I pray fears of a major leak at Sellafield nuclear plant are being taken seriously

There are reports of more than 100 safety problems at the Sellafield nuclear power plant and a leak first reported four years ago has been allowed to worsen. It’s a nightmarish prospect and I hope someone is taking urgent remedial action, writes Cumbria native Chris Blackhurst

Sellafield plant in Cumbria was formerly known as Windscale (Supplied)

Every so often, when we were children, Father would borrow a portable Geiger counter and take us to the beach. While we – my sister and I – played on the sand, he would wander around with the machine. Whenever it neared a clump of seaweed the gadget would click furiously and loudly.

He taught in a secondary school and the device was in their laboratory. We lived at Barrow-in-Furness in Cumbria, just down the coast from Sellafield, Europe’s largest nuclear reprocessing plant.

Back then, we would see ships from Japan regularly dock and unload their radioactive cargo onto special freight trains for transporting to Sellafield. Meanwhile, in the nearby shipyard, they were building submarines powered by nuclear reactors.

By and large, we Cumbrians were grateful for the atomic business. Employment in that part of the world does not come easily. There is the adjacent Lake District, with its tourist trade, but otherwise, that’s about it as far as mass numbers are concerned. Sellafield and the shipyard are by far the biggest single employers. Not everyone was so delighted. The campaign group Cumbrians Opposed to a Radioactive Environment made plenty of noise, but because of the jobs and cash that was flowing into the local economy from things nuclear, struggled to have any impact. We knew that the risk of a spillage, of a major accident, was an ever-present. It was a given, it went with the Faustian pact of relative prosperity in return for accepting the danger. We put it from our minds, reassuring ourselves that the powers-that-be would ensure our wellbeing and that the standards would be maintained.

Reading of a worsening leak from a crumbling silo of radioactive waste and fears concerning cracks in a reservoir of toxic sludge at Sellafield sparks alarm and other memories. The authorities had not always been so vigilant.

Older folk would speak of the “great fire” in 1957 at Windscale and how that accident was covered up. Details were scarce. Windscale was renamed Sellafield. We continued to refer to the facility as Windscale. Not officialdom: possibly in some twisted attempt to pretend the fire never happened, to wipe the slate clean and begin afresh, they never used Windscale, calling it Sellafield. For many years, the 1957 fire was the nearest Europe came to feeling the terrifying effects of a nuclear disaster. Then came Chernobyl.

In both cases, winds from the stricken sites blew plumes of poisonous clouds over neighbouring countryside and far and wide, across entire countries. In Cumbria, in 1957, farm-produced milk over a large area was poured away; later, after Chernobyl erupted, and the radiation drifted across the continent, Cumbrian lamb was thrown away.

Sellafield has grown dramatically since it was Windscale. Today, Sellafield occupies a two-square-mile site, employs 11,000 people and stores and treats nuclear waste from weapons programmes and nuclear power stations.

Yes, but is it safe? Frighteningly, no. Not according to papers leaked to The Guardian. A document sent to members of the Sellafield board in November 2022 raised widespread concerns about the degradation of safety across the plant, warning of the “cumulative risk” from failings ranging from nuclear safety to asbestos and fire standards.

A scientist on an expert panel that advises the UK government on the health impact of radiation said the risks posed by the leak and other chemical leaks at Sellafield have been “shoved firmly under the rug”. (Sellafield says incidents are reported to regulators and published on its website).

Apparently, US officials are so concerned that they have warned of its creaking infrastructure in diplomatic cables. Among their worries are leaks from cracks in concrete at toxic ponds and a lack of transparency from the UK authorities about safety issues.

The Irish and Norwegian governments are also said to be alarmed. The Norwegians are fearful that an accident could see radioactive particles carried by the prevailing winds across the North Sea, devastating Norway’s food production and wildlife. They’ve even spoken of offering to help fund Sellafield so that it can be run more safely, rather than “run something so dangerous on a shoestring budget and without transparency”. That must tell you something and it’s deeply concerning.

This, while Ireland has also previously voiced apprehension regarding Sellafield, referring it to a UN tribunal in 2006. That existing leak at the facility is being assessed by scientists. A report in June, from the Office for Nuclear Regulation, said while Sellafield deems the leak’s current risk to be “as low as reasonably practicable”, scientists are thought to be increasingly concerned that the full scale of the leak – and the rate at which it may pollute the groundwater – is unclear. Sellafield is understood to argue that the leak poses “no additional risk” to staff and the public.

This leak was first reported four years ago. Instead of remedying it, the leak has got worse. A previously unseen document reveals that 2.3-2.5 cubic metres of radioactive “liquor” has been flowing from the facility every day.

There is also anxiety about B30. Known as “Dirty 30”, it is a toxic pond, a reservoir containing radioactive sludge from corroded nuclear fuel rods used in old power stations. Its concrete and asphalt skin is claimed to be ribboned with cracks. These cracks are said to have worsened in recent months.

In all, risk reports are said to highlight more than 100 safety problems at the site as constituting a matter of serious regulatory concern. Others include a lack of functioning alarms, daily work stoppages due to a shortage of staff trained in nuclear safety, and increasing numbers of contamination and radiation protection incidents.

Sellafield is also claimed to have a poor working culture, including bullying and a lack of trust in management. Poor culture was held to blame for the chain of events that led to the nuclear disasters at Chernobyl and Fukushima in Japan.

The November 2022 document was prepared by the then chief nuclear officer, Dr Paul Robson, tasked with overseeing nuclear safety at Sellafield. It revealed a “cumulative risk” posed by failings in a range of areas, from nuclear safety to managing risks from fire and asbestos.

The dreadful thought is that none of this comes as a major surprise. As we’ve discovered recently, successive governments have let the nation’s infrastructure creak and wear away. If schools are forced to close because they have asbestos in them; if other public buildings are shut for the same reason or because they are in a state of neglect and no longer fit for purpose; if our motorways and railways are in a constant state of disrepair, what prospect is there of Sellafield being any different? Equally, poor working culture has been shown to be rife in many areas of British life.

It’s a nightmarish prospect. I’d like to believe that during those many years since my childhood, safety measures were rigorously pursued and Sellafield was properly maintained.

I’m hoping that instead of falling back on meaningless management-speak and platitudes – and indulging in similar obfuscation to what occurred in 1957 – urgent remedial action is either not necessary or is under way. Please God, let that be the case.