems - including substandard cooling pipes and slumping concrete. Its owner has reported $1.7 billion in losses. The final tally will not be known until all the lawsuits are resolved.
Last year, the company that wants to build Calvert Cliffs-3 sought a construction and operating license from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. That company is UniStar Nuclear Operating Services, which is co-owned by Constellation Energy Group Inc., of Baltimore, and Electricite de France, 85 percent of which is owned by the French government, making it the first U.S. reactor with foreign owners.
Several public-interest groups challenged the license request and asked for a full review of several issues, including foreign ownership (which, they argued, is barred under the Atomic Energy Act). They also questioned the adequacy of the company's plans for waste disposal and decommissioning of the plant - two perennial thorns in the side of nuclear power. The groups claimed they had legal standing to file the challenge because their members lived within 50 miles of the plant and could be harmed by an accident.
In response, UniStar argued that its reactor design is so safe that it falls below the legal threshold of posing any risk to the public. (Does this sound familiar?)
Last week, an NRC licensing board rejected that claim, saying that the only proof of the plant's safety comes from the owners. The public, the panel noted, should have the opportunity to "dispute and put to the test" such assertions.
The Atomic Safety and Licensing Board panel went even further, throwing up some sizable hurdles for UniStar. (It left unanswered the dominant issue - the legality of foreign ownership.) UniStar must provide more details about how it will fund the estimated $378 million to decommission the reactor when it is retired - an amount the public interest groups argue is not adequate.
Especially problematic is the issue that has haunted nuclear power since Day One: Waste disposal. Despite all the talk about 30 new reactors, there is no place to put the spent fuel those plants would spew out - waste that remains dangerous for thousands of years. Actually, there is no place to put the tons of waste produced by the nation's 103 operating reactors - and the prospects of finding a home for that have dimmed considerably in recent weeks.
The Obama administration has eliminated almost all funding for Yucca Mountain, the controversial and costly ($8 billion so far, and counting) site designated 22 years ago as the permanent repository for spent reactor fuel. Absent its completion, spent fuel currently is stored at the reactors themselves, although some facilities no longer have space for more. By most accounts, Yucca Mountain will never open. Thus, we are no closer to a waste repository than we were 30 years ago.
Come to think of it, nuclear power is not our energy salvation; it is still a high-stakes gamble.
