Needed: Ability to manage nuclear power

One day in August 2013, hundreds of motorcycle-riding students converged on a government office in Indonesia's South Bangka District. They came with a demand—not that tuition increases be reversed, or that job opportunities for young people be prioritized, but that the district head denounce plans to construct the country's first nuclear power plant on Bangka Island. The district head demurred, but an antinuclear movement persists on Bangka Island and in much of the country. Indonesians simply don't trust their government to get nuclear power right.

Following the accident at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station, one might have expected nuclear power to lose much of its appeal. But in many developing countries, Indonesia among them, the desire for nuclear power has remained strong among officials, even if publics may harbor deep concerns about governmental ability to operate nuclear facilities.

To understand the dynamics of nuclear politics in Indonesia, it is useful to understand the nation's recent economic history—this is the backdrop against which the pronuclear and antinuclear camps make their cases. In the last years of the 20th century, Indonesia suffered through a bitter financial crisis. It experienced a few years of malaise thereafter. But over the past decade or so, Indonesia has achieved remarkable economic growth. Due partly to the government's efforts to battle deindustrialization, along with a program of liberalization that has included the opening of domestic markets to international products and investment, Indonesia has become one of the world's more important emerging economies. It is a member of the Group of Twenty (G-20). Its gross domestic product in 2012 was $878 billion—more than nine times its level in 1998, during the depths of the Asian Financial Crisis.

This massive economic expansion has had profound implications for energy demand—and energy has long been a fraught issue in Indonesia. Beginning in the 1970s, during the Suharto regime, Indonesia experienced an oil boom. Oil satisfied the country's energy demand and also became the government's primary means for funding development projects including a program of rapid industrialization. But the regime's reckless management of oil resources led to severe inefficiency in energy production and distribution. By the turn of the century, oil reserves were rapidly depleting, and in 2005 the country became a net importer of oil. Indonesia's electrification rate is around 70 percent, among the lowest rates in Southeast Asia. Major cities such as Jakarta, Bandung, and Surabaya suffer from frequent blackouts. Soaring economic growth is only widening the gap between supply and demand. So the search has intensified for alternative energy sources—nuclear power among them.

Indonesia's experience with nuclear technology dates back to the late 1950s, when the Institute of Atomic Power was established. In the 1960s, a more full-fledged entity—the National Nuclear Power Agency, known as BATAN—was created. A research reactor funded by the US “Atoms for Peace” program was installed. Later, two more research reactors were built. Indonesia developed its capacities in fields such as isotope production for medical and agricultural purposes. Today, Indonesia's decades of experience in operating research reactors would seem to indicate that the country has the capacity to operate power reactors as well.

Plans to develop a nuclear power sector have been discussed since the 1970s. But oil so dominated energy policy under Suharto that little progress was made for decades. In 2004, however, the government adopted a new energy policy according to which nuclear power would account for about 2 percent of electricity production by 2025. Four reactors would be built, producing 4,000 megawatts of electricity among them. Nuclear energy was portrayed as a clean, cost-effective energy source.

The first reactor was to have been completed by 2016 but it has been delayed repeatedly due to antinuclear protests—in particular, protests against nuclear power plants on the highly volcanic island of Java. Facing strong public opposition, the government in 2010 abandoned plans for reactors on Java. Plans now center on Bangka Island. The change has had implications for the project's scale—plans now call for two reactors instead of four, and lower electricity output.

The decision to scale down the nuclear project may seem an appropriate response to public opposition. But the question is why public attitudes toward nuclear power in Indonesia are so dominated by fear of nuclear hazards—a fear that has only intensified since Fukushima, which demonstrated that even a country with a strong safety culture can struggle in the face of a nuclear catastrophe.

In Indonesia, the root of public concern is the government's notoriously poor capacity to ensure public safety and security—as demonstrated, for example, in failed disaster mitigation and in frequent transportation accidents. Public resistance is not rooted in concerns about nuclear technocrats' competence—BATAN has had 50 years of experience operating research reactors. But BATAN isn't the issue. The issue is that the public distrusts the entire institution of government. Indonesians perceive their government as inefficient, poorly coordinated, and widely corrupt. When it comes to operating high-risk technology, these are grave problems. They can only be solved through a program of institutional reform, but an effective reform process can take years.

In an emerging democracy like Indonesia, a nuclear power sector cannot be developed without public deliberation and public acceptance. So until Indonesia's government can improve its efficiency, coordination, and quality of governance—traits that underlie the capacity to operate a nuclear power sector—establishing such a sector will remain a political challenge.

Roughly four dozen countries that lack nuclear power are considering its adoption, but expressing interest in nuclear power and actually establishing a nuclear sector are different things. This is especially true for developing countries, as a majority of the four dozen are. Nuclear energy is a complex engineering proposition. It requires a major financial commitment. It cannot be justified unless a relatively large electricity grid is already in place. For these reasons among others, the majority of the developing countries that are contemplating the adoption of nuclear power will build no reactors in the foreseeable future.

A few will forge ahead—Turkey, for example, is now preparing for the construction of its first nuclear power facility. But most of the growth in the developing world's nuclear capacity will come in countries, notably China and India, where nuclear power already exists and where economic growth is driving strong electricity demand. In any event, developing countries that do embrace nuclear power—whether they are new entrants such as Turkey or established players such as China—face serious challenges that go beyond engineering, financing, and electricity grids. In particular, they must establish three things: a well-planned, sustainable process for nuclear development, an appropriate framework for safety, and a productive approach toward public attitudes on nuclear power.

A well-planned, sustainable development process establishes realistic expectations about the pace and scale of establishing a nuclear sector. It puts in place reliable procedures for issues such as choosing reactor designs. It encourages continuous review and improvement. Without such a development process, nuclear power programs can become very costly and time-consuming.

Well-functioning frameworks and organizations for nuclear safety can minimize the risks inherent in nuclear power plants. Though improvements in reactor design over the decades have improved safety at power plants, developing countries often must work hard to overcome shortages of qualified, experienced personnel and shortfalls in technical capability.

Public acceptance of nuclear energy is key to the expansion of nuclear sectors and also, ultimately, to their safe operation. In nations where policy making is not transparent, public opinion usually gains little attention at the early stages of nuclear development. This can become a major problem later on.

Challenges for China. The most ambitious nuclear energy state in the world today is China, which operates 20 reactors, is constructing 28 others, and is about to start construction on yet more. But China has faced, and in some cases struggled with, each of the three challenges identified above.

Regarding nuclear development and planning, China has made an extraordinary commitment to nuclear energy—even if plans have been altered somewhat by the accident at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station. In that accident's immediate aftermath, the Chinese government declared that it would not adjust its overall policy on nuclear power development. But it temporarily suspended approvals for new projects and toughened safety requirements as well. It also reduced its goal for installed nuclear capacity. The government now expects that 58 gigawatts of nuclear capacity will be installed by 2020, instead of the 80 gigawatts that were contemplated just before Fukushima. In addition, China has cut back on its plans for building second-generation reactors and has switched instead to third-generation designs. The advanced designs are safer, of course. But the switch has delayed the development of nuclear power in China, made it more expensive than expected, and significantly impacted manufacturers of nuclear equipment. And it has highlighted the fact that China's previous plans for nuclear energy depended too much on second-generation designs.

Regarding safety, China's nuclear sector has maintained a relatively clean record so far. But it is very debatable whether sound safety systems and a robust safety culture have been established within the nuclear industry. Some manufacturers of nuclear safety equipment, for example, once they have obtained all necessary certifications, can become free and easy about following regulations and implementing quality assurance procedures. They are known to purchase substandard raw materials and outsource work to unqualified subcontractors. Likewise, some utility companies neglect quality controls, accepting products from manufacturers that ought to be rejected. China's nuclear regulatory system needs improvement as well. Areas of concern include understaffed work forces for on-site safety inspections, inadequate procedures for on-site inspection and supervision, and a lack of advanced testing technologies and analytical methodologies.

China's government is centralized and its political system is closed. But that doesn't mean that public opinion about nuclear power is irrelevant. True, debate about nuclear power was scattered and disorganized before Fukushima, reflecting the public's low awareness of nuclear power (especially safety issues) and limited opportunities to participate in nuclear decision making. But after Fukushima, the public began to pay more attention. Debate intensified, protests broke out, and some local governments found nuclear projects hindered or even halted by public opposition. Going forward, enactment of China's plans for nuclear development will require strong, sustained public support. To ensure such support, the government should allow greater public participation during siting and licensing processes. Government and industry should respond more actively and transparently to public concerns about nuclear safety or nuclear accidents. (Withholding information and covering up mistakes only undermine public trust in government.) The government should also seek to educate the public about nuclear energy and safety; educational initiatives will be more effective if they are carried out by the government instead of electrical utilities.

Hard work. Around the world, safety concerns surrounding nuclear power have intensified as a result of Fukushima. But because of some developing countries' huge electricity demand and severe environmental stresses, the world nuclear industry has managed to keep moving forward. Still, any developing country that is considering the development or expansion of a nuclear energy sector must be aware of the challenges involved. These include engineering complexity and financial demands. They also include public acceptance, an issue that should be studied carefully ahead of time. Nuclear energy also requires a comprehensive development plan, one that takes into account a country's electricity demand, energy mix, economic characteristics, technical capabilities, geography, and so forth. In the realm of safety, developing countries can borrow regulations, rules, and standards from vendor countries—but challenges will remain. Some standards won't be applicable, or will need to be applied differently in their new environments, and standards in any event must continuously evolve. Developing nations must understand that, if they are to establish a strong safety culture, a well-functioning quality assurance system, and an effective system for regulatory enforcement and supervision, a great deal of time and effort is required.

After the accident at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Station, many observers expected that countries seeking to establish nuclear power sectors, or expand existing ones, would ask this question above all: How safe is nuclear energy? Instead, many developing countries still claim that nuclear energy is a solution to their energy woes and have dismissed Fukushima as a freakish, tsunami-induced disaster. Several developing nations—including Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, and Iran—are forging ahead toward the installation of new reactors.

Pakistan, my own country, suffers from severe energy stresses. Blackouts occur daily. Electricity riots have left the government feeling shaken. So Islamabad, buoyed by a $6.5 billion soft loan from China, has just inked a contract to purchase two 1,100-megawatt reactors from the China National Nuclear Corporation for $4.8 billion apiece. The two reactors are slated to operate in close proximity to Karachi, a city whose estimated population is 23.5 million.

The type of reactor that Pakistan will purchase, the ACP-1000, is a new design that has never been installed before or even tested, but the Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission is confident that Karachi faces no danger. Although the Pakistani government places deep faith in Chinese nuclear technology, some Chinese are not so sanguine. A former vice president of the China National Nuclear Corporation was recently quoted as saying, "Our state leaders have put a high priority on [nuclear safety] but companies executing projects do not seem to have the same level of understanding."

Untested reactor designs are by no means the only reason to worry about reactor safety in Pakistan. Another concern is a terrorist attack against a reactor—which, even if officials discount the possibility, is a distinct worry. Religious terrorists have carried out successful attacks on many of Pakistan's highly-guarded military institutions, including the general headquarters of the army, the Mehran naval base, and the Kamra air force base. There is no reason to believe that nuclear reactors would be invulnerable to attack.

Another worrying possibility, though it is also dismissed by officials, is operator error. At a nuclear power plant, there is simply no way for people outside the plant to know about bad practices within it. Indeed, the Chernobyl disaster was the result of imprudent actions on the part of reactor operators, and it underscored the vulnerability of nuclear power plants to poor judgment. These problems could be exacerbated at a Chinese-designed, Pakistani-operated reactor because operators would lack the intimate knowledge of design and software issues that they might have at an indigenous reactor.

Another issue of concern is the prevalence of industrial accidents in Pakistan. Though the country has suffered no single incident on the scale of the 1984 gas leak at Union Carbide's facility in Bhopal, India, industrial accidents occur frequently—partly because individuals who ignore safety standards are rarely punished. Disaster response capabilities such as firefighting are very limited and mobility is hampered by frequently clogged roads.

Even taking all this into consideration, the probability of a serious accident is still low. But what if such an accident were to occur? How well would the machinery of the state respond? On this count, there is ample reason to worry.

The government's response to past disasters has often been poor. Amid the country's 2010 floods, which left one-fifth of Pakistan inundated, the president and prime minister displayed a notable lack of urgency. The National Disaster Management Authority performed sluggishly. Populations downstream from the floods were not given the warnings they needed. Pakistan's ubiquitous armed jihadist groups substituted for the state in many places, just as they had done following the country's 2005 earthquake.

All this bodes ill for Pakistan if a serious accident at a nuclear reactor near Karachi forces an evacuation—which would be extremely chaotic and very different from Japan's disciplined evacuation of the Fukushima area. Pakistan suffers from sharp divisions between haves and have-nots, so widespread looting would be probable. Many people would therefore refuse to evacuate, preferring to wait out the danger. Emergency and law enforcement personnel, who are often poorly trained and demonstrate low motivation, might simply disappear from the scene. Pakistan also suffers from deep ethnic and religious tensions, and it is likely that members of minority groups would receive less help than others during an evacuation (as was true during the floods)—if in fact they received any help at all.

The Pakistani public's awareness of radiation hazards is nearly non-existent. Television stations freely propagate unsubstantiated rumors when reporting on both political and technical matters, so ill-informed views might become widespread during a nuclear disaster, resulting in either complacency or panic. To top things off, low consciousness of safety issues is simply an element of Pakistani culture. Pakistanis often accept high levels of risk and are satisfied to place their faith in God as their protector. Evacuation of Karachi amid a nuclear disaster is a terrible prospect to imagine.

Opaque and surreptitious. To argue against nuclear power in Pakistan is not to deny the severity of the country's electricity challenges, which are entrenched and multifaceted. To begin with, though Pakistan's installed electric capacity of 20 gigawatts is adequate in principle to meet daily average power demand of around 17 gigawatts, a mere 14.3 gigawatts, on average, are actually generated. That is, because of a financial management problem known as circular debt, about 30 percent of existing capacity is not used. Worse, Pakistan's distribution system is both leaky and subject to widespread theft, and these problems can eat up a staggering 25 to 30 percent of total production.

Even if it can address these problems, Pakistan will need to rely on a broad range of energy sources to meet its future needs, ranging from fossil fuels to renewable sources such as hydropower, solar, and wind—but at present, installed wind power amounts to only 50 megawatts, less than one one-thousandth of the estimated potential of the country's "wind corridors." Nuclear energy is no quick fix for these challenges, but the government behaves as if it is one.

Pakistani citizens have had little or no input on nuclear issues such as plant location and safety and the disposition of nuclear waste. This is partly because, in a country where the headlines every day concern terrorism and various other crises, citizens have little time or leisure to formulate and articulate positions on nuclear issues. But it is also because all of Pakistan's nuclear projects, whether civilian or military, are highly opaque. The authorities, pleading national security, strictly control all nuclear regulatory mechanisms and allow little scope for citizen involvement. Individuals not affiliated with the Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission or the Pakistan Nuclear Regulatory Authority are forbidden from monitoring radiation levels near any nuclear facility. People who raise questions about the safety of nuclear power plants are sometimes labeled agents of foreign powers. And when officials sought approval last year for a required environmental impact assessment report for the envisaged Karachi Nuclear Power Plants, they did so surreptitiously, without a public hearing.

No publicly available government study shows that nuclear reactors are the best or lowest-cost option to solve Pakistan's energy problems, and the case for nuclear energy is far from persuasive. But with billions of dollars at stake, commercial interests are working actively to promote these reactor sales. Concerns about Karachi's safety are being put on the back burner. One fears the consequences.