In the aftermath of a disaster, the strengths of any society become immediately visible. The cohesiveness, resilience, technological brilliance, and extraordinary competence of the Japanese are now on full display. One report from Rikuzentakata —a town of 25,000, annihilated by the tsunami—describes volunteer firefighters working to clear rubble and search for survivors; military personnel and police efficiently directing traffic and supplies; survivors not only "calm and pragmatic" but coping "with politeness and sometimes amazingly good cheer."
Thanks to these strengths, Japan will eventually recover. But at least one Japanese nuclear power complex will not. As I write, three reactors at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power station appear to have lost their cooling capacity. Engineers are flooding the plant with seawater—effectively destroying it—then letting off radioactive steam. There have been two explosions. By the time you read this article, the situation may be worse.
Yet Japan's nuclear power stations were designed with the same care and precision as everything else in the country. More to the point, Japan is the only country in the world to have experienced true nuclear catastrophe. They had an incentive to build well, in other words, as well as the capability, the laws, and regulations to do so. Which leads to the unavoidable question: If the competent and technologically brilliant Japanese can't build a completely safe reactor, who can?
It can be argued—and it will be—that the Japanese situation is extraordinary. Few countries are as vulnerable to natural catastrophe as Japan, and the scale of this earthquake is unprecedented. But there are other kinds of extraordinary situations and other unprecedented circumstances. In an attempt to counter the latest worst possible scenarios, a Franco-German company began constructing a supersafe, "next-generation" nuclear reactor in Finland several years ago. The plant was designed to withstand the impact of an airplane—a post-9/11 concern—and includes a chamber allegedly able to contain a core meltdown. But it was also meant to cost $4 billion and to be completed in 2009. Instead, it has had uncounted setbacks, may now cost $6 billion or more, and isn't finished yet.
Ironically, the Finnish plant was meant to launch the renaissance of the nuclear power industry in Europe—an industry that has lately enjoyed a renaissance around the world, thanks almost entirely to fears about climate change. Nuclear plants emit no carbon. As a result, after a long post-Chernobyl lull, nuclear plants have lately become fashionable again. Some 62 new nuclear reactors are under construction at the moment; a further 158 are being planned, and another 324 have been proposed.
Increasingly, nuclear power is also promoted because it is safe. Which it is—except, of course, when it is not. The chances of a major disaster are tiny, 1-in-100 million. But in the event of a statistically improbable major disaster, the damage could include, say, the destruction of a city or the poisoning of a country. The cost of such a potential catastrophe is partly reflected in the price of plant construction and partly explains the cost overruns in Finland: Nobody can risk the tiniest flaw in the concrete or the most minimal reduction in the quality of the steel.
But as we are about to learn in Japan, the true costs of nuclear power are never reflected even in the very large price of plant construction. Inevitably, the enormous costs of nuclear waste disposal fall to taxpayers, not the nuclear industry. The costs of cleanup, even in the wake of a relatively small accident, are eventually borne by the government. The costs of health care will also be paid by society at large, one way or another. If there is true nuclear catastrophe in Japan, the entire world will pay the price.
I hope that this never happens. I feel nothing but admiration for the Japanese nuclear engineers who have been battling catastrophe for several days now. If anyone can prevent a disaster, the Japanese can do it. But I also hope that a near-miss causes people around the world to think twice about the true "price" of nuclear energy and stops the nuclear renaissance dead in its tracks.