Snoozing guards at Los Alamos, missing vials of plutonium oxide… Yes, the headlines in late June were announcing “security lapses” again at national labs and nuclear weapons plants. It seems that an Al Qaeda terrorist could roll up to the gates of the Sandia National Laboratories, haul out an RPG and catch America napping yet again. Sounding all brisk and efficient, Energy Secretary Spencer Abraham acknowledged a recent critical report from the General Accounting Office and has taken standard evasive action, in the form of that whiskered veteran of bureaucratic ass-covering, the “security review.” At Sandia, Dave Nokes, vice president for national security, was picked as the sacrificial goat and forced to resign.
The mess at Los Alamos has had its humorous side. Lillian Anaya, a Los Alamos equipment buyer, thought she was ordering $30,000 worth of transducers. But the number she called had been changed from an industrial equipment dealer to an auto parts shop, so she wound up buying a Mustang instead–with government money. Or so say Los Alamos and University of California investigators, who recently cleared Anaya of any wrongdoing (though I still don’t quite understand why she got the Mustang).
Let’s get back to the larger picture and the obvious question: Whom do they think they’re kidding? To talk about terrorist opportunity offered by slack security just at Los Alamos and Livermore is like saying that hijackers would try to board planes only at Logan and Atlanta. There’s scarcely a state in the union that hasn’t got tanks or barrels of nuclear waste, or decommissioned reactors saturated with radioactive materials. Most Interstates carry trucks hauling mobile Chernobyls around the country.
We’re talking sixty years of US nuclear weapons research, development, testing and production, which has left us with staggering amounts of some of the most dangerous substances on the planet. And that’s not even to mention the nuclear utilities.
The “security” scene doesn’t change rapidly when it comes to nuclear materials and waste. All you can do is try to store radioactivity safely and wait for the millennia to roll by until it naturally decays. But of course it’s mostly stored in extremely unsafe and vulnerable conditions.
You live in Texas? There’s the Pantex plant, producing nuclear weapons. In Colorado? You’ve got Rocky Flats. Flee to the clean breezes of the Pacific Northwest? Whoa! Here’s the Hanford nuclear reservation, with 177 tanks, each containing a million gallons of radioactive waste, of which sixty-seven are known to have leaked at some point. How about Idaho? Camp in the hills, cheek by jowl with the militia holdouts. Sorry, you’ve got the National Engineering lab up the road, where intensely radioactive waste was converted to dry form for “permanent” storage nearly forty years ago but now has to be extracted and repackaged.
Head for the heartland, and you find the Fernald plant in Ohio, whose career history includes cumulative “release” of at least 500 tons of toxic uranium dust, kept secret for many years. Turn south into Kentucky, and there, across the horizon, is the Paducah Gaseous Diffusion Plant. Watch where you drink. A 1,300-acre underground plume of Technetium-99 (a uranium-decay product) is migrating toward the Ohio River at the rate of several inches a day. The DOE has identified more than 5,700 such plumes of various kinds of contamination under or near its sites across the country.