Below is an excerpt from the last chapter of
Superfuel: Thorium, The Green Energy Fuel Of The Future by Richard Martin.
Martin outlines two future scenarios. One based on what is likely to happen if the US does NOT take steps towards clean, carbon-free baseload energy infrastructure. The other future is more optimistic.
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WHAT WE MUST DO SO, LET US ASSUME THAT A NUCLEAR POWER transformation program is fully funded. The goals are to:
•Build a prototype LFTR within five years
•Commercialize LFTRs starting in 2020
•Bring LFTRs on line at a rate sufficient to replace fossil fuel plants with clean energy sources by 2050
How much power would that be? The United States consumed about 3.8 million gigawatt-hours of electricity in 2010. Coal accounted for 44 percent of that, nuclear for 20 percent. Total U.S. electricity-generating capacity is about 1,000 gigawatts.
Under an optimistic scenario for renewable energy production from wind, solar, biomass, geothermal, and so on, let’s say that, to reduce carbon emissions enough to stave off catastrophic climate change, by 2050 we must increase the portion of our electricity generated by nuclear power to 50 percent. One half of 1,000 gigawatts is 500 gigawatts, or 500,000 megawatts.
Electricity demand will grow in the next four decades, of course, by as much as 50 to 60 percent in some forecasts. But I’m being optimistic. So let us say that improved conservation technology and changing consumer habits will limit the increase in demand, and we must build enough new nuclear power plants to generate 500 gigawatts by 2050. That’s the equivalent of 500 thousand-megawatt nuclear reactors. Between 2020 and 2050 that means building about 17 LFTRs a year. Let’s be ambitious and call it 20 new thousand-megawatt thorium plants a year, for a total of 600. One of the beauties of LFTRs is that they can be mass-produced. Small, modular LFTRs can be built as 250-megawatt machines and assembled into larger plants. Boeing builds about one $200 million jet a day. A modern airliner has many, many more moving parts and greater overall complexity than a 250-megawatt LFTR. If we build, say, four LFTR manufacturing plants a year with each plant producing 20 250-megawatt reactors (five 1,000-megawatt plants) a year (think of the jobs and spillover technological benefits each plant would bring to the state in which it’s located), that would just about do it.
And from 2050 to 2100 we can build another 400 plants, until we have created 1,000 gigawatts of thorium power. By the end of the century, we will have built a safe, clean energy infrastructure based on a mix of offshore and land-based wind farms, big solar arrays in the West, geothermal, and natural gas plants, layered on top of a baseload power-generating sector of thorium reactors. Particularly in the Southwest, these plants will use excess heat energy to desalinate seawater. How much will this cost? Technology advances will bring the cost of thorium reactors down rapidly after commercialization, potentially to the cost of a new jet. Call it $1 billion per thousand-megawatt plant. The cost of building 600 thousand-megawatt LFTRs (or twenty-four hundred 250-megawatt machines) would come to $600 billion. Add 15 percent for start-up costs and financing and round up: $700 billion.
In comparison, the 2010 budget for the U.S. Department of Defense was $685 billion. In other words, for about what we spend in one year on defense in wartime (which, by the way, is almost as much as all other countries spend on defense combined), we can lay the foundation for a thorium-based, carbon-free energy economy that could last a millennium. And most of that construction cost will be borne by private industry, which, thanks to the expedited licensing and speedy construction of LFTRs, will generate profits from this construction boom in a short timeframe. Consider the costs, direct and indirect, of building any other thousand-megawatt power plant (coal, conventional nuclear, solar, natural gas)—or of doing nothing and allowing climate change to run rampant by midcentury. Building a couple dozen LFTRs a year starts to sound like a bargain. Alvin Weinberg’s vision of a nuclear-powered world running on molten salt reactors will become a reality a couple of generations later than he foresaw. These are ambitious goals.
What, then, must we do to pull them off? To create a thorium energy economy in the next decade, three things must happen at once: funding, licensing reform, and R&D. I have already described the funding mechanism that must be put in place quickly, by the end of 2013. Licensing reform and R&D—including the development and procurement of the needed materials and fuel—must occur in parallel. The president should order the NRC to expedite its licensing process so that the period from application to final approval is no more than five years. That means that by 2015, while a prototype LFTR is being built (at the Savannah River Site, Idaho National Laboratory, or Oak Ridge), companies will begin submitting applications. At the same time, you must have fuel to start up all those reactors. Two kinds are required: fissile fuel to ignite the chain reaction and transmute thorium into uranium-233, plus the thorium itself. Luckily we have plenty of both.
The Department of Energy (DOE) has more than a ton of U-233, produced by past thorium reactor experiments, on hand. Foolishly, the DOE planning to spend half a billion dollars to blend the U-233 with U-238 and throw it away in the desert. That plan must be scrapped and the U-233 put to good use as starter fuel for LFTRs. As for thorium, the U.S. Geological Survey estimates that total thorium reserves in the United States are about 440,000 tons, mostly in Montana and Idaho. If we assume that future LFTRs will achieve an energy efficiency of 50 percent (half the available energy in a given unit of thorium is actually converted to electricity), then a single ton of thorium would produce about 12.1 billion kilowatt-hours (or 12.1 million megawatt-hours) of electricity. About 1,650 tons of thorium would satisfy all the electricity needs of the entire world for a single year. Since LFTRs can be run as breeder reactors, producing more fuel than they consume, 440,000 tons is effectively a limitless supply of nuclear fuel.
THE NEXT STEP, once a prototype reactor has been built and tested, is to build a series of liquid fuel reactors to burn up the plutonium and fission products from existing spent uranium fuel. Kirk Sorensen has proposed a type of liquid chloride thorium reactor, a cousin to LFTRs, that will consume transuranic fission products and use plutonium to create uranium-233. The U-233 will be used to start up new LFTRs.
Next we must create the infrastructure to manufacture LFTRs. The expertise to build these machines is dispersed among a cadre of start-ups described in chapter 9, including Flibe Energy, DBI, and so on, as well as among the big nuclear suppliers like GE and Westinghouse, which already, in some cases, have R&D programs for liquid-core reactors. As has happened in the electric vehicle market, the actual manufacturers would likely include established companies (GE), start-ups (Flibe), and joint ventures combining the two. States will compete to host the new plants with tax incentives, university-based R&D support, and training programs to provide the skilled workers. (Here it’s worth noting that the Navy has for years been training recruits with only high school educations to be shipboard nuclear engineers. The new thorium power industry will create thousands of skilled, high-paying jobs that do not require a Ph.D. in nuclear physics.) It does no good to build carbon-free thorium reactors if you don’t get rid of the existing nuclear and coal-fired plants.
Decommissioning nuclear reactors is a long, involved, and costly process. A typical decom costs $300 million and takes a decade; an extreme case, like the Hanford Weapons Reactor, can cost billions and take many decades. Ways must be found to bring down that cost. One way would be to build new LFTRs on the sites of old nuclear plants and use the new thorium reactors to consume the fission products from the old machines. As for coal plants, new regulations from the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) will lead to the retirement of dozens of aging facilities in the next few decades, regardless of what type of new plants come on line. In July 2011 the consulting firm ICF released a report saying that, while shutting down existing coal plants will take longer than foreseen in the EPA deadlines, 30 to 50 gigawatts of coal-fired electricity production will be retired in the coming decade.17 Total coal-fired generating capacity in the United States is about 314 gigawatts. Shutting down 50 gigawatts of that every decade, and replacing it with safe, clean thorium power, will eliminate coal from the U.S. electrical portfolio by 2070.
These are achievable goals. Remember: the obstacles to creating a thorium power economy in the next 40 years are not technological or even economic. They are political and perceptual. If we don’t do it, it will be because we chose not to—not because it was impossible.
HERE IS WHERE THE CURRENT nuclear power establishment—the nuclearati— guffaw and roll their eyes. There are a hundred reasons why the scenario I’ve laid out will not happen, they say. Uranium is inexpensive (for now), the existing reactor population is safe (except when it’s not—see Fukushima), plenty of new reactor designs are less radical than LFTRs (which is why they won’t make enough of a difference), and so forth.
We can’t do it because we’ve never done it before. They are right about one thing: the United States is not likely to be at the center of the thorium power revolution. Here’s a more likely scenario.
Discovering the advantages of thorium technology, the Chinese accelerate their program to build a dozen LFTRs in the next 15 years. They recruit the top thorium talent in the world and co-opt the nascent Japanese program, signing lucrative contracts with the top nuclear suppliers in Japan and South Korea, thus compressing further the R&D timeline. By 2030 China is the leading source of LFTR technology—and of raw thorium fuel—in the world.
India, watching its Asian rival move rapidly to the fore in advanced nuclear power, shifts its three-stage program to a more accelerated development schedule based on solid fuel technology from TerraPower and Lightbridge. Using its huge reserves of thorium as leverage with other emerging thorium power nations, such as the United Arab Emirates, India builds a thriving thorium power sector, building reactors at a slower pace than China but, by 2030, becoming a leader in its own right. Enhanced energy security, and the economic power and diplomatic prestige that come with it, allow India to reach a lasting détente with its perennial foe, Pakistan.
Farther east, on the Pacific Rim, both Japan and South Korea rapidly build thorium reactor technology sectors, supplying China and India with the advanced materials and components they need while starting to build thorium reactors of their own. By 2030 the fastest-growing source of electricity in Asia is thorium power; by 2050 liquid fluoride thorium reactors are supplying a significant fraction of the power not only in China, India, Japan, and Korea but also in secondary, technology-importing countries like Vietnam, Taiwan, Singapore, and Indonesia. Watching this transformation unfold in Asia, the nations of Western Europe—led by France, Norway, and the Czech Republic, already in 2012 the home of significant thorium R&D efforts—belatedly underwrite their own thorium power programs. While the European Union attempts to establish its own thorium power technology sector, low-cost equipment and fuel from Asia prove irresistible, and China becomes the Saudi Arabia of the new nuclear-powered world.
And the United States? Saddled with debt, paralyzed by wooden-headed political opposition to taking action to reverse climate change, and bound to powerful fossil fuel and nuclear power sectors and their well-funded lobbyists, the United States enters an irreversible cycle of declining living standards, diminishing international stature, and ravaged cities. Civil unrest ensues, and the collapse of our political institutions accelerates. Our top graduates, unfulfilled by their professional prospects at home, emigrate to booming technological centers like Shanghai, Singapore, and Seoul. Our vaunted military, unable to procure energy for its far-flung overseas missions, contracts. As in fourth-century Rome, the roads decay, harbors silt up, the legions become disaffected, and the elite retreat into their marble palaces. All because we failed to capitalize on a technology that we once held in our hands.
THAT’S A WORST-CASE SCENARIO. And it’s hardly inevitable. So what are the chances that Congress will back a technology that, though proven and tested decades ago by American scientists, is seen today as a radical new system? What is the likelihood that the American public will support a new form of nuclear power so soon after Fukushima? How plausible is it that Silicon Valley venture capital funds will provide billions to thorium power start-ups?
One answer to all those questions is: no more likely than it was, in August 1939, when Albert Einstein wrote President Roosevelt to urge development of atomic weapons, that the United States would design, build, test, and detonate a nuclear warhead within six years. The Manhattan Project, which mobilized vast intellectual, material, and technical resources in a short amount of time, is often cited as the paradigm for solving big and complex problems. General Groves’s list of essential requirements, born out of his Manhattan Project experience, has become famous in management theory circles: “Put one man in charge, give him absolute authority, keep the chief outside the bureaucracy, use existing government organizations whenever possible, create a small advisory committee,” and so on. To that list, based on the experience of the nuclear power industry, I would add, “Keep military concerns separate from economic and energy-related goals.”
One main lesson of the thorium power debacle is that for too long we have polluted nuclear power policy with rationales and missions produced in the Pentagon. What a disgrace it would be if the United States—the cradle of nuclear physics, the country that first designed and built liquid-fuel thorium reactors, the greatest source of technological innovation the world has ever known—failed to muster the resources and the will to create the energy source for the twenty-first century and beyond. Forests have been consumed to produce books wondering whether we, as a nation and as a people, are still capable of Manhattan Project–sized achievements and, if not, why not. The declinist school, it must be said, is in ascendance, exemplified most clearly in books like
The End of Influence by the Berkeley economists J. Bradford DeLong and Stephen Cohen:
“The American standard of living will decline relative to the rest of the industrialized and industrializing world. . . . The United States will lose power and influence.”My middle-aged, well-educated American friends unquestionably have a waning confidence that they will pass on to their children and their grandchildren a world as clean, safe, peaceful, and full of promise as the one we grew up in. Unimaginable budget deficits; rising competition from populous and dynamic Asian countries; declining educational, moral, and cultural standards; the rise of seemingly insurmountable environmental crises; the coarsening of public discourse; and the disappearance of inspirational, admirable leadership have all contributed to our sense that we now live in a Spenglerian era of Western decline. A New York magazine cover line actually referred to this as the era of
“Post-Hope America,” the same week Foreign Policy magazine’s cover headline asked, plaintively,
“What Ails America?” So, when I think about what I’ve seen reflected in thorium’s glossy surface in my three years of research, it’s simple: hope. Hope that technology can lead us out of the mess into which technology has gotten us. Hope that through divine Providence or intelligent design or the random workings of quantum mechanics, Earth has been granted an inexhaustible energy source that will not destroy the systems and balances that sustain life. Hope that my son, now 12 and a gifted mathematician, may help engineer a thorium power revolution that will solve the energy crisis, dissipate the threat of nuclear annihilation, restore a sense of higher purpose and collective endeavor, and keep the lights on for another few millennia at least.
In about a century and a half, the Age of Hydrocarbons delivered us a world of shrinking ice caps, resource wars, mass extinctions, and creeping drought. It could take us less than a century to reverse those trends and usher in the Age of Thorium. For millions of years, thorium has been there, awaiting the right time, the right circumstances, and the right minds to bring it to light and enable it to provide thousands of years of clean, safe, affordable energy. Alvin Weinberg was right. The time is now. The technology exists, the economics are favorable, and the need is urgent. The choice is ours.