Mad Science: The Nuclear Power Experiment

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Mad Science: The Nuclear Power Experiment Page 21

by Joseph Mangano


  The book referred to earlier estimates by Dr. John Gofman, discoverer of several radioactive uranium and plutonium isotopes and part of the Manhattan Project, and Dr. Rosalie Bertell, the Catholic nun and mathematician who made the health risk of radiation exposure her life work.

  The impact of Chernobyl is still being felt. Three Mile Island was a setback for the already-slipping American nuclear program, but Chernobyl dealt it an even more devastating blow. Images of a reactor with damaged metal sticking out in all directions, along with pallid faces of dying workers and children in hospitals with no hair on their heads were more powerful than Three Mile Island. The rationalization that Chernobyl was a Soviet-made, not American-made reactor, was trumped by the fact that human error had caused Chernobyl, and humans were still operating reactors all across the world, including the US. A quarter of a century later, Chernobyl maintains an indelible mark on nuclear power.

  The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 destroyed the twin towers at the World Trade Center in New York City, and damaged the Pentagon, with nearly 3,000 people losing their lives. The attacks, orchestrated by the group Al Qaeda, ushered in a new period in which terrorism was an actual threat, that attacks could successfully occur on American soil, and that numerous American institutions could be targets.

  Nuclear reactors were one of these. In his 2002 State of the Union address just four months after the attacks, President George W. Bush noted that plans of Al Qaeda to attack US nuclear plants had been discovered. Suddenly, officials at nuclear power plants had to explain themselves. Nuclear plants were secure, they said; but paradoxically, increased security measures would be implemented right away. Another refrain, that a fast-moving jet airplane that crashed into a nuclear reactor could not penetrate the containment building, was an assertion that many challenged.

  One of the two airplanes that destroyed the World Trade Center had taken off in Boston. After being hijacked by terrorists, it flew directly south towards New York City – and directly over the Indian Point nuclear plant, just twenty-three miles from the New York City border and thirty-five miles north of midtown Manhattan. This fact was not lost on local residents and officials, many of whom called for the plant to be shut down. The governments of the four counties that flank Indian Point (Orange, Putnam, Rockland, and Westchester) all voted to not endorse the plant’s emergency evacuation plan in 2002, but were overridden by the NRC.

  Entergy Nuclear of Jackson Mississippi, the large corporation which owns ten US nuclear plants, had just purchased Indian Point less than a year before the 9/11 attacks. It suddenly found itself on the defensive, and for years after aired and printed advertisements citing Indian Point as “safe” energy. As the forty-year license expiration dates (2013 and 2015) for the plant’s two reactors approach, many New York officials opposing any license extension, including Governor Andrew Cuomo, cite risk of a terrorist attack as one of their reasons.

  After Three Mile Island, there were no further core meltdowns at US nuclear plants, aided in part by the stricter regulations and practices suggested by the Kemeny Commission. This cheered many nuclear proponents, who believed that meltdowns were a thing of the past.

  But the absence of a meltdown didn’t mean the threat had disappeared. Over the years, many accidents occurred that brought reactors close to a meltdown. The advocacy group Greenpeace USA published a report that listed 200 “near miss” meltdown situations at American nuclear plants in the two decades after Chernobyl. Among those was the 2002 situation at the Davis-Besse plant near Toledo, Ohio, found not during an official inspection but quite by accident. Boric acid had eaten through an eight-inch steel beam at the top of the reactor, so that it was just one-eighth of an inch at its thinnest point – just that much short of allowing radiation to leak into the air. The Davis-Besse plant closed for over one year for repairs.

  In early 2011, many Americans probably thought of meltdowns at US nuclear reactors as a historical artifact. The twenty-fifth anniversary of Chernobyl, the last major meltdown, was approaching. The lengthy effort to reinvigorate nuclear power in the US also helped push meltdowns from the American consciousness.

  But on March 11 of that year, news from halfway around the world jolted the thoughts of many who were otherwise complacent. In northern Japan, a powerful earthquake measuring 9.0 on the Richter scale, the worst in Japanese history, struck with terrifying force. The earthquake was followed by a tsunami which swept through the area with waves up to thirty feet high. The devastation was the worst ever for a natural disaster in Japan. It took the lives of nearly 30,000 people, destroying cities, roads, buildings, and means of communications.

  Not far from the center of the earthquake and tsunami lay two nuclear plants at Fukushima Daichi, seven miles apart, which operate a total of ten reactors. Japan has one of the highest concentrations of nuclear reactors in the world, with fifty-four reactors in a country the size of California. The disaster cut off the electricity at the plant, and disabled the backup generators. Without electricity, or the capacity to replace it, no water could be created to cool the highly radioactive reactor cores and waste pools. And with roads and other means of transportation devastated, help was not immediately available.

  What happened next was a nightmare. There were meltdowns in three of the reactor cores, and two of the spent fuel pools. Television viewers watched with horror as several explosions in the next few days tore apart the containment buildings, and huge amounts of radioactivity were released. Within several weeks, even the reluctant Japanese government classified the situation as a “Level 7” – which recommended evacuation of all persons living within three kilometers from the plant, a radius that soon rose to ten, then twenty, and then thirty kilometers. Many Japanese living more than thirty kilometers away are still eating food and drinking water that are far more contaminated with radiation than usual. Experts still didn’t know when he meltdowns may be fully controlled, a year after the disaster.

  Fukushima gave another dimension to the worst case scenario of a nuclear meltdown. For the first time, multiple reactors were involved (all others involved a single reactor). In addition, another cause of a meltdown was added – an act of nature. Before 2011, only mechanical and human errors caused meltdowns, and acts of sabotage represented another possible cause. But now, an earthquake and tsunami could cause the unthinkable – forces of nature that could happen as easily in the US (with its extensive coastline) as in Japan.

  The disaster had an immediate impact on the attitudes of Americans. Polls showed a drastic decline in the percent who favored building new nuclear reactors. A poll taken of 814 Americans in the first week after Fukushima showed a strong anti-nuclear sentiment and a nearly equally strong preference to use clean renewable energy sources instead.

  Source: “ORC International: After Fukushima American Attitudes About Nuclear Power Policy Questions” A Survey Conducted for the Civil Society Institute, March 22, 2011. http://www.csi.org.

  Then there was the issue of whether Japanese fallout would make it to the US, and whether health there would be threatened. It took precisely six days after the earthquake/tsunami for airborne radiation from Fukushima to hit the west coast. In the days following, the EPA produced data showing that environmental radiation levels had jumped. In the period March 18–25, based on sixty-six air samples and twelve precipitation samples, the average concentration of iodine-131 was about twenty times above normal – and up to 100 times above normal in Idaho (see table below). Elevated radiation levels had reached all parts of the US. These data are preliminary, but important. They are comparable to levels after large-scale aboveground atomic bomb tests in China in the late 1970s and close to half of the peak levels after Chernobyl in 1986 (EPA). Levels found by the EPA fell in April, and the EPA announced on May 3 that it would revert to its typical program of taking samples every three months, as opposed to at least weekly, a move that disappointed many as the Fukushima meltdowns were still in progress.

  All figures are in
picocuries of iodine-131 per cubic meter of air. The high level in 2011 was recorded in Boise Idaho (0.840), or 84 times above normal.

  The health impacts on Americans of Japanese fallout would take time to calculate, perhaps several years. If there are any adverse effects, it is likely that the fetus and infant, or elderly, would suffer most immediately. Preliminary data from the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention showed that in the first fourteen weeks after the radioactive plume entered the US, the average number of weekly reported infant deaths in 119 US cities (30% of the population) rose 1.80% higher than the fourteen weeks of a year earlier. The 2010–2011 change for the prior fourteen week periods was a decrease of 8.37%. There was also a gap for deaths for all ages. Again, this is preliminary, but suggests the patterns found after Chernobyl may be repeated.

  Other meltdowns at European nuclear plants have occurred as well, although they are not as well-recognized as Three Mile Island, Chernobyl, and Fukushima. In 1967, the small reactor Unit 2 at Chapelcross in Scotland experienced blockage in one portion of its reactor core, but was not shut down until 2004. In 1989, the brand-new Griefswald 5 reactor in the former East Germany suffered a meltdown that damaged ten fuel elements, and was closed permanently.

  In France, a nation whose leadership prides itself in being the most nuclear country in the world (80% of its electricity is from nuclear plants), meltdowns at two reactors at the Saint-Laurent plant occurred. The brand-new Reactor A-1 experienced its melting uranium in 1969, and Reactor A-2 followed in 1980; both plants shut down permanently in 1992.

  Over half a century ago, the first meltdowns broke through the “it couldn’t happen here” belief. The Japanese fiasco actually broke through the same belief, which was being repaired, once again. With 104 aging nuclear reactors still operating in the US and 439 worldwide, the possibility of another meltdown is probably not a matter of if, but when. There are about sixteen million Americans who live within thirty kilometers (18.6 miles) from a nuclear plant – the radius of mandatory evacuation after Fukushima.

  Note: Three samples from May 1–3, 1986 were negative numbers, and assumed to be 0. All figures are in picocuries of iodine-131 per liter of precipitation. The high level in 2011 was recorded in Boise Idaho (242), or 121 times above normal.

  Sources: U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. http://epa.gov/japan2011/docs/rert/radnet-air-final.pdf and http://epa.gov/japan2011/docs/rert/radnet-precipitation-final.pdf. Also U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, Environmental Radiation Data, Report 8 (April 1977) and Volume 46 (April–June 1986).

  Meltdowns have had an impact on nuclear policy, turning many leaders and citizens against the technology, and the Japanese disaster of 2011 will make that impact even stronger in the future. The Japanese meltdowns, along with the nagging issue of who will pay for the very expensive new reactors, will ensure that virtually no new orders for US reactors will occur.

  Defibrillating a Corpse

  The 1990s started out as a bleak time for the US nuclear industry. All orders for new reactors had ceased, and by the middle of the decade, all new reactor construction was finished. The remaining reactors were still experiencing mechanical problems, and were closed a substantial proportion of the time for repairs. A growing number of utilities were opting to throw in the towel, and close reactors. Prior to 1987, only nine US reactors had closed, and all of these were very the small original reactors (except for the Three Mile Island reactor that melted down).

  But in just over a decade, from the late 1980s to the late 1990s, another fourteen reactors shut down permanently, bringing the number left in operation to 104. Many of these closed reactors were large units; they were originally expected to operate for forty years, but performed poorly from a safety and financial point of view. The list of closed reactors, both before and after 1987, is given in the table below.

  It is noteworthy that federal regulators never closed a single reactor, even the stricken Three Mile Island reactor. All shutdowns were decisions by utilities to abandon their once-prized reactors (with one exception: the Rancho Seco reactor near Sacramento California was owned by a municipal authority, and closed in 1989 after a public vote). Most of the utilities that elected to close reactors were relatively small, and turned to other sources of energy.

  With no new reactors on the horizon, and the existing reactors aging, the only option for the industry was to try and get as much use and revenue out of the current fleet as possible – a good idea from a business standpoint, but a disturbing one from a health and safety standpoint.

  With construction of new reactors a dead issue, one other way to get a little more out of the nuclear power industry was to get more power out of existing reactors. This could be done by modest expansions of reactors, simply by asking for permission from the all-too-willing NRC.

  From late 1977 to late 1992, fifteen such proposals were submitted, and the NRC approved all fifteen. These uprates allowed operators to generate more electricity, but they were all small ones – an average of about a 4% expansion. This adds up only to about half of one large new reactor, which had little effect on total output at US nuclear plants.

  But after these initial applications, utilities caught on to the idea that uprates could provide more power – and more revenue. In the nineteen years from spring 1993 to spring 2012, 129 proposed uprates were submitted to the NRC – and all 129 were granted. While most were small, several were substantial expansions of reactors. Of the 129 uprates, sixteen of these raised reactor capacity by 13 to 20%. The total additional power that could be produced was 5,849 megawatts electrical, which amounted to nearly six new reactors – a relatively easy way to “build” new plants without having to turn a single shovel of earth.

  Sources: US Nuclear Regulatory Commission

  U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. http://epa.gov/japan2011/docs/rert/radnet-air-final.pdf and http://epa.gov/japan2011/docs/rert/radnet-precipitation-final.pdf. Also U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, Environmental Radiation Data, Volume 46 (April –June 1986).

  The reactor uprate craze continues. By the spring of 2012, twenty more pending applications had been submitted, all of which will almost certainly be approved by the rubber-stamp NRC. Half are large expansions of 12–17%, and would amount to the equivalent of another one-and-a-half new reactors. Uprates haven’t amounted to a total nuclear revolution, but helped give the revival an early start.

  As mentioned, US reactors have a historically poor record of mechanical safety. In 1972–74, the “capacity factor” (portion of time in operation) of US reactors was a paltry 48%. By 1985–87, the number wasn’t much better (57.4%). Reactors were closed often to repair mechanical problems, and repairs took more time than utilities wanted. Being closed nearly half of the time – when no electricity could be produced, and no revenue could be generated – was bad business, as well as a reflection of an inability to operate efficiently.

  After the 1980s, the capacity factor of US reactors rose. Utilities became more experienced with anticipating and correcting reactor problems. In addition, large utilities began to buy reactors from smaller ones. The “vertical integration” approach to operating reactors employed by these large companies meant that specialists in one particular aspect of reactors would be assigned that role for all reactors owned by the corporation. This “floater” technique has reduced time needed to correct any problems. In addition, operators developed methods of fixing problems while not having to shut down reactors.

  The capacity factor rose sharply, until by 2002, the national mark reached 90.3%. Since then, the factor has hovered around 90% for each subsequent year. A jump in capacity factor from 57% to 90% for a fleet of about 100 reactors amounts to an increase of 55% of electricity generated and sold, which lined the pockets of utilities considerably.

  However, many analysts of nuclear power were not pleased with the soaring capacity factor. They likened it to running an old car much more of the time, a move that makes it more likely for the car to b
reak down. The national average was 90%, but for one-quarter of the reactors, the 2007–2009 figure topped 95%. For the La Salle 1 reactor in Illinois, the annual numbers were 99%, 100%, and 99%, while figures for the Davis Besse reactor (which had come close to a meltdown in 2002) were 99%, 97%, and 99%.

  Raising the capacity factor helped boost the bottom line of utilities. But energy demands were rising rapidly, and pushing old reactors as hard as possible would barely make a dent in meeting these needs. Moreover, this move was only temporary, since many reactors were approaching the end of their forty-year license. The nuclear industry, however, had other plans.

  In 1990, two US nuclear reactors had been operating for twenty-eight and thirty years, and another eight had been operating for at least twenty. The oldest of these was Yankee Rowe, a small reactor in western Massachusetts. The process of applying for a license extension for another twenty years past the original forty-year limit would be a lengthy one, especially for the early prototypes. Thus, the process to extend Yankee Rowe’s license would need to begin well in advance of the forty-year deadline.

  Surprisingly, the process was not the typical NRC rubber-stamp. Instead, NRC staff found that the pressure vessel at Yankee Rowe was badly corroded from years of operation, and concluded that continued operation would raise the chance that a meltdown could not be contained in the reactor building. NRC senior metallurgist Pryor Randall concluded that continued operations at Yankee Rowe would not be safe (“I cannot agree that restart is safe or justified.”)

 

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