Some 30 nuclear engineering departments at universities across the United States graduate more than 900 students every year. These young men and women are the present and future of the domestic nuclear industry as it seeks to develop and deploy advanced nuclear energy technologies, grow its footprint on the power grid, and penetrate new markets while continuing to run the existing fleet of reactors reliably and economically.

Commercial nuclear power is illegal in Australia, and it has been since the 1990s. This past June, however, the country’s main opposition party announced plans to build seven commercial nuclear reactors in the 2030s and 2040s on sites presently occupied by aging coal-fired plants—should the party’s Liberal–National Coalition win power in federal elections next year. This statement has reignited a public debate regarding the potential role of nuclear energy in Australia.

Dutton

The only nuclear reactor in Australia is a small one in the Sydney suburb of Lucas Heights, which has been used to produce medical radioisotopes since 1958. Recently, the Hon. Peter Dutton, Parliament’s leader of the opposition to the Labor-led government, announced his plan to get the country into the nuclear energy business by building five large reactors and two small modular reactors by 2050.

Criticizing the government’s “renewables-only” energy policy, Dutton promised to have the first nuclear reactor operating by the mid-2030s, should his Liberal–National Coalition win power in the next federal election (to be held on or before September 27, 2025). That promise, which would require overturns of existing federal and state bans on nuclear energy, has generated a great deal of controversy in Australia among government officials, political activists, and nuclear engineers.

Craig Piercy
cpiercy@ans.org

There are worse places to be than Vienna, Austria, in the early fall. The place has an old-world vibe for sure. The U-Bahn doesn’t have turnstiles; it runs on the honor system. People take care to dress up before they amble down the Kärntner Strasse, the city’s main shopping district.

Every September, a little further north, 3,000 delegates from around the world, along with 200 representatives from nongovernmental organizations, descend on the Vienna International Center of the United Nations—the VIC, for short—for the International Atomic Energy Agency’s General Conference. Attendees ply its curving hallways and attend side events, engage in meetings on the margins, and tour the national booth displays.

Inside the large, purpose-built plenary hall, a seemingly endless procession of national speakers, each allotted seven minutes (with flashing red digits to let all know who’s run over time), tout their nation’s achievements in nuclear technology and express its views on nuclear matters of any sort. As an accredited NGO, ANS has a desk in the plenary complete with microphone and wireless translation headset. An IAEA plenary is a highly scripted affair—one that looks boring at first glance, but once you put the headphones on and get acclimated to the vagaries of real-time translation, a coherent and interesting picture starts to emerge.