Urban legends, it is said, arise from secret fears. They are society's dark fantasies. And it doesn't help to debunk those fears when an incident plays into the paranoia.
Such seems to be the case with nuclear power. Hollywood horror films about a 50-foot woman and a Spider-Man spawned by radioactivity have fueled more than a few nightmares. And it didn't help when — on April 26, 1986 — the nuclear power plant in Chernobyl in the Ukraine exploded, spewing fallout over more than 77,000 square miles, scarring the landscape and the lives of thousands.
Some claim the accident led to the fall of the U.S.S.R.
It obviously has led to the caution exhibited by the United States when it comes to using nuclear energy as a power source.
The fact the Soviet accident was shrouded in secrecy (to this day nobody knows the death toll) hasn't helped alleviate fears. And not all the concerns over radiation are unfounded. The events of Three Mile Island are proof. But calming the nerves of Americans after Chernobyl has not been easy, especially with popular culture playing on the dread to create films.
We have been adamantly opposed to storing nuclear waste in Utah. Our argument is, if it is as safe and contained as the industry would have us believe, store it where it was created. Why the need to ship it halfway across the country and put it in a desert? It's a question of justice as much as safety.
Still, we're not completely prepared to toss the baby out with the bath. We recognize that much of the hysteria generated by nuclear energy is more emotional than rational. And we realize that the haphazard approach in the USSR to nuclear power plants doesn't reflect the conscientious approach other Western nations have taken.
Perhaps nuclear energy is truly not a viable option. Perhaps the risks are just too great.
But on this anniversary of the disaster in Kiev, we urge those who fret about the nation's energy needs to make sure any decision to put the kibosh on nuclear energy is based on science and research, not politics — and certainly not a single incident in Russia or the unnerving sight of a radioactive 50-foot woman striding through towns on the silver screen.