I work for an interesting department

I know this because every time I tweet about something interesting, I have to add another two tweets to cover my ass for possible conflicts of interest.

At least we won’t get goiters

A pretty good summary of the situation in Fukushima (I got this via Ben Poon on Facebook).

What in the hell is going on here?

In the aftermath of the recent earthquake and tsunami in Japan, two nuclear power stations on the east coast of Japan have been experiencing problems. They are the Fukushima Daiichi (“daiichi” means “number one”) and Fukushima Daini (“number two”) sites, operated by the Tokyo Electric Power Company (or TEPCO). Site one has six reactors, and site two has four. The problematic reactors have been #1 and #3 at site one, which are the oldest of the ten.

In short, the earthquake combined with the tsunami have impaired the cooling systems at these reactors, which has made it difficult for TEPCO to shut them down completely. Reactor #1 is now considered safe after crew flooded the reactor with sea water. Reactor #3 is undergoing this process as this is being written (6:00PM CST/11:00PM GST on March 13th).

Can this cause a nuclear explosion?

No. It is physically impossible for a nuclear power station to explode like a nuclear weapon.

Nuclear bombs work by causing a supercritical fission reaction in a very small space in an unbelievably small amount of time. They do this by using precisely-designed explosive charges to combine two subcritical masses of nuclear material so quickly that they bypass the critical stage and go directly to supercritical, and with enough force that the resulting supercritical mass cannot melt or blow itself apart before all of the material is fissioned.

Current nuclear power plants are designed around subcritical masses of radioactive material, which are manipulated into achieving sustained fission through the use of neutron moderators. The heat from this fission is used to convert water to steam, which drives electric generator turbines. (This is a drastic simplification.) They are not capable of achieving supercritical levels; the nuclear fuel would melt before this could occur, and a supercritical reaction is required for an explosion to occur.

Making a nuclear bomb is very difficult, and it is completely impossible for a nuclear reactor to accidentally become a bomb. Secondary systems can explode due to pressure problems, like cooling systems, but this is not a nuclear explosion.

Is this a meltdown?

Technically, yes, but not in the way that most people think.

The term “meltdown” is not used within the nuclear industry, because it is insufficiently specific. The popular image of a meltdown is when a nuclear reactor’s fuel core goes out of control and melts its way out of the containment facility. This has not happened and is unlikely to happen.

What has happened in reactor #1 and #3 is a “partial fuel melt”. This means that the fuel core has suffered damage from heat but is still largely intact. No fuel has escaped containment.

How did this happen? Aren’t there safety systems?

When the earthquakes in Japan occurred on March 11th, all ten reactor cores “scrammed”, which means that their control rods were inserted automatically. This shut down the active fission process, and the cores have remained shut down since then.

The problem is that even a scrammed reactor core generates “decay heat”, which requires cooling. When the tsunami arrived shortly after the earthquake, it damaged the external power generators that the sites used to power their cooling systems. This meant that while the cores were shut down, they were still boiling off the water used as coolant.

This caused two further problems. First, the steam caused pressure to build up within the containment vessel. Second, once the water level subsided, parts of the fuel rods were exposed to air, causing the heat to build up more quickly, leading to core damage from the heat.

What are they doing about it?

From the very beginning, TEPCO has had the option to flood the reactor chambers with sea water, which would end the problems immediately. Unfortunately, this also destroys the reactors permanently. Doing so would not only cost TEPCO (and Japanese taxpayers) billions of dollars, but it would make that reactor unavailable for generating electricity during a nationwide disaster. The sea water method is a “last resort” in this sense, but it has always been an option.

To avoid this, TEPCO first took steps to bring the cooling systems back online and to reduce the pressure on the inside of the containment vessel. This involved bringing in external portable generators, repairing damaged systems, and venting steam and gases from inside the containment vessel. These methods worked for reactor #2 at site one; reactors four through six were shut down before for inspection before the earthquake hit.

In the end, TEPCO decided to avoid further risk and flooded reactor #1 with sea water. It is now considered safely under control. Reactor #3 is undergoing this process.

Is a “China Syndrome” meltdown possible?

No, any fuel melt situation at Fukushima will be limited, because the fuel is physically incapable of having a runaway fission reaction. This is due to their light water reactor design.

In a light water reactor, water is used as both a coolant for the fuel core and as a “neutron moderator”. What a neutron moderator does is very technical, but in short, when the neutron moderator is removed, what happens to the fuel core depends on its design.

An LWR has a design with a “negative void coefficient”. This means that if the neutron moderator is removed, the fission reactor will slow and eventually stop. Some other reactor designs (such as the one at Chernobyl) have a “positive void coefficient”, which means that if the moderator is removed, the fission reaction speeds up and becomes self-sustaning.

An LWR design limits the damage caused by a meltdown, because if all of the coolant is boiled away, the fission reaction will not keep going, because the coolant is also the moderator. The core will then only generate decay heat, which while dangerous and strong enough to melt the core, is not nearly as dangerous as an active fission reaction.

The containment vessel at Fukushima may be strong enough to resist breaching even during a decay heat meltdown. If it is not, and the core melts its way through the bottom of the vessel, it will end up in a large concrete barrier below the reactor. It is very unlikely that a fuel melt caused by decay heat would penetrate this barrier. This results in a massive cleanup job but no leakage of nuclear material into the outside environment.

This is all moot, however, as flooding the reactor with sea water will prevent a fuel melt from progressing. TEPCO has already done this to reactor #1, and is in the process of doing it to #3. If any of the other reactors begin misbehaving, the sea water option will be available for those as well.

What was this about an explosion?

One of the byproducts of reactors like the ones at Fukushima is hydrogen. Normally this gas is vented and burned slowly. Due to the nature of the accident, the vented hydrogen gas was not properly burned as it was released. This led to a build up of hydrogen gas inside the reactor #1 building, but outside the containment vessel.

This gas ignited, causing the top of the largely cosmetic external shell to be blown off. This shell was made of sheet metal on a steel frame and did not require a great deal of force to be destroyed. The reactor itself was not damaged in this explosion, and there were only four minor injuries. This was a conventional chemical reaction and not a nuclear explosion.

You see what happened in the photo of the reactor. Note that other than losing the sheet metal covering on the top, the reactor building is intact. No containment breach has occurred.

Is there radiation leakage?

The radiation levels outside the plant are higher than usual due to the release of radioactive steam. These levels will go down and return to their normal levels, as no fuel has escaped containment.

For perspective, note that charts of radiation exposure start at 1 Sv; the radiation outside the problematic Fukushima reactors is being measured in micro-Svs per hour. The highest reported levels outside the Fukushima reactors has been around 1000 micro-Svs per hour. This means that one would have to stay in this area for four to six weeks, 24 hours a day, without protection in order to experience the lowest level of radiation poisoning, which while unpleasant is not normally fatal. And this level will not stay where it is.

There has also been very minor releases of radioactive reactor byproducts like cesium along with the steam. This material is less radioactive than the typical output of coal power plants. It is significant mainly as an indicator of the state of the reactor core.

What’s this about fuel rods being exposed to the air?

When the coolant levels inside the reactor get low enough, the tops of the fuel rods will be exposed to the air inside the containment vessel. They have not been exposed to the external atmosphere and the containment vessels are all intact.

Can this end up like Chernobyl?

No, it cannot. for several reasons.

  • Chernobyl was designed with a positive void coefficient. This means that when the neutron moderator was removed, the reaction got stronger. The Fukushima reactors have a negative void coefficient, which means that if you remove the neutron moderator, the reaction slows and eventually stops.
  • Chernobyl’s core was built on top of a tank of water. This was meant to cool the core if it melted through the containment vessel. Instead, it caused a tremendous steam explosion which tore the facility apart. The Fukushima reactors do not have this and will therefore not explode like that, even if the core melts through the containment vessel.
  • Chernobyl used graphite as a neutron moderator. Graphite is flammable, and when the reactor exploded, the radioactive graphite burned and ended up in the atmosphere. The Fukushima reactors use water as a neutron moderator, which is obviously not flammable.

The news said this was the worst nuclear power accident since Chernobyl, though.

It’s the only nuclear power accident since Chernobyl. It’s easy to be the worst in a sample size of one.

Is this like Three Mile Island?

There are similarities. The final effect on the world is likely to be similar: no deaths, minimal external contamination, and a tremendous PR disaster for the nuclear industry due to bad reporting by the media.

How can I keep up with developments?

The western media has been very bad about reporting this event, due to a combination of sensationalist reporting, ignorance, and the use of inexact or unexplained terminology.

One of the safe sources of information is the TEPCO site, which has been posting press releases on a regular basis. Unfortunately, this site is often unresponsive due to the immense traffic it is receiving.

The important thing to remember is that most of the “experts” appearing on the news are engaging in speculation. Very few of them are restricting themselves to what they can be sure about, and those that are have often been misrepresented.

I really want to put this out there, since apparently it’s kosher to actually compare things with Chernobyl now: it’s absurd. Not simply because of scale, but to characterize Chernobyl as an “accident” seems almost too easily dismissive of the deliberate decisions made by reactor operators that led to the disaster. It would not be totally overboard to say that people went out of their way to blow up the reactor at Chernobyl, a reactor that had design flaws that made it very easy to blow up.

Also, I wish that everyone that’s causing potassium iodide prices to go through the roof gets hypothyroidism.

White elephants and brow height

Quebec Conservative MPs wear Quebec Nordique jerseys during a caucus meeting in Quebec City on Wednesday, Sept. 8, 2010. The MPs wore the jerseys to support the construction of a new arena. A march will be held Oct. 2, 2010 in support for the return of the Nordiques.

They’re big, they cost an arm and a leg, and they pass out the same stuff. But apparently a white elephant’s value is determined in part by whether it’s fed arugula or ruffage:

If elected, a Liberal government would join the province and city in footing the building’s bill because it would be “a public space that promotes culture.” Similar funding would be available to public spaces in other regions of the country, he said.  A structure devoted to spreading the Roughrider culture in Regina, for example.

You can practically smell the sneering, can’t you? The obvious hierarchy that if it’s not a “museum, theatre or concert hall,” it’s not worthy to be mentioned in the same sentence as “culture.” We’ll just ignore the fact that one of this country’s most beloved piece of literature is about sports apparel, and the most compelling part of the Art Gallery of Ontario is its European collection.

And yet, what is the justification for funding a museum, arena, or whatever? In economics, we talk about “public goods,” which are generally defined as goods and services that are:

  • Non-excludable: there is no way for the good provider to select who may benefit from it. Nobody can stop me from breathing in the fresher air near a park.
  • Non-rival: one person’s consumption does not reduce any other person’s ability to consume the good. If I watch over-the-air television, it does not make it any harder for someone else to get an antenna and watch it too.
  • Jeff Ely would add non-avoidable. I can sail in Canadian waters without fear of pirates attacking (in part) because our navy patrols Canadian waters. Pirates would stay away even if I sign a waiver asking not to be rescued, because the navy would patrol for everyone else anyway.

When goods and services have these characteristics, the government can make the population better off by providing them. But on first inspection, sports and arts facilities don’t fit those criteria. ScotiaBank Place and the National Art Gallery do a good job making sure I have a ticket when I go inside, and once I’m on the other side, the building is certainly able to take in one less person. So the general argument moves on to things like less concrete spillovers, like that feel-good feeling one gets when Canada wins gold medals in the Olympics, even if one never pays a cent to supporting Canadian Olympic athletes.

Here is where the economics and the culture come together. A popular argument against funding arenas is that we take taxpayer money to pay for billionaires to build arenas where millionaires play sports. But, really, that shouldn’t matter at all, if there are still benefits to society that those billionaires and millionaires can’t find a way to capitalize upon (though my guess is, through their control of media distribution and merchandising, most of the gains from a sports team’s presence are internalized).

And what about that concert hall? Well, most of the benefits from having a symphony orchestra, or other “high-brow” art, go to those who directly patron the facility, who pay to go. Whatever good vibes the rest of us get, I would argue are felt by less of us than the vibes that we get from sports. Which means, I suppose, that advocates are saying that the public benefits that each beneficiary gets are somehow more, or better, than those from an arena. It’s not impossible: the art gallery and symphony orchestra may bring in the “creative class” that Richard Florida tells us is the future. But rest assured that it’s the kind of benefits felt by people who would roll their eyes at the “bread and circuses” culture of us unrefined folk.

Measure twice, Tweet once

As an Industry Canada employee, it’s a pretty obvious move to follow Minister Tony Clement. So when he tweets that he’ll be meeting Stephen Toope, president of my alma mater UBC, I fire off a post linking to a column on innovation that Toope co-wrote, which receives the following response:

Now, ministers are free to agree with whatever they want, and anyone can of course send a letter to the minister with their opinions, but as a public servant in the minister’s department, I think it’s wise to exercise some discretion. I was hired because, presumably, Industry Canada thinks I have something to offer: the last thing I want is pass on crappy ideas to influential people with my reputation on the line. I felt that Toope’s column is fairly general, there wasn’t much time to relay the information, and I posted it explicitly as someone else’s opinion. What I’m not in the business of doing is tweeting willy-nilly about Potash, TMX, or about Internet usage-based billing.

I also believe in basic accountability: I can always Direct Message or e-mail the Minister directly to send that column, but that would truly be going through the back door. If I’m going to take a shortcut, at the very least, everyone else should know about it.

The question of how government ministers should use Twitter is a (kind of) hot issue right now. Tweets may be short, but it doesn’t hurt to put some thought into what they mean.