Short History Of... - Fukushima Nuclear Disaster

Episode Date: September 24, 2023

In 2011, Japan was hit by the worst earthquake in the country’s history. Enormous tremors caused devastation all throughout Japan, and the tsunami that followed wreaked further havoc. But the damage didn’t end there. 200 km north of Tokyo, the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant was in danger. It had been so severely damaged that there were fears of a full-scale, global, nuclear melt-down…. But how close did the world really come to nuclear disaster? Whose brave actions ensured even greater devastation was avoided? And have the lessons of Fukushima been learned? This is a Short History Of the Fukushima Nuclear Disaster.  Written by Danny Marshall. With thanks to Dr Edwin Lyman, Director of Nuclear Power Safety at the Union of Concerned Scientists. For ad-free listening, exclusive content and early access to new episodes, join Noiser+. Now available for Apple and Android users. Click the Noiser+ banner on Apple or go to noiser.com/subscriptions to get started with a 7-day free trial. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Get groceries delivered across the GTA from Real Canadian Superstore with PC Express. Shop online for super prices and super savings. Try it today and get up to $75 in PC Optimum Points. Visit superstore.ca to get started. It is mid-afternoon on Friday, March the 11th, 2011. A tall man in his mid-fifties puts on a pair of glasses and looks out of his office window. His blue uniform marks him out as an employee of Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant. Masao Yoshida is the plant manager, and though he's been here less than a year,

he has a wealth of experience. His view from the window is dominated by four enormous structures towering above him. Blue windowless cubes, each one as large as an office block. They look like monolithic slabs from a science fiction film. Between them, they house four of the plant's six nuclear reactor vessels, distributing power all over northern Japan. six nuclear reactor vessels, distributing power all over northern Japan. Suddenly, Yoshida feels a trembling through the floor, and hears shouts from the office beyond his door. Through the windows, he can see workers running in the car park below. The tall electrical pylons connecting the station to the grid are swaying. The trembling increases. Objects begin to fall from the shelves.

Holding onto his desk to steady himself, Yoshida makes for the door until the ground drops beneath his feet. The office fills with the screams and shouts of his co-workers as a roar growls beneath them. The swaying turns into a rapid shaking, side to side, up and down, growing in intensity. There's no doubt in the workers' minds. This is an earthquake. They all fall to their knees, hands over their heads, as dust rains down. Filing cabinets topple, and beyond the shattered windows, the cars in the car park bounce up and down like toys. And now, a strip light explodes. Swinging from the ceiling, showering the room with shards of glass, the power snaps off. Everyone is shouting, but their cries are drowned out by the blaring of alarms and the thunder of the entire world moving in different directions.

After several minutes, the shaking subsides, and Yoshida and his co-workers creep tentatively from their hiding places. Yoshida's gaze is drawn towards the debris scattered around the foot of the nearest reactor building. He knows that in an earthquake, this is theoretically the safest place to be. These buildings have been designed with quakes in mind, and there are numerous backup systems. But he can't deny that this earthquake was a big one, possibly the biggest Japan's ever seen. Masao Yoshida doesn't yet know it, but the earthquake under Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant has just triggered the countdown to the worst nuclear disaster since Chernobyl in 1986. The tremor triggers a race against time.

Over 100,000 people are evacuated from a 230 square mile exclusion zone. But heroic workers stay behind and fight to contain what could become a national catastrophe. But how did the disaster unfold? And how was even greater devastation averted? Have the lessons of Fukushima been learned? Or do the inherent dangers of nuclear power and human shortcomings make it a ticking time bomb? I'm John Hopkins. From Noisa, this is a short history of the Fukushima disaster.

Today, nuclear power is a controversial topic. But this wasn't always the case. In fact, when physicists first discover nuclear fission in 1938, the result is an optimistic, excited rush to harness its power. All around the world, scientists begin researching ways to use this technology to generate cheap, reliable electricity even when it's destructive capabilities are demonstrated to horrifying effect with the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki at the end of World War two enthusiasm for a future

clean energy is barely dampened the atomic age has begun but how exactly does it work The atomic age has begun, but how exactly does it work? Dr. Edwin Lyman is a nuclear proliferation expert and director of nuclear power safety at the Union of Concerned Scientists. The main principle of nuclear power generation is that the uranium core of the reactor is arranged in a certain way so that it maintains a chain reaction of neutrons. So you can sustain the fission process, which is the splitting of uranium nuclei, which releases energy. The skill there is to make sure that that power level is steady by manipulating the rate of the chain reaction. The chain reaction produces immense heat,

boiling water into steam and driving turbines connected to generators, just like coal or oil-fired power stations. The key difference, though, is that operating a nuclear power station is relatively inexpensive. What's more, the fuel source is considered sustainable, as it produces no greenhouse gas emissions. In the summer of 1956, the world's first commercial nuclear power plant is connected to the National Grid in Windscale, England, a site now known as Sellafield.

It's met with great excitement, but isn't without its risks. The key to nuclear power safety is making sure that the nuclear fuel remains cool enough so that it does not overheat, because the decay heat is so intense that it can overwhelm the natural cooling of the fuel and bring it to a temperature where it can actually be damaged and start to release radioactive materials. When a fire breaks out inside Britain's wind-scale reactor, the impact is downplayed by the government. And by the late 1960s, scientists have begun to voice concerns about nuclear proliferation and the potential for further accidents.

But on the other side of the world, though it's the only country to have suffered the devastation of a nuclear attack, Japan welcomes the new technology with open arms. Construction on Fukushima Daiichi begins in July 1967. Sitting on the eastern coast, 140 miles northeast of Tokyo, it's the first nuclear facility run by TEPCO, the Tokyo Electric Power Company. Soon, its first reactor is generating electricity. east of tokyo it's the first nuclear facility run by tepco the tokyo electric power company soon its first reactor is generating electricity and by 1979 it boasts six reactors

that same year though the worst fears of anti-nuclear campaigners are realized in an incident over 6 000 miles away at the Three Mile Island plant in Pennsylvania. The Three Mile Island accident in the U.S. in 1979 was a partial core melt. They were able to stop the melting of the core when it was only about halfway through, so it never melted through the reactor vessel. Conventional assessments of three mile island were that it was stopped in time to prevent serious radiological contamination just seven years later a far worse nuclear accident occurs at the chernobyl power plant

in ukraine then part of the soviet union this time it's a full-blown catastrophe a power surge triggers a massive explosion blowing the roof of the building and tearing the reactor apart. Fire ravages the plant, and hundreds of radioactive chemicals are spewed into the atmosphere, 400 times that released by the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombs combined. Terrified workers and firefighters wage a week-long battle to bring the damaged plant under control. Meanwhile, radioactive fallout rains back to Earth across Europe, Asia, and North Africa. So exposure to ionizing radiation has two main effects. One is if you get a lot of exposure to radiation in a short period of time,

very high dose, then that can actually kill cells, can kill organ systems or dysfunction them and lead to severe illness and death. That's relatively unusual and fairly limited. What is more of a threat is low-level exposure to radiation. It's insidious because even at very low levels, ionizing radiation damages your DNA and can ultimately lead to cancer, and the risk is proportional to the dose. On the other side of the world, Japan remains largely unscathed. Japan remains largely unscathed However, erring on the side of caution, nuclear regulations are enhanced And some changes are made to the Fukushima Daiichi plant Over time, though, Japan and the rest of the world come to blame the Chernobyl disaster On poor engineering, lackluster safety measures, and Soviet reluctance to admit failings

Gradually, confidence is restored in nuclear power, and accidents are seen as a thing of the past. In Japan, as well as in many other countries, the nuclear industry had essentially lulled the public into complacency by maintaining that these types of accidents were simply impossible. And after Chernobyl happened in 1986, the West could point to Soviet reactor designs and say, well, that was due to the flaws in the design, could never happen here. Japan cultivated this image that nuclear power was safe and that Japan was extremely competent and knew how to do it and run it cleanly. And if you've ever toured a Japanese nuclear plant as I have, they look spotless compared to, let's say, U.S. facilities.

But it was all image. While regulations can mitigate against engineering or human flaws, some hazards are less easy to control. Japan is situated in what's known as the Ring of Fire. This rim of the Pacific is the most seismically active region on Earth, experiencing 80% of the world's earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. Accordingly, Japan develops the most advanced early warning earthquake system on the planet, as well as construction methods designed to cope with additional stresses. Right from the start, Fukushima Daiichi's engineers believe they've found a quake-safe spot,

and that defensive building will ensure protection. Nuclear reactor siting is generally based on the principle of assessing the external hazards that could occur at the site and looking really at the historical basis. So essentially, they looked at the most severe earthquakes that they could expect would happen at the site and the most severe flooding, and they designed it accordingly. designed it accordingly. They located the emergency diesel generators below grade as an earthquake safety measure, because the shaking that equipment could experience below grade would be presumably less than if it was above the surface. Continuing seismic studies are part of the fabric of Japan. But in the early 2000s, scientists predict that an abnormal and extremely large quake could hit the eastern coast within years, and the Fukushima plant could be directly in its path. Alarms are raised and minor concern starts to spread. However, within the industry, there's a general inertia.

Businesses don't want to make costly upgrades to cope with a futuristic scenario which may never occur. The one thing you can say with certainty about seismology is that it's highly uncertain. Even though there were suspicions that the site could experience more severe earthquakes than it was originally designed to withstand, there was no firm evidence to that effect. But a few years later, on March the 11th, 2011,

that worst case prediction becomes a reality. At 2.46 PM, 45 miles off the Eastern coast of Japan, the tectonic plates beneath the bed of the Pacific Ocean slip. The result is the largest earthquake ever recorded in Japan, and the fourth largest on Earth since seismology began. Its effects are felt around the world. The quake is so big that it moves Honshu, Japan's main island,

over two meters closer to the United States. The movement of landmass even shifts the Earth on its axis by several inches, slightly shortening the length of a day for all of us permanently. In time, it will be referred to as the Great Japan Earthquake. One minute before Tokyo shakes, the early warning system distributes alerts to millions of people. Across the country, alarms sound, mobile phones light up, and its population of 13 million hurriedly prepare. In the reactor control rooms of Fukushima Daiichi, alerts shriek into life. One by one, the plant's early seismic sensors trip. Technicians are just reacting when the ground beneath them trembles.

They are well drilled in earthquake scenarios, but as the shaking grows, they know this is serious. Staff seek shelter as ceilings collapse. Although the buildings are designed to withstand shaking, fixtures are thrown. serious. Staff seek shelter as ceilings collapse. Although the buildings are designed to withstand shaking, fixtures are thrown. Desks and filing cabinets topple and windows shatter. Lights blink out. Within seconds, the site's emergency generators kick in to restore power. Finally, after six minutes of terror, the quake subsides.

As workers in the plant survey the damage, all eyes in the reactor control rooms go to the various indicators and gauges assessing the status of the nuclear reactors. Three of the six reactors, numbers 4, 5 and 6, were offline pending scheduled inspections. They present no immediate risk. But reactors 1, 2 and 3 were actively generating electricity at the time of the quake. Thanks to those early warning sensors, though, a shutdown process known as a scram was automatically

triggered before the technicians even felt the first tremor. While buildings across the plant have been damaged, the reactors themselves are safe. A scram is a sudden shutdown of a nuclear reactor you can either manually scram the plant or there are automatic systems which will shut it down the basic way that that's done is through the insertion of control rods and these are rods made of a material that absorbs neutrons. So if you insert the rods in, then it starts absorbing more neutrons, and there aren't enough neutrons to sustain the chain reaction, and the chain reaction shuts down.

The shutdown means the plant is no longer generating electricity. But thanks to the quake, it's not receiving any power from outside either and is entirely reliant on its 13 diesel generators. This emergency power supply is crucial. It runs the control rooms and powers the consoles needed to monitor the reactors. Even more vital is the electricity required for the cooling systems. There's still a tremendous amount of heat within that reactor core because nuclear fission produces what are called fission products.

When uranium nucleus splits, it produces other radioactive materials, which decay at a faster rate, and that decay generates heat. The main objective is to keep that fuel cool, and that means water and plenty of it. That means keeping the core submerged in water. But if there is an interruption of cooling for some period of time, depending on conditions, then the water in the core will start to evaporate and eventually to boil. Some staff members are evacuated, leaving the rest to work through their safe shutdown protocols. So far, despite the damage the quake has wrought elsewhere,

everything is under control. But as technicians attempt to make the plant safe, out at sea, events are overtaking them. The earthquake was merely nature's opening salvo. The quake has thrust a 110-mile-wide section of seabed upwards, triggering enormous waves in all directions, from Alaska to Antarctica. As far away as Northern California and even Chile, 11,000 miles east, and on the other side of the Pacific, the coasts will be pounded by two-meter swells.

Eastern Japan stands no chance. Tsunami warning systems trigger the highest level alert, but the quake has knocked out power and communications in the surrounding area. Accelerating to almost 400 miles per hour, 20 minutes after the quake, the wave slams into Japan's coast. The impact of the tsunami is far more devastating than the quake itself, as a wall of water floods ports, towns, and villages. A churning mass of rubble, trees, and debris is swept inland, instantly flattening everything in its path. In all, over 250 square miles of Japan's coast is submerged.

It leaves almost 16,000 people dead and thousands more injured or missing. Half an hour after the wave hits, the huge tsunami reaches the seawall of Fukushima Daiichi. The power plant's defences, designed to protect the buildings, rise between five and seven metres above the ocean's surface. But here, the tsunami is fourteen metres high. It effortlessly clears the walls, bursting into the site and overwhelming the plant's ground level. Debris-laden seawater engulfs Fukushima Daiichi, tossing cars through windows, flooding offices and carrying away oil tanks and trucks. The generators in their earthquake-proof basements beneath the reactors are submerged several meters below sea level.

One by one, every light, screen, and control panel across Fukushima Daiichi goes dark. The flooding caused by the tsunami disabled the on-site emergency diesel generators, almost all of them, as well as the plant batteries that are needed to provide direct current power to certain systems like lighting and instrumentation control panels. And it also shorted out much of the electrical distribution system, meaning that you couldn't use much of the wiring that carries electricity from one part of the plant to the other. That station blackout that occurred at

Fukushima meant the staff there had no electricity, both auxiliary functions like lighting and control room instrumentation control panels, but also for cooling. In less than an hour, the situation has spiraled from controlled shutdown to utter chaos. Without electricity to monitor the reactors, workers have no way of knowing the extent of the damage. One thing they do know is that without power to the cooling systems, the fuel inside the reactors will heat up fast. They have little choice but to take matters into their own hands. The staff improvised by raiding some car batteries from the parking lot, which they were able to successfully hook up for some period of time. But of course, these batteries do not last very long.

The temporary power indicates that while the reactor cores appear undamaged, temperatures are indeed rising and coolant is boiling away. At high temperatures, the cladding inside the reactors will produce large volumes of extremely flammable gas. This gas could blow the reactor buildings apart, releasing clouds of radioactive material into the atmosphere. Worse still, if the fuel itself is exposed, heat will surge rapidly. A chain reaction of terrible consequences threatens to destroy the plant and have repercussions far beyond Fukushima. Directing the situation from a fortified earthquake-proof building at the plant, manager Masao Yoshida is facing the scenario everyone fears most, a meltdown.

Once that fuel starts to melt, it's going to release a whole lot more radioactive material. This entire molten mass will fuse together and will sink to the bottom of the reactor vessel, which is the steel vessel that contains a reactor core. That hot molten mass is so corrosive that it can actually eat through the steel at the bottom of the reactor vessel. So you have the fuel melting through the bottom of the reactor vessel ending up on the floor of the containment where it will then react with concrete. At 4.30 at 4 30 pm less than two hours since the quake's first tremor was felt yoshida makes the difficult decision to declare

a nuclear emergency horrified residents within a two-mile radius are evacuated by emergency personnel but many choose to stay behind desperately combing through the rubble in search of survivors. Power is down across much of the affected area, and phone networks are unreliable. Fire trucks and cars with loudspeakers drive through towns and villages, advising those within six miles to remain in their homes. As night falls, most have only candlelight. remain in their homes. As night falls, most have only candlelight. They wait anxiously, praying that the plant's workers, many of them their own friends and family, can bring the situation under control. Communication isn't much better inside the plant. Most of the mobile radio sets only have one-hour batteries, with no way to recharge them,

and Yoshida struggles to discuss the situation with TEPCO HQ over the teleconferencing system. There's also no way of communicating directly with the government to coordinate emergency relief. Both TEPCO and the government have released vague statements and are focused on saving the lives of those affected by the devastating tsunami. But workers inside the plant understand all too well that without cooling systems, the reactors are ticking time bombs. As word gets out that the plant could become the next Chernobyl, residents further afield start to respond. They send batteries and mobile generators to the plant, hoping they'll kickstart the cooling systems and save the country from nuclear disaster.

to the plant, hoping they'll kickstart the cooling systems and save the country from nuclear disaster. But the highways are thronging with fleeing vehicles, mudslides, collapsed bridges and debris, meaning progress is painfully slow. The first generator arrives at the plant later that night, but it can't be linked to the reactors due to flooded wiring and incompatible connectors. Emergency personnel continue efforts to bring in extra power lines, but all the while, temperatures inside the reactors continue to climb. In the early hours of March 12, TEPCO gives warnings that radiation levels are rising. Inside the control rooms, technicians scrabble through emergency manuals by torchlight,

searching for ways to cool the reactors. As dawn breaks over the gray horizon, cold light illuminates a scene of utter devastation. Though the seawater has receded, much of the site remains seriously flooded. The six reactor buildings rise from twisted girders and piles of concrete, broken equipment and crushed cars. The evacuation area grows to a 12-mile radius. Radiation levels at the plant's outer boundary are now over regulatory limits and increasing with every second. All workers heading outside must wear protective equipment. Work to restore power continues,

but Masao Yoshida and his crew fear it's too late. Readings suggest the core of Reactor One has already been exposed and is descending into meltdown. As if this isn't bad enough, Yoshida knows that dangerous levels of explosive gas are building at the top of the reactors. If the valves aren't opened, the structures will be blown apart. At 9.15am on March the 12th, almost 20 hours since the first tremor was felt, Yoshida decides to send technicians into the radioactive building.

Yoshida decides to send technicians into the radioactive building. The decision to try to vent the reactor containments was one of the most difficult decisions that Yoshida and the Japanese government had to contend with. They had to execute very difficult manual actions, including physically going into rooms with high radiation levels to try to turn valves because they did not have controls of those valves from the control room anymore. In the main control room, the shift manager explains the situation to the crew. He acknowledges that doing the work manually means exposure to high levels of radiation but if the gases aren't vented soon an explosion might follow that could kill everyone on the site

radiation from such an incident would spread over an enormous area the shift manager asks for volunteers when When, unsurprisingly, no hands are raised, he announces he will go himself. This prompts some of the more experienced workers into action, and eventually more hands go up in the air. Volunteers, dubbed suicide squads, are allocated based on age and experience. It's a grim reality which feeds their decisions. The types of cancer caused by radiation in the buildings will take decades to form. This means that the older workers are less likely to develop cancer in their lifetime. Members of the suicide squads prepare themselves for the horrific challenge ahead.

Less than 24 hours have passed since the deadly earthquake, and in reactor building one, the first pair of volunteers enter the site. Clad in heavy protective suits and breathing equipment, each man carries a dosimeter, a handheld radiation measuring device. Outside, it is already scoring higher than expected. As the other technicians watch on, the first man places a thick glove on the door handle. He glances at his colleague, whose brow is furrowed behind the lens of his face mask. Another aftershock shudders underfoot, but once it's passed, the first man gives his partner a final, nervous nod, then opens the door. The digits on the dosimeter creep up. The first man edges into the darkness and touches his hard hat to click on a head torch.

In the dim beam, you can see debris scattered by the quake, making the corridor a deadly obstacle course. Ceiling panels and hanging light fixtures brush against him as he steps gingerly onwards. Behind, his colleague slams the door shut. He holds the dosimeter up into the beam of his torch. The reading is higher, but still within limits. The first man carries on, navigating through familiar but devastated corridors, festooned with exposed wires and pipework. He moves through doorways, up a ladder, always with one eye on his watch or the dosimeter with its ever-climbing readings.

Deeper into Building 1, the first man starts to feel the heat from the melting reactor. He moves as quickly as he can in the cramped conditions, knowing full well that another aftershock could bring the ceiling down on top of him. His face mask is fogged now, but when he wipes the lens, he only manages to spread around the radioactive dust in front of his eyes. Though the respirator prevents him from breathing poisonous clouds of smoke, he knows that the

thick outerwear is doing nothing to prevent the gamma radiation penetrating his body. He's only been inside the building for a few minutes, but is already exhausted. The haze of dust, toxic gas and smoke is something firefighters are used to, but he's not been trained for this. Finally, the bobbing torch beam finds the wheel that opens the valve. With his colleague monitoring the dosimeter, he jams a metal bar between the spokes of the wheel and heaves. It doesn't move. This is heavy equipment, not designed to be operated by hand, and he's fighting pressure

in the pipes as well as the dead electric motors. But he hasn't come this far to give up now. He wrenches it again. This time the wheel groans and slips slightly. A third heave slides it round a little more. The dosimeter emits a shrill alarm. It means that at this level they'll be exposed to a year's maximum safe dose of radiation in less than an hour. After ten minutes the valve is a quarter open and the men have to go. It's a crucial first step but the battle's not won yet. As they traipse back through the deadly debris of building one, the two volunteers can only thank their lucky stars that they are not part of the next team, whose job it will be

to open the second valve downstairs, right next to the reactor itself. The staff at the plant were not equipped or trained to cope with those conditions, but they performed in an exemplary and a very courageous fashion. As bad as the accident was, it was through their dedication, their work, that even worse consequences were avoided. The second team turns back when radiation levels don't even allow them to reach the next valve. Instead, they're forced to manage it from a distance using compressed air. By 2.30pm, the valves are finally open. Large clouds of toxic, radioactive gas are instantly released into the atmosphere. But it's a necessary evil.

An uncontrolled, Chernobyl-like explosion would have been far worse. With this first vital stage accomplished, Yoshida and his team can concentrate on restoring power to the reactors. Outside the buildings, electrical cables are laid and pipes and pumps set up to deliver coolant. and pipes and pumps set up to deliver coolant. Then, shortly before 3.30pm, the plant is rocked violently once again. Yoshida's first thoughts are of another aftershock, or worse, a second full earthquake. However, the reality is even more frightening. The reactor in Building 1 has exploded.

As Yoshida and other workers fling open the doors to the earthquake-proof command center, they see thick plumes of toxic white smoke belching from the steelwork and shattered concrete. Flaming debris rains down across the site, burning through the new power lines and pipes. Evidently, the vents were opened too late. Somewhere, a spark ignited the remaining gases. Four people are injured in the blast, and all workers are pulled back. Yoshida and his crew huddle in the safe haven of the control center to take a headcount, tend to the wounded, and devise a new plan. Yoshida knows it's still a race against the clock, and soon everyone is back to work. The only consolation is that had the gas not been vented at all, the outcome would have been far more deadly. Thankfully, the reactor vessel itself is undamaged by the second blast.

Now, emergency equipment arrives on the scene. The fighter vessel itself is undamaged by the second blast. Now emergency equipment arrives on the scene. Fire engines and medical workers, contractors, military personnel and pumping trucks. Everyone knows another explosion could come at any time. So they redouble their efforts, stringing together more hoses and electrical connections, dodging radioactive debris. All while a cloud of toxic gas rises from the roof of the damaged building. Deep within the reactor, the core continues to melt down through its concrete base. To keep control of the temperatures,

workers need to find a supply of fresh water. But from where? Yoshida's eyes glance at the safety manual sitting on his desk. He doesn't bother opening it, though. He knows it contains no answers for the nightmare he's facing. Instead, his gaze moves through the window and out to the Pacific Ocean. Here is an inexhaustible supply of water. Faced with few alternatives, this may be the only way to cool the reactors. But Yoshida knows it's not without its problems. Salt water could completely destroy Fukushima's reactors and render them a costly piece of radioactive scrap metal. Their decommissioning would trigger huge financial losses for TEPCO and potential bankruptcy.

The staff at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear plant were not prepared to handle this kind of an event. They did have emergency plans, but those were inadequate. So the manager of the plant, Masao Yoshida, rose to the occasion in really a quite remarkable fashion. By thinking on his feet, improvising, and doing everything he could with all the tools available to him under those incredibly difficult circumstances, he was able to simply try everything possible to prevent this plant from sliding into the worst possible condition. It is just after 7 p.m. on Saturday, March the 12th, almost 30 hours after the quake. The mood in the earthquake-proof control center is anxious. The mood in the earthquake-proof control center is anxious.

Around the room, disheveled engineers and technicians sit around paper-strewn desks surrounded by torches, manuals and equipment. None of them is more strained than plant manager Masao Yoshida. In a few minutes, the wall of video conferencing screens at the end of the room will be connected with TEPCO HQ in Tokyo. Yoshida sits back in his chair, removes his glasses, and rubs his nose between finger and thumb. Without permission from TEPCO or the government, Yoshida has ordered soldiers from the Japanese Defense Force to lay pipes down to the jetty at the pacific shore fire engine pumps are currently sucking up huge gulps of sea water forcing it through the wreckage of the plant and injecting it into the coolant pipes of the reactors the operation is being monitored by torchlight the workers are fully aware that they could be swept out to sea by another tsunami or blown up by an exploding nuclear reactor at any moment. Suddenly, Yoshida thinks of something.

He gestures to his colleague in charge of pumping operations, and whispers to him quickly, just as the video conferencing screens flicker into life. All eyes turn to the screen. The discussion is brief, and Tepco's instructions to Yoshida are simple. Stop the pumps immediately, pending a decision by the Prime Minister. Switch to the last remaining sources of fresh water before considering pumping another liter of seawater. As Yoshida expected, Tepco and the government are concerned about the damage the seawater will wreak on the reactors. They don't seem to understand that if the reactors are not cooled soon, the impact will be catastrophic. Switching over to freshwater will also take time,

and with temperatures still rising, it's time they cannot afford. But Yoshida also knows that he won't win this battle with the executives for now he has no choice but to obey the orders from above reluctantly yoshida stands and clears his throat nodding to the men on the screen and in a tone barely concealing his disappointment he tells everyone in the control room to suspend all seawater pumping operations satisfied the executives end the call technicians scrabble in to continue their tasks but what the executives don't know is that Masao Yoshida doesn't intend to follow their instructions.

In the seconds before the video call, he exchanged a few words with the technician in charge of pumping. Correctly anticipating Tepco's response, the two men agreed that Yoshida would give the order to stop pumping, but that it was to be completely disregarded. but that it was to be completely disregarded. Eventually, the instruction comes through from TEPCO to recommence seawater operations, which were never halted. But by the next morning, on March the 13th, Yoshida has a host of new problems to contend with. At 11.15 a.m., a blast shakes Reactor 3. This time, it's a larger hydrogen explosion.

Soldiers from Japan's Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical Defense Unit are severely injured, as are TEPCO staff and contractors. Work continues, but it's hindered by radiation and debris, with aftershocks, floodwater, and short-circuiting electrical equipment ever-present threats. Early the next morning, yet another explosion tears through the walls and rooftops of Reactor 4. This time, a fire takes hold. The concern is now for the spent fuel pool, where temperatures are rising rapidly. where temperatures are rising rapidly.

Every reactor had its own storage facility for the used nuclear fuel that was no longer usable in the reactor. Those are called spent fuel pools. Those are swimming pool-like structures. And in boiling water reactors, they're elevated. They're on the fifth floor of the reactor building. One solution that was used was converting trucks that were designed to pump concrete in the construction of buildings and recruiting them to pump water instead, these giraffe-like structures, and that was needed primarily to replace water in the spent fuel pools.

Minutes later, another explosion echoes across the site, this time from Reactor 2. It's enough to damage the pressure containment vessel, and with radiation levels rising even higher, Masao Yoshida gives the order to evacuate the plant. But Yoshida himself has no thoughts of leaving. He has resigned to his fate. thoughts of leaving. He has resigned to his fate. Following the evacuation order, most staff members leave, save for a few volunteers and key personnel. Those who remain will go down in history as the Fukushima 50. Although in reality, far more than that number stay on site. I do think the Fukushima 50 is a bit of a myth. There were more staff there on a long-term basis.

And after a few days, many hundreds of replacements rotated in and out. You also have to remember that they weren't equipped for staying at the plant long-term under those conditions. Just basic human needs were not being met. You know, the ability to sleep comfortably, toilet facilities, food and water, all those were extremely difficult to obtain. And so that these very harsh circumstances were just another difficulty that strained the staff. The damaged reactors are still without power and manual cooling efforts continue. Fires, smoke and steam frequently halt operations, with constant evacuations and assessments hindering work. Water pumped in to cool the reactors escapes out again, mingling with the groundwater and washing across the site back into the sea.

Tons of radioactive material are flushed away with it. mingling with the groundwater and washing across the site back into the sea. Tons of radioactive material are flushed away with it. Over 150,000 people evacuate their homes. The government announces a further 18-mile radius no-fly zone, where people are advised to stay indoors. The U.S. Embassy tells American citizens living within 50 miles of the plant to evacuate. Given that this covers 16 times the area of the Japanese government's own evacuation zone, it's seen as tantamount to labeling Japan's own measures insufficient. On March 23, 12 days after the initial earthquake, radiation reaches Tokyo, over 130 miles from Fukushima.

The levels found in drinking water are over twice the legal limit for children. Over the following weeks, workers gradually return to the stricken plant. Power to all four damaged reactors is restored by march the 26th and workers begin to upgrade the cooling systems to bring them under control the immediate danger is over but contaminated water continues to escape into the pacific efforts concentrate on stemming these leaks by the end of 2011 the site is is finally stabilized, and on Friday, December 16, nine months after the earthquake and tsunami, TEPCO release a statement that all reactors are now in a state of cold shutdown. Fukushima is officially designated a Category 7 incident,

on par with Chernobyl, due to the continuing leaks into the atmosphere and ocean. Since 2011, the plant has been filling containment tanks with wastewater, but experts estimate it will soon run out of land on which to store them. To combat this, in early 2021, the government approves a controversial plan to begin dumping radioactive water directly into the sea. The Japanese plan is to discharge that water through a long pipe at a low rate. The rate's low enough so that the actual discharges of tritium and other radioactive materials are going to be much lower than they were when the plant was operating. Since the incident, several inquiries and investigations have taken place to learn from

the events. An independent investigation concluded that not only could the incident have been prevented, its effects could have been mitigated by a more effective response. Fukushima shocked the world. We weren't shocked. We understood that that type of accident, even though improbable, could be extremely severe. And it happened when it happened, according to what we expect. I haven't seen any evidence to indicate that they covered up, that they made judgments which were inappropriate at the time.

But that does point to the larger issue of whether nuclear plant siting and this process of determining the potential hazards is really appropriate and conservative enough to accommodate the most severe scenarios. And I think the example here is that when you site a nuclear power plant, you don't know really what may happen down the line. The total death toll of Fukushima is difficult to measure. Two plant workers were killed when the tsunami hit, but to date there have been no recorded deaths due to radiation.

Evacuated residents were exposed to such low doses that they are undetectable. But still today, 30,000 people are unable to return to their homes due to the fallout, and the reactors continue to emit radiation. In the long term, there are other isotopes, in particular one called cesium-137. This is a half-life of 30 years, meaning it persists in the environment really for hundreds of years.

And it has this very unpleasant characteristic of it emits what's called a gamma ray, energetic gamma ray, that can penetrate through human skin tissue. So you don't have to inhale it or adjust it to be exposed it just increases the ambient radiation background and can render areas uninhabitable evacuated residents experience symptoms such as lack of sleep depression phobias and stress there's a marked increase in smoking, alcoholism, and suicide.

Life expectancy is reduced and family breakdowns become commonplace. The Japanese public totally soured on it. The public acceptance of nuclear power plummeted. All the reactors in Japan pretty much shut down and they had to revamp their entire regulatory system to try to restore public confidence. Today, of the 54 Japanese nuclear reactors in operation in 2011, only 10 are still in

use, in just six plants. However, rising fossil fuel prices, instability and war, as well as the urgent need to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, have once again heightened interest in nuclear power. Some 650 new nuclear facilities are planned around the world for completion before 2030. According to the World Nuclear Association, the risk from nuclear accidents is low and decreasing every year. Officially, the technology is considered safe. But the long shadow of the Fukushima disaster continues to affect the global conversation about nuclear power. Next time on Short History Of, we'll bring you a short history of the Boston Tea Party.

And we think of the UK as a nation of tea drinkers, but we don't think of the US that way, right? Americans tend to drink coffee rather than tea. And so some people say, oh, well, it must be because the Boston Tea Party was the Americans demonstrating how much they hated tea. And that's not true. I mean, Americans loved tea. Right. They loved tea before the tea party. They loved tea after the tea party. They would have kept drinking it, you know, had it not become this kind of politicized issue. And even then, you know, there are all these stories of Americans kind of secretly drinking tea, even though there were supposed to be boycotts against it. That's next time.