Sunk Costs – More About Nuclear Power

Edit: It occurs to me that I neglected to mention that I used to work in the nuclear field. Just in case that might be relevant to whether you are going to write me off as a crank, or something. Not that I’m not cranky. But I’m an informed crank.

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Also known as, “Throwing Good Money After Bad”

Also known as, “Why we can’t get off fossil fuels”

Also known as, “The Biggest Problem with Nuclear Power”

The biggest problem with nuclear power isn’t the possibility of meltdown and fallout, although that is a problem worth considering and worrying about. Nor is the biggest problem with nuclear power the spent fuel, which concentrates a nasty mixture of incredibly toxic materials in a small space, requiring thousands of years of containment and protection, both from the nefarious and the naive. Nor is it the fact that nuclear power is not carbon-neutral, having fairly intense inputs of non-electric power at the construction, mining, transport, and decommission stages. The worst part about nuclear power isn’t even the fact that uranium is an extraordinarily non-renewable resource, subject to depletion in a matter of 10s to 100s of years (depending on which projections bear out).

The biggest problem with nuclear power is the future reality of the sunk costs that will go into this system, keeping us, once again, from doing the right thing until no other options are available. A switch to sustainable power is inevitable, as in… unavoidable, as in… we’re going to have to do it eventually, as in… we are going to run out of non-sustainable things to deplete… deep breath!

Right this moment, we have the potential to use the tail end of this cheap concentrated form of fuel to carry us over the hump to a new strategy for meeting our needs. But instead of taking advantage of forward thinking, looking at this as an opportunity to make substantial change, we are dragging our heels, clinging to the vestiges of existing power structures, and remaining tied up in existing infrastructure.

Let me be very clear in my language here. When I say that something is unsustainable, I do not mean that it isn’t nice, or kind, or morally defensible. I mean that there is a limiting factor that must necessarily lead to an end, either because we will run out of the resource, or because it leads to a society that tends to cause revolutions, or because it leads to an environmental system that is incompatible with life. You can only pour so many toxins into a pond before the fish start to die. You can only catch so many fish before the population collapses. You can only make a field so large before the bees can’t find their way to the middle of it. You can only pull so much of an element out of the ground before no more remains. There are real, concrete, physical constraints on systems. Technologies allow us to do end-runs around the constraints, increasing our catches (for example) even as the fish population is depleting to the point of collapse, but in the end this cleverness is our undoing. We have bought into the very seductive claims of hardcore economics, that the price of a resource (what it trades for on the market) in some way reflects how much remains. No, no. The “price” of a resource in our economic system primarily reflects the sophistication of our extraction methods, the demand, and how well we have concentrated the power to externalize costs. The price does not accurately reflect the cost, and the cost is where those constraints are hidden.

That, however, is a problem for another day.

What the price does reflect is the costs that companies have not managed to externalize. These can be broadly divided into operating expenses and capital. (As in Capital-ism… as in the ones with the capital have the power…) I don’t think that I will be surprising anybody by pointing out that the voices most vehemently opposed to doing anything to transition away from fossil fuels are those with the most capital invested in them. In the face of overwhelming scientific evidence that fossil fuels are a) jeopardizing the ability of the planet to regulate its climate systems, b) possibly endangering the future of human civilization, and c) probably running out, the fossil fuel industry has mounted the most astonishing campaign of disinformation conceivable. Why? Because it needs to recoup the costs of the capital it has already invested. Those costs are sunk. They are unrecoverable without continuing down the path that was projected for them. We’ve already invested billions of dollars in coal mines, coal plants, and the towns that are dependent on those for their survival. We cannot stop mining coal; in fact we will pursue more aggressive techniques, like blowing tops off entire mountains. We cannot stop drilling for natural gas; we have entire cities hooked up for it. So we will inject high pressure water into shale formations, effectively removing the water from the water cycle, releasing methane, and potentially poisoning the surrounding water supply. And we cannot get off oil, because our entire transportation, food, and technology sectors depend on it, so we will mine more and more difficult sources, spend more and more on the military “protection” of oil rich land, and drill deeper and deeper, regardless of the risks.

This is the nature of sunk costs. It is a cycle of dependency that exceeds the worst nightmare stories of “The Right”, because it is not one (vilified, disenfranchised, gendered, racialized, easily attacked) group of people-over-there. It is all of us, our entire culture, our entire society, our entire world, constrained to worse and worse future choices by those of the past.

What it means for nuclear power is this: The IAEA report in 2000 was asked to project the world supply of Uranium to 2050. Under a number of different scenarios, they considered at what point it would become economic to mine various sources. The possibility that they should not mine particular locations is never discussed. Once we build the plants, we are committed to continue to supply them until all the uranium is gone. That is why they are already considering mining uranium in the Grand Canyon.

So. While I have chapters in the works on all of those issues I mentioned in the first paragraph, what I really want to ask of fellow environmentalists is this: Do we really want to go down this path? We’ve done it once already, and we know where it ends. Disruption, pollution, toxic waste sites, social upheaval, company towns, strip mining, budget overruns, unanticipated retrofit expenses, and above all, the inability to step off the path once we are fully committed.

And that, my friends, is the biggest risk of nuclear power.

The Economics of the Laundry Line

If you are a dedicated environmentalist, but you still find yourself buying back your own time by using convenience foods and labour-saving devices, this is an article for you. I find myself making these choices almost every day: I currently have a frozen lasagna in the oven so that I can have back the 2 hours of not-cooking for writing and a swimming lesson. (A swimming lesson for me, not my children!) I also have a soup stock on the back burner, and a homemade squash and sweet potato soup waiting for the stock, so I’m not a purist either way. It’s a calculus of convenience. Today, the question is, “Is it worth it to hang out that load of laundry?”

I hear “saving money” as an argument for hanging out the clothes, but I don’t think that it is particularly convincing. Even if I hung a load every day, it would only save me about $240 over the course of the year. It would take me about 120 hours to save that money, working out to approximately $2 an hour. “Oho!” you may say, “But if you were completely faithful, you could give up the dryer entirely, and subtract that expense from your savings!” I know people who do that, even around here. So let us subtract the dryer as well… After my old cheap dryer destroyed about $400 worth of clothes by burning them, I decided to go for a fancy-schmancy set, so we can knock off $800 for the dryer. Spread that over 10 years, and add in a couple of hundred dollars for repairs. Now we can claim an extra $100 a year, bringing our hourly rate for hanging laundry to $2.67. This is after tax money, so it is the equivalent of “earning” about $4 an hour. It’s not completely ridiculous, since I do lots of other things “for free”, but it would make more economic sense to just ante up for the electricity and spend that time “making money”.

What is worse, I can only hang things out for fewer than half the days in the year… which means that one of the rooms inside my house would have to be converted to laundry hanging, since laundry is a daily task around here. I’m not even going to bother with the economics of adding in part of the house as an expense, because that just gets ridiculous. Suffice it to say, I don’t save enough money by hanging out my laundry for that to be the primary justification: I am doing this to give back to the earth, and I happen to enjoy hanging laundry, but the way things are currently priced makes it one of those tasks that I doubt, especially when my fingers go numb from the cold. I’m trying to find scalable solutions… that is, if something is actually the right thing to do, I’d like other people to do it too.

If the “saving money” argument is not going to convince most people, let me try the “saving carbon” argument instead. I hear that I generate an extra 1.7 kg of CO2 every time I run the dryer. At my house (where we share the laundry facilities with the family who lives next door) we are doing laundry for 9, which means at least one load every day. Let’s say 1-1/2 loads per day. If we could dry all of them on the line (which we can’t), we would save 930 kg of CO2 emissions in a year. My own calculations are a little different: The dryer is 5400 watts, and runs for just under an hour, using approximately 5.1 kWh. Since our electricity in NS is essentially coal, we generate close to a kg of CO2 for each kWh, or something like… 2800 kg per year. I don’t even know how to begin to figure out emissions made on behalf of the neighbours, so lets just discount those and say that my family’s emissions could be reduced by 2 tonnes just by hanging out the clothes. That’s not nothing. In fact, it’s something like 1/6 th of our total household power consumption, and we heat with electricity. That is starting to sound convincing.

And then, after I write a post about hanging out the laundry, I come home and see this:

Sigh.

On the plus side, the line was back up within 20 minutes. Nobody had to call a repair guy, and the only spare part we needed was a piece of rope from the garage.


BTW, the SolarPowered tag is an indication that the post was written on a laptop powered by the sun, not that the post itself is about solar power.

Local Buying

I have been lying awake trying to solve the economic problems of the island I live on in my head. I did this all day also. This is not a new activity; I grew up in Newfoundland. I spent rather a lot of my youth on this issue.

Here’s the problem in a nutshell: Every dollar that we spend importing things needs to come from somewhere off the island. All three major industries of the area have closed down over the last 30 years, leaving call-centres and tourism as the only real sources of revenue. (The call centres are starting to close as well.) We have an abundance of land, water, wind, a deep harbour, forests, and a fair amount of skilled labour (from the previous industries). And we don’t seem to be able to get anything started. Half the people I know with university degrees (including graduate degrees) are doing volunteer work, farming, manual labour, or staying home with the kids because there’s nothing else for them to do. The major issue that faces the area is outmigration, particularly among the young, and particularly among the young and educated.

It’s so, so, so hard to say to people that are trying to just make a go of it… “Actually, part of the reason that there is no work here and your children are leaving is that you are shopping at Walmart/SuperStore/Home Depot.” It’s so, so, so hard to get anybody to listen to that. If you used to have forestry products made at home, and you start buying all your forestry products from off shore, the people who used to make them have to go somewhere else now. Contrary to what the economics textbooks tell you, they don’t just stay and think of something new to do. (They try, they really do. I’ve seen SO many retraining programs and make-work projects. I see so many people just scraping by, hoping that things will get better.) They also don’t go off to bigger and better things. These are not people that were yearning to get away; they left because they had to. We lose our community, our family connections, our sense of history, and our sense of place when we leave because we have no choice.

This isn’t a purely economic question; this is about community and connection. This is about our buying choices. But we need to look at the thing in our hand, and see the tendrils of connection that come off it, joining us to the people that handled it before us. Their life force connects to our own through the exchange. And maybe if we start to reconnect with those people, we can start making sure that some of them are people that we have looked in the eye.

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