Commentary: Environmentalists need stronger arguments, more solutions
This was originally published in the July 14 print edition of the Midland Reporter-Telegram.
It's not too often I go to the Midland County Courthouse and have a dog in the fight. It should be that way most days as a reporter. But this time, I'm passionate enough about the issue I'm willing to reveal myself as the environmentalist I am.
Just over a month ago, I wrote about what will be one of the nation's largest solar farms — more than 4,600 acres — entering Andrews County. I danced a little on the inside. But then, on Wednesday and Thursday, I sat for nearly 10 hours among many environmental groups and individuals in opposition to the proposed nuclear waste storage in Andrews County. Today, I am not dancing.
It isn't only because high-level nuclear waste storage could enter a county 40 miles away, but also because the people I side with, environmentalists, have offered zero solutions to what they are fighting against — and this is largely why most of our arguments are immediately rejected.
After reading story after story — in Texas Monthly, Texas Tribune, Dallas Morning News and other credible media sources— sitting in the two-day hearing and talking to dozens of individuals, these were my takeaways.
Nuclear waste storage is not as bad as it sounds.
There are a few ways nuclear waste can be stored, according to the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. First, it can be placed in a horizontal cylinder in an underground bank. Second, it can be placed in a vertical cylinder, underground, in an 8-inch-thick concrete container — like in the low-level waste dump in Andrews County. And third, in a vertical cylinder on surface about 20 feet high, which is the proposed option for the high-level waste dump in Andrews.
Each type of storage encloses the waste in a ventilated module made of concrete and steel — which the NRC said is "robust" and "provides full shielding." The waste would not be liquid, but a complete solid material of nuclear waste that the NRC said cannot catch fire, explode or spill once placed.
In Andrews, beneath the facility, there would also be about 600 feet of red bed clay, which was said to be about approximately 10 times less permeable than concrete.
Additionally, the low-level waste dump helped Andrews when the Permian Basin experienced its most recent oil downtown. Because Waste Control Specialists (now Interim Storage Partners) brought a more diverse group of employers to the community, Andrews survived the downturn better than surrounding areas, according to a previous Reporter-Telegram story.
And it, again, would supply more jobs and improve the economy there.
But it isn't too great either, and it doesn't belong in Andrews County.
Environmentalists argue the containers are combustible, can catch fire and can explode. They say an explosion would affect everyone in a 50-mile radius. But because both sides are saying different things, it's unclear who to believe, so I'm going to let everyone pick their side and move on.
Both sides, however, do say the containers have the potential to leak. This could be problematic.
It's also a long-term endeavor. Placing the waste in Andrews County would be a 60-year temporary solution to a thousand-year problem, requiring a new solution to be proposed down the road.
This means the shipments of high-level nuclear waste will be transported across the state and nation — through Midland County — two separates times: once now and once later. It also means community members and organizations who cared so dearly of this now may become complacent to the idea of nuclear waste being in their hometown, and instead, it could become the permanent solution.
Andrews County is too valuable for that.
It sits right on top of the Ogallala Aquifer — the second-largest aquifer in the world — and many other small sources of water. It doesn't seem reasonable to put the nation's largest source of water at even the smallest potential risk of being contaminated by a nuclear waste leak.
It is also home to nearly 40 rare, threatened or endangered species, including the Texas horned lizard, dunes sagebrush lizard, lesser prairie chicken and kit fox. Losing any one of these species could alter the entire ecosystem in West Texas.
Andrews is also diverse in its economy with agriculture, clean energy and oil and gas; a leak could put the production of any of these industries at stake.
West Texas is among the world's largest oil and gas producers. Our economy, the U.S. economy and the world's economy thrive on this production — and again, potentially putting this industry at even the smallest risk does not seem ideal for the community.
Lastly, there are several airports located around the area in Hobbs, Midland and Odessa, which should be the most-obvious reason why nuclear waste should not be placed in Andrews County. This puts the storage at chance for interference, whether intentional or unintentional, tampering and terroristic threat.
But there is no good solution.
I grew up in Tarrant and Parker counties with only one county separating me from the Comanche Peak Power Plant in Glen Rose, so I've known nothing else. I remember being scared most of my childhood that it would leak and affect my family in Weather. I admit I was a tad dramatic. Still, my stepsister works there as a security guard, and I've decided most things that require 24-hour security are probably not safe for the public.
Nuclear waste does still exist though — and it must be stored somewhere.
The original plan was to store it in Nevada's Yucca Mountain. It still requires transportation of high-level radioactive waste, but it would be a permanent solution, so it would have been transported only once. Both environmentalists and ISP representatives agreed that was a good plan. Nevada's congressional members didn't.
Others said Washington, D.C., had the most-ideal geological location for the nuclear waste. There's a clear reason this should not even be considered. After that, I heard no other city or county mentioned as a solution; the ocean was, but that isn't a viable option for people like me.
So, instead, I researched the most creative, noninvasive possibility I could think of: an inactive volcano. I found a few things on the Popular Science website – which also publishes a national magazine with popular science content.
I learned volcanos are not hot enough to split uranium's nuclei to make the radioactivity inert. The waste would never sink in the lava; it would remain on top until the volcano finally erupted. That's creating a completely different issue.
I also learned an atomic bomb, however, would do the trick because of the thermonuclear reaction it would create — though that doesn't seem like a great way to dispose of nuclear waste, and again, would create a completely different issue.
I mentioned these findings to representatives from each group at the hearing. A few already knew these facts, but some hadn't. Some discussed other unique alternatives.
For instance, there was also a proposed solution of shipping it off to the sun. No one has ever traveled to the sun to know how close we could get to it with nuclear waste on board. Additionally, it would, not only, be expensive and require a lot of energy, but the rocket could explode, and the nuclear waste would come right back down to Earth and remain in the atmosphere long-term.
I would not choose any of these outside-of-the-box solutions. But there's also not a city or county with people I would prefer to be at risk if any type of reaction did happen.
And until those opposed, including myself, can come up with a safe solution, I think Andrews County is as good a place as any other.
Photo is provided by Unsplash through SquareSpace.