On March 11, a catastrophic earthquake — one of the four largest in the past century — struck in the ocean east of Japan, sending a colossal tsunami against the shore. By March 21, the toll of dead and missing, mainly from the tsunami, was estimated at 22,000.

As Japan confronted what Emperor Akihito called the worst crisis since World War II, we began to hear that the six-reactor complex at the Fukushima Daiichi plant, located directly in the tsunami’s path, had lost electrical power. The emergency generators also failed, apparently due to water damage to them or their fuel supply.

As we focus on the nuclear disaster at Fukushima, we emphasize that as of now, the tsunami itself is the far larger human tragedy. But like the tsunami itself, the nuclear disaster may portend further problems in other places, and is likely to affect a trend toward greater use of nuclear power around the world.

Not cool

Immediately, the arrow of trouble aimed at the most ominous type of nuclear accident: loss of cooling. Fission — splitting of radioactive elements that powers nuclear reactors — can stop when reactor operators flip a switch to insert control rods to absorb neutrons. This stops the chain reaction — the divison of uranium atoms that releases neutrons that split other atoms and generate heat — which is the whole point of building nuclear reactors to boil water and drive turbines.

But once the fission reactions cease, decay heat continues to be released from the unstable atoms that remain after fission, and it is this heat that must be removed by a cooling system after shutdown.

Past accidents have shown that decay heat can build up in seconds; and significant damage to the fuel and potentially reactor equipment can occur within minutes. The danger of such a “meltdown” is a major reason why nuclear designers and engineers focus so much effort on cooling the reactor core.

In the beginning, there was Three Mile Island

Japan, target of the only two atomic bombs used in war, is hardly the first nation to confront a “loss of coolant” emergency at a reactor. That happened on March 28, 1979, in the United States, where Pennsylvania’s Three Mile Island (TMI) reactor #2 began a partial melt-down.

Much later, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission concluded that the accident “was caused by a combination of personnel error, design deficiencies, and component failures.” As hundreds of alarms buzzed in the control room, operators, lacking a direct measurement of the water level inside the reactor, made a bad situation worse, the reactor went at least partly dry, and a large percentage of the fuel melted.

It’s safe to say the public reaction verged on panic as a bubble of explosive hydrogen built up inside the plant and evacuations were ordered.

The slow, dangerous removal of fuel revealed massive heating and damage inside the reactor. According to the book, “TMI 25 Years Later”¹: “A large portion of the core melted and flowed into the lower vessel. Most of the core experienced temperatures of at least 1727° C, with certain parts reaching 2527°C.”

At these temperatures, the essential containment vessel can weaken and fail.

TMI, the above book concluded, neared a complete a meltdown. “No one can say for sure, but some experts say that had the accident continued for another 20 to 45 minutes, the [reactor] vessel would have heated up and the metal would have lost its strength, leading to a rupture,” preventing further cooling and allowing superheated fuel to melt through the reactor vessel and enter – and likely exit — the reactor building.

From there, it’s impossible to speculate how widely the radiation would have spread, the authors wrote, but this is what is called the China Syndrome — a runaway load of reactor fuel melting its way down into the earth. Oddly, “China Syndrome” – the movie — was released 12 days before the TMI meltdown.

TMI #2 has since undergone a major cleanup. Intact and damaged fuel has been moved to storage at Idaho National Engineering Laboratory. Reactor #1 is operating normally, and final removal of the destroyed #2 awaits the decommissioning of its companion.

According to the Nuclear Regulatory Commission: “Estimates are that the average dose to about 2 million people in the area was only about 1 millirem. To put this into context, exposure from a chest X-ray is about 6 millirem.”

Nevertheless, the alarm over TMI sent the U.S. nuclear industry into a tailspin.

 

The meltdown of TMI was the death knell for growth in American nuclear industry — the spate of plants licensed during the 1980s had all been planned or under construction by 1979. Rollover to see a comparison of present dependence on nuclear energy.

Graph 1: U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission. Graph 2: International Atomic Energy Association

Chernobyl – the unmitigated disaster

The Lord Voldemort of nuclear accidents started on April 26, 1986, when Chernobyl reactor #4 exploded, burned and melted down in a spectacular fire that spewed an estimated 50 tons of radioactive fuel over a swath of Eastern Europe. Unlike TMI (and the imperiled Japanese reactors) Chernobyl had no vessel to contain its fuel, and a giant fire – consuming the estimated 800 tons of graphite used to slow neutrons in the reactor — burned for more than a week as brave crews tried to damp it with sand, boron and lead.

Chernobyl was located in a part of the Soviet Union that is now in Ukraine.

The meltdown produced some of the worst radiation injuries in history, and hundreds of thousands were force-evacuated from an “exclusion zone” — roughly 30 kilometers in radius — around the smoking, radioactive hulk of #4.

Within months, the cooling reactor was hastily wrapped in a giant concrete “sarcophagus” (stone coffin) to contain further radiation. But the sarcophagus is leaking, says Leon West, a professor of mechanical engineering at the University of Arkansas, who has 40 years of experience in nuclear physics, radiation protection and nuclear engineering. “Chernobyl is still open and is still a threat to the local environment.”
“Construction has already begun on the New Safe Confinement,” says photographer Michael Foster Rothbart, who lived 12 miles from the exclusion zone between 2007 and 2009, “and although it keeps falling behind schedule, target finish date is 2013.”

Japan: Facing Three Mile Island or Chernobyl?

By March 21, 10 days after the tsunami, the owners of the Fukushima power plant reported that it had reconnected electric power to all six reactors. The disaster seems headed toward resolution, says Jeff Geuther, who manages a research reactor at Kansas State University. “My understanding is that the fuel [in the three recently operating reactors and the three spent-fuel pools at other reactors] is all under water. The radiation dose has been falling at the plant, an indication that water level has increased in the spent fuel pools.”

Although it’s not clear how much fuel has melted, Geuther says, “It’s fairly clear that the cladding [a thin sheathing on the fuel rods], at a minimum, had some damage. Iodine and cesium have been detected offsite; these are fission products that would be typically be trapped inside the cladding.”

By March 23, the utility reported that the lights were on in the control room of reactor #3, but work had not yet begun on monitoring equipment and reactor cooling pumps in the three reactors that were operating before the quake. By March 24, smoke was rising from several reactors, three plant employees were being treated for radiation exposure, and the zone of concern about radiation in drinking water had been expanded. The local populace remains under evacuation.

Near-term progress in stabilizing the Fukushima plant will be measured by

A near miss?

Two positive factors helped what looks like a near-miss at Fukushima. First, those reactors (unlike Chernobyl) had thick steel containment vessels, which, despite some reports of damage, seemed to hold up reasonably well.

Second, also unlike Chernobyl, Fukushima used water, not combustible graphite, to slow neutrons.

On the other hand, Fukushima faced systemic difficulties due to the precipitating natural disasters: After the epochal earthquake-towering tsunami sequence shut the reactors down, the electric grid died, killing the emergency cooling pumps.

Then the emergency diesel generators failed, and without cooling, the reactors quickly overheated. But with roads out and the nation tending to survivors and victims of the tsunami, the nuclear emergency festered for days, through a series of explosions, fires, bursts of radiation, and evacuations of plant workers.

At one point, just 50 workers were on hand to deal with multiple emergencies at several reactors and pools of spent fuel. The desperation was on display when helicopters tried to dump buckets of water into the fuel pools and fire trucks sprayed cooling water through explosion-blasted walls.

How many broken reactors?

Despite early fears that Fukushima was mimicking Chernobyl, it seems rather to be headed toward the less malignant TMI precedent, says West. “A big leak [like Fukushima] is not like the open-air nuclear bonfire of Chernobyl that spewed radioactive materials into the upper atmosphere. The extent of the release of radiation and the continuing difficulties with cooling of reactors and spent fuel has clearly put the Daiichi site at the TMI stage.”

As radioactive particles cross the Pacific on the jet streams, “California, Oregon, and Washington should start reporting measurable traces of radioactive materials in air samples,” says West, “but for the United States, this should be more like a Chinese test of a nuclear weapon and of no health consequence.”

Radiation has already been detected on milk and green vegetables near the reactor, and now in drinking water in Tokyo. “The Japanese will need to monitor and control agriculture products to minimize the risk to public health,” says West. “This will be similar to efforts in the United States during the 1950′s, when the U.S. was detonating nuclear weapons in Nevada,” and farmers were prohibited from selling milk for four days afterwards.

Japanese meltdowns, American reverbs

As Japan evacuated neighbors from the Fukushima plant, the U.S. Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC) advised American citizens in Japan to move at least 50 miles away. That’s much further than specified American evacuation plans, notes Vicki Bier, a professor of industrial engineering at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. “If the NRC is concerned up to 50 miles in Japan, that certainly calls into question emergency planning here, which is limited to 10 miles.”

On March 16, California Senators Barbara Boxer and Dianne Feinstein asked the NRC to review safety at two California plants located near earthquake faults. “Roughly 424,000 live within 50 miles of the Diablo Canyon and 7.4 million live within 50 miles of San Onofre Nuclear Generating Station,” the senators wrote.

And on Mar. 22, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission agreed to accelerate a safety review at Indian Point, a pair of reactors 30 miles from Manhattan.

Japan: How prepared, in reality?

How did such severe nuclear troubles arise in Japan, where “tsunami” was coined, and which is the world’s leader in earthquake engineering and disaster preparedness?

For starters, the tsunami was much bigger than expected. But we’ve also learned from the Associated Press (on March 24) that Japanese preparations focused on natural disasters.

Was the nuclear emergency made worse because six reactors were at one location? As we saw, radiation vented from one reactor caused the flight of workers trying to tame other reactors. But multiple siting had “always been considered to be a really good idea,” says West. “You have a collection of focused professionals with lots of resources [for example, to fight fires], so if one reactor has difficulties, you could take those excess resources and focus on that situation. … This is the first situation, where [multiple sitings] appears to need to be reexamined.”

Early reports point to a critical design failure at Fukushima, says Bier, an expert on risk assessment at nuclear plants. “They were designing for earthquake and tsunami, but not for this level of damage; you’ve got to give engineers some criteria; they can’t design for anything. They could have designed for what did happen, but they apparently decided it was too unlikely.”

Design: Where are the goalposts?

A specific weakness concerned the emergency diesel generators needed to run the pumps, which apparently were swamped by the tsunami, says Bier. “There is a lot we won’t know for months, but there is reasonable speculation about things that could be done differently at modest cost. You can’t prepare for every eventuality, but probably it would have been possible to get better protection for the diesels in a bunker or on higher ground.”

The systematic disruption and near chaos interfered with tasks like avoiding melt-downs in the pools holding spent fuel, which lack the containment usually found on reactors. As Fukushima proved, accidents can be made worse as effects are compounded: the real-life scenario included a combination of a Japan-record earthquake, massive tsunami damage, regional blackouts and radiation releases.

“The surrounding area was so damaged by earthquake and tsunami that it impeded the emergency response,” says Bier. “We have seen stories about people within the evacuation zone who could not evacuate because the roads are impassable or buildings have collapsed, and they were not sending in rescue teams because the radiation was too high. Certainly it was not anticipated that the damage would be this severe, or the radiation would be too severe to evacuate.”

 

Photo: Japan Red Cross Society

Thousands of Japanese have been evacuated from around the Fukushima Daiichi reactors; masks retard the spread of disease in close quarters. Few experts expect the need for a permanent exclusion zone, like the one in Chernobyl, around Fukushima.

Fukushima: End game

Will the six reactors at Fukushima Daiichi be dismantled, like TMI #2, or wind up inside a Chernobyl-style concrete coffin?

The three reactors that got emergency cooling with sea water are likely finished due to corrosion, not to mention possible explosion damage. “Salt water is a killer,” says Robert Rosner, professor of astronomy, astrophysics and physics at the University of Chicago. Rosner expects these reactors to be taken apart and trucked to long-term storage.

Although the age of the reactors – about 40 years – militates against spending large sums on refurbishment and updating, Japan now faces an electricity shortage, so Rosner expects one or two of the plants to return to service, at least for a while.

West, however, suggests that at least one reactor may wind up encased in concrete. “If I were an engineering manager, I would be looking at the possibility of stabilizing it to deal with all the issues” and then build an outer containment to isolate the reactor but allow service visits.

Credibility at stake

Assessing the long-term impact of Fukushima requires us to look at the technology’s unique place in the popular eye. Whether the nuclear industry likes it or not, nuclear carries plenty of emotional baggage. Nuclear physics produced the mushroom clouds over Hiroshima and Nagasaki long before it was used to make electricity. And because ionizing radiation is invisible, it’s a case where what you don’t know can hurt you.

Nuclear energy also arouses fear because power-plant neighbors cannot control it, says Nathan Hultman, an assistant professor of public policy at the University of Maryland. “A lot of research has looked at why people view risks differently, and both dread and the degree of control in nuclear are nerves that are touched very strongly. We feel safer driving cars than in an airplane, even though statistically, airplanes are much safer, because we feel in control in a car.”

 

Photos: TMI, Cherobyl:Wanrouter.

While TMI today shows the scars of its accident (reactor #2 on left melted down in 1979), Chernobyl’s gravesite (rollover) evokes a much bleaker history and deeper wounds. The thrown-together concrete enclosure may need to be replaced – a hazardous, expensive task.

The Japanese nuclear industry also faces credibility problems, Hultman notes.

“Small nuclear accidents were covered up,” says Hultman. “Often the initial reaction was ‘Everything is just fine, the situation is normal,’ then it came out there was a deeper problem. Now we are in a situation where very bad things are happening, and people are not sure what to believe.”

Hultman adds that these issues are a likely fixture in the coming debate over nuclear power. “Nuclear is not the only way to boil water to generate electricity,” he says, and the discussion of energy sources must be broader than that. “Rather than say, ‘We must have nuclear,’ we need to talk about alternatives as well.”

The Fukushima debacle could further polarize a nuclear debate that was altered by both TMI and Chernobyl, says Hultman. “There is almost a religious division. People who believe it’s good think it will be the answer to all our problems, and people who don’t like it, really really don’t like it.”

An omen for the future?

The Fukushima disaster carries striking ironies. Japan was the only country at the receiving end of atomic bombs, and studies of survivors at Hiroshima and Nagasaki have been the basis for understanding the health effects of low-level radiation.

Historically, the Fukushima disaster occurred as nuclear was gaining so much traction as a low-carbon solution to global warming that some prominent environmentalists had begun to talk nuclear. “This is going to have a big effect on the rebound toward nuclear,” says West, who adds, “We just can’t burn our forests — and coal is an old forest — forever,” due to global warming.

Even technological disasters that loom large in the short run may eventually be seen as lessons, West says. “The crash of a major aircraft … does not mean that air travel should end, it means we need to tighten up our design.”

Rosner, however, suggests that nuclear, with its potential for widespread, long-term contamination, needs to live by different rules. “When you are engineering something where the consequences, if something goes wrong, are devastating, even though the probability is very small, you need to engineer to avoid the devastation. We’ve known how to do that for 50 years, but it was always just a bit too expensive on the front end, so the decision was made: The probability is so low, we are not going to worry about it.”

When Deepwater Horizon blew up and melted down in April, the wound it tore in the Earth’s crust released a gusher of crude oil, estimated at 4.2 million barrels, into the Gulf of Mexico.

The massive microbial munching of methane during the BP spill may be the only good news from the Deepwater Horizon disaster.

The blowout also released about 160,000 tons of methane. If you counted molecules in BP’s blowout, methane (CH₄), the simple hydrocarbon that fuels stoves, furnaces and electric generators, was the single most abundant one.

But a report published in today’s Science shows that BP’s methane was totally devoured by microbes in the Gulf of Mexico, leaving less than .01 percent of the methane to enter the atmosphere. “We measured the sea-to-air flux of methane and found it was completely negligible,” says first author John Kessler, an assistant professor of oceanography at Texas A&M University.

Within four months of the April 20, 2010, blowout, a population explosion among methane-eating bacteria native to the Gulf decomposed virtually all of the methane, mainly in deep water, says Kessler.

Study author John Kessler extracts a water sample from a device that detects changes in water conductivity and temperature with depth.
NOAA Pisces.

The study offered three lines of evidence that bacteria were “eating” the released methane:

• Methane levels in the Gulf fell up to 10,000 times between June and October.
• Methane-munching microorganisms became extremely abundant downstream of the blowout. “Over the summer, the methane degraders were higher than we have ever seen at any other place in the world,” says Kessler.
• Dissolved oxygen in the water dropped as methane and oxygen reacted to form carbon dioxide and water, Kessler says. “Once we summed up all the lost oxygen in the area of the methane plume, we saw that it could only be explained by a complete [microbial] consumption of this methane.”

Although oxygen depletion is already a concern in the Gulf’s “Dead Zone,” the average loss was only 3 percent, Kessler says.

In a previous study, ethane and propane, two other natural gases that BP also released, decomposed even faster than methane, and were no higher than background levels by early fall. In both studies, Kessler collaborated with David Valentine of the University of California at Santa Barbara.

Cool news for your atmosphere

In the short term, spilled methane is less environmentally dangerous than crude oil, but it can pose a global warming problem in the long term, since a molecule of methane stores much more heat than a molecule of carbon dioxide.
Methane seeps are frequently found at ocean floors, where methane from decomposition enters the ocean. And unfathomable quantities of frozen methane are stored beneath the seabed.

So inquiring minds want to know: If and when this methane enters the ocean, could it reach the atmosphere and accelerate global warming?

Pisces, a research ship of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, was a floating laboratory to study Deepwater Horizon's aftershocks.
Photo: John D. Kessler/TAMU

The giant Deepwater spill contained too little methane to affect atmospheric levels, says Kessler, “but it does simulate a very energetic release from a seep or a methane hydrate, and so we were interested in using it as an analog for understanding how a massive submarine release of methane might behave.”

Although the microbes-eat-methane story provides a rare bright spot in BP’s ecological disaster, it’s not clear what would happen in shallow water, and in places lacking natural methane and a ready supply of methane eaters.

“The Gulf of Mexico has many natural methane seeps,” says Kessler, “that probably account for why Gulf waters are populated with these microorganisms, which are ready to degrade methane once there is a massive restocking of their ‘buffet.’ How this may play out at another place, without the natural seeps, I’m not sure.”

Within four months, bacteria had spawned enough offspring to devour essentially all of the added methane in the Gulf. “But if the bacteria are at lower abundance, would this take five months or two years? We don’t know.”

– David J. Tenenbaum

From French bread to non-fossil fuel?

Yeast can ferment corn starch into ethanol to be added to gasoline, but that diverts millions of tons of food from hungry people. Researchers are trying to ferment many other plant carbohydrates, especially cellulose, the tough chain-like molecule that stiffens the cell wall so plants can stand by themselves.

Unfortunately, the yeasts used to make ethanol have no taste for cellulose.

In this week’s Science, Jamie Cate, in the department of molecular and cell biology at the University of California at Berkeley, reports a transfer of two genes from a fungus to ethanol-making yeast. Although the fungus was discovered on French bread in the 1840s, the result was not exactly a fine Burgundy, or even a gallon of cheap jug wine, but it was a proof of principle that a single organism could, almost single-yeastedly, convert cellulose into ethanol.

Mon dieu!

The advance may hasten the day when waste wood, crop residues and fast-growing crops such as switchgrass can replace edible crops like corn and sugar cane in producing fuel.

Raise a glass to success!

“It’s a proof of principle using lab strains,” says Cate.

The genetic transfer enabled a single strain of yeast to convert cellulose in plant cell walls into ethanol. After commercial enzymes busted the cellulose into short chains of glucose units, the yeast:

The short chains of glucose that the Neurospora crassa fungus extracts from cellulose do not normally enter the yeast cell, but the transporters ensure that they will enter the transformed yeast, enabling the yeast to make ethanol from normally indigestible compounds.

Taking lessons from fungi

The research began with a basic question. A large portion of plant biomass is cellulose, and “microorganisms in the wild live on plants; they obviously have figured out how to degrade plants as food,” says Cate. “Plants have been figuring out ways to prevent microbes from doing this, so there’s this ongoing battle, and we knew some fungi would be very good at decomposing cellulose.”

Cate focused on N. crassa, a well-studied fungus that lives in burned-over areas, but also has a taste for a stale baguette. The research team moved two genes from the fungus into Saccharomyces cerevisiae, a yeast widely used to ferment sugar into ethanol.

One gene forms structures in the yeast’s cell wall that draw short chains of glucose into the cell. The second gene makes beta-glucosidase, an enzyme that the fungus (and now the yeast) use inside the cell to snip the short chains of glucose into individual glucose molecules, where the yeast converts them into ethanol.

Raise a glass to success!

Although the short chains of glucose that the fungus extracts from cellulose is not digestible to normal yeast, the transformed yeast used these short chains to produce an abundance of ethanol. “It’s a proof of principle using lab strains,” says Cate. “We in the Energy Bioscience Institute [a collaboration of UC-Berkeley, the University of Illinois, Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory and BP] have colleagues who are helping us look at some really robust, industrial yeasts to see how the transporters work in those systems.”

Cate says transporters are key. “Any cell is a fortress, with a membrane or a cell wall that keeps things out to protect its innards. To get a small molecule in or out, there has to be a way, and these are the transporters, which live in the cell membrane, with parts on the outside and parts on the inside.”

The study was “a pretty slick example of how genomic technology can rapidly get you to the gene you care about,” says Steven Slater, associate director of the Great Lakes Bioenergy Research Center. “They used a combination of published literature on genes that are differentially expressed when several fungi are exposed to cellulose, and were able to rapidly go from there down to something that looks like transporter.”

Training a workhorse

The key, Slater says, is that “they took a workhorse organism that is primarily used for the production of ethanol and gave it a new genetic tool that could be used to get things other than glucose inside the cell; that’s important for producing ethanol from cellulosic biomass.”

Indeed, Cate says, many organisms have ways to transport fragments of cellulose: “You can find these all over in nature, including in the black truffle, a fungal delicacy that grows symbiotically on oak trees.”

Cate expects further progress. “We in the Energy Bioscience Institute [a collaboration of UC-Berkeley, the University of Illinois, Lawrence Berkeley Laboratory and BP] are testing some really robust, industrial yeasts.”

This process may not be limited to ethanol, Cate says. “It’s modular, and it may benefit research groups that have been working on yeast to make all sorts of interesting biofuels: alcohols, or things like diesel or jet fuel.”

David J. Tenenbaum