What's changed since Copenhagen?

Few expect big breakthroughs at China's climate change talks this week. The real success will be in smoothing relations after the Copenhagen debacle and small side deals that are more realistic, observers say.

Christian Science Monitor, Oct. 5, 2010

Taipei, Taiwan -- United Nations climate officials say they hope to get talks for a new global deal on carbon cuts back on track after last year's climate talk debacle in Copenhagen. This week's climate change conference hosted by China in Tianjin could give them just that opportunity.

But with mistrust still high and feelings raw, few expect any big breakthroughs in Tianjin, or at higher-level talks beginning in late November in Cancún, Mexico. Instead, participants are focusing on smaller side deals that are more realistic, observers say, indicating that though a comprehensive deal might not get finalized here the real success of the conference will be in smoothing relations with small steps.

"Almost everybody is downplaying their expectations," said Yang Ailun, Greenpeace China's head of climate and energy, in a phone interview from Tianjin. "People are talking more about specific issues they think they can make progress on, such as climate finance and forestry."

Tough road ahead

The Tianjin talks are a prelude to Cancún, when world leaders will again try to cobble together a global deal on reducing greenhouse-gas emissions blamed for global warming. The aim is to forge a consensus before the current Kyoto Protocol expires in 2012.

Hopes for a grand deal were dashed in Copenhagen last December, when talks broke down amid recriminations between rich and developing countries who couldn't agree on how to share the burden for deep emissions cuts, and how such cuts should be verified.

Much of the focus is on China and the US, now the world's top two emitters of greenhouse gases. China insists the US and other developed countries should make more dramatic cuts and do more in funding and transferring technology to poorer countries for green energy efforts.

The US wants China and some other developing nations to bear more of the burden for cuts, and wants a mechanism for verifying such cuts – something Beijing has resisted.

And they're closely watching the attitude of China, the world's largest greenhouse-gas emitter, as it hosts the conference for the first time in the 20-year history of United Nations global climate change talks.

Observers say there's no sign either side is prepared to budge much from those positions. From China's point of view, said Greenpeace China's Yang, the US is doing little domestically – climate change legislation is stalled in the US Congress – and isn't offering much at the negotiating table, either.

"China can't get any of the technology or climate finance it wants, so it feels like there's very little the US can offer," she said. "It's one reason why negotiations have really stalled."

Some progress

Still, the view from Tianjin isn't all bleak. Of $30 billion pledged by developed nations in Copenhagen to help developing countries fight climate change, $28 billion is already lined up. Observers are optimistic the rest will be in place by Cancun, though there's skepticism that some of the funding is merely previously-committed money repackaged as "green" aid.

Yang said negotiators also appear to be closing in on a deal on fighting deforestation.

There are also signs that China is getting more serious about climate change, both domestically and on the global stage. The US and China have begun cooperating on clean energy research, and China is retooling coal plants in an effort to ease pollution.

In Copenhagen, where China took much of the blame for the breakdown in talks, Beijing learned that it has new-found responsibilities as a major world player, said Yang.

"China came to understand that given the scale of the country, there's simply no way it can hide – you're either the leader or you will be blamed," Yang said. "By hosting this meeting, it sends a strong signal that China is thinking about how to play a more proactive role on the international stage."

Ma Jun, director of the Beijing-based Institute of Public and Environmental Affairs, said in a phone interview that China has a strong domestic motivation to curb emissions, especially from its coal plants, which still supply 80 percent of its electricity, according to the World Resources Institute.

Greenpeace China has estimated that there are more than 1,400 coal-fired power plants in China producing over 375 million tons of coal ash a year.

"We understand that if we don't change our current way of inefficient growth model, then China will sooner or later face a very severe energy security challenge," said Ma. "Our current way of growth also generates a massive amount of pollution, which we cannot afford."

Ma noted that China is now the world's leading investor in renewable energy, but said "it's not enough." He said better enforcement was needed to rein in emissions and curb construction of new coal-powered plants, and that the Chinese public needed to be better informed about "the true environmental and social cost of coal mining and coal burning."

Alternatives to a deal

Ma said many obstacles remained for a global deal, including America's failure to take a "proactive" stance on the issue. US greenhouse-gas emissions increased 16 percent from 1990 to 2006, according to a 2007 study by the Netherlands Environmental Assessment Agency.

Given such challenges, he said the world should explore alternatives to an elusive UN-backed global deal, which might not even prove effective. Worldwide emissions have ballooned 25 percent since the Kyoto Protocol was negotiated, according to a World Bank report last year.

One avenue some environmental groups are exploring, Ma said, was corporate carbon disclosure projects, which could allow consumers to apply economic pressure on big polluting businesses to cut carbon emissions throughout their supply chains. "That could serve as a kind of feasible alternative if we can't reach an intergovernmental agreement," said Ma.

China surpassed the US as the world's largest emitter of greenhouse gases in 2007, and each country now produces about 20 percent of global carbon dioxide emissions, according to the World Resources Institute.

But China's per-person emissions are only about a quarter that of the US 70 percent of China's energy demand comes from the industrial sector, while private consumption accounts for most of the energy demand in the US, according to the Institute. Private energy demand is expected to skyrocket in China in the coming years as the middle class swells and car sales boom.

China is a major investor in hydro, wind, nuclear, solar, and other renewable power sources, and aims for 15 percent of its energy needs to come from such sources by 2020. The US has no such national goal, though some states like California have set their own targets.

China and other developing countries have pledged to curb the growth of their carbon emissions, rather than promise absolute cuts. Those targets "should be understood in the context of the development stage in China," where 150 million people still live in poverty, Stanley So, manager of Oxfam Hong Kong's Economic Justice Campaign, wrote in an e-mail.

China's per-person GDP is $3,700, compared to more than $46,000 in the US.

"It is a compromise between development and the climate change challenge," Mr. So said, of China's target.

Original site

China hit by floods

China Reels From Deadliest Flooding in a Decade

AOL News

(July 22) -- China's deadliest flooding in a decade has officials scrambling to respond and has sparked concern about the gargantuan Three Gorges Dam and China's many overtaxed reservoirs.

Flooding, downpours and landslides have hit more than half of China's 22 provinces, and so far this year more than 700 people have been killed, with several hundred more missing.

"What's different about this rainfall is that it's very concentrated in the areas that it has hit, and it has fallen in a short period of time," Kuang Yaoqiu, a professor at the Guangzhou Institute of Geochemistry, told the Los Angeles Times. "That's why in some areas and rivers the amount of rain has reached historic levels."

The scientist blamed the flooding on low sea temperatures brought by La Nina and predicted heavy rains would continue through August, the Times said.

La Nina refers to a pattern of cooler than normal waters in the Pacific Ocean that "recur every few years and can persist for as long as two years," according to a National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration fact sheet.

So far, some 110 million people have been affected by China's flooding, with 645,000 houses collapsed, shipping locks closed and waters higher than warning levels in 230 rivers and at historic highs in two dozen rivers, according to agency reports.

Damages are estimated at $21 billion, according to EastDay.

The Yangcheng Evening News reported Wednesday that one Sichuan Province stretch of the Yangtze River basin was experiencing the biggest floods in 163 years.

East Asia's typhoon season has just begun, meaning the flooding may get worse. Tropical storm Chanthu was expected to make landfall in southern China today.

Chinese media reported a water commission official forecasting another flood surge next week, but said some 350,000 people had been mobilized to patrol dikes and other water-control measures all along the Yangtze River basin.

"The situation is grave," China's State Council said Wednesday, according to EastDay.

Chinese officials are saying the controversial $24 billion Three Gorges Dam has been key in reducing casualties and damage this time around, since it gives authorities greater control over the amount and speed of water released downstream into the Yangtze River basin. The dam's construction was completed last year.

Liu Ning, vice minister of water resources, told CNN and other media that the dam successfully contained floodwater that hit at speeds of 70,000 cubic meters per second early this week, which he said was 20,000 cubic meters per second more than the 1998 flooding.

"The Three Gorges Dam is instrumental in our flood control efforts," Liu said. ""We are able to control the outward flow of floodwater as it goes downstream."

Floodwaters crested over the massive dam on Tuesday morning, showing the extent of the water rise.

Liu said China has also completed another 29 water control projects since 1998's disaster.

But some Chinese are skeptical. One viral blog post translated at Chinasmack compares media headlines from 2003 to the present, showing less and less confidence in the dam's capabilities.

"Three Gorges Dam impenetrable; can withstand a once-in-10,000-year flood," reads a headline from 2003. A headline from 2007 rolls that back to "can withstand a once-in-1,000-year flood," and by 2008 another headline cites a "once-in-100-year" flood.

The latest headline, from this year: "Yangtze Water Resources Commission: We can't put all of our hopes in the Three Gorges Dam."

An opinion piece in Southern Network quoted an unnamed Three Gorges Dam official who responded that the dam's flood control abilities hadn't changed. "The media took a different view at different times," the official said.

Original site

Asia's nuclear dilemma

Nuclear power has long been opposed on safety, environmental, security and business grounds. But Asian governments are saying they can't fight global warming without more of it.

Global Post, March 21, 2010

TOKYO, Japan and TAIPEI, Taiwan — East Asian governments are pushing nuclear power as part of the answer to global warming, causing dismay for some environmentalists.

Like the Obama administration in the U.S., governments here are saying nuclear power must be part of any realistic plan to reach targets for aggressive carbon emissions cuts while meeting energy demands.

Activists counter that governments should focus more on renewable energies and conservation. And skeptics say nuclear power is a dicey business that could leave taxpayers holding the bag.

For now, those concerns don't appear to be stopping what some have billed a global "nuclear renaissance."

The U.S. is planning the first new nuclear plants in 30 years, aided by the Obama administration's generous loan guarantees. In East Asia, global warming has given an extra push to nuclear expansion plans that were already underway.

The leading Asian nuclear power, Japan, plans eight or nine reactors by 2020, adding to its current 54, and hopes to begin reprocessing its spent fuel in Japan later this year.

South Korea plans six to eight more reactors by 2016, adding to its fleet of 20.

China has the most aggressive expansion plans, with 21 reactors now under construction to nearly triple its current fleet of 11. (Beijing wants a whopping 70 gigawatts, or 9.7 percent of the country's electricity needs, to come from nuclear by 2020, compared to just nine gigawatts and 2.7 percent of its electricity now.) Its plans have already sparked safety concerns.

Taiwan is the least ambitious East Asian country on nuclear power, due to a strong anti-nuclear movement that briefly halted expansion of nuclear power in 2000.

But under its current, more nuclear-friendly administration, it's hoping to renew the licenses of its small fleet (six reactors at three plants) for another 20 years, and to open a fourth nuclear power plant in 2011. And it wants to install three new reactors at its existing plants by 2025.

Both Japan and Taiwan are boosting renewable energies such as solar and wind power. But both governments say that in the near term, such sources are too pricey and unproven to provide more than a fraction of energy demands. In the meantime, they say, they can't do without nuclear power.

Land of the rising nukes

Japan's new government has pledged some of the world's most ambitious carbon emissions cuts. Under its center-left prime minister Yukio Hatoyama, it aims to cut emissions to 75 percent of 1990 levels by 2025, provided other big powers make similar cuts.

How it would actually get there is another story. In an interview in a bland meeting room in Kasumigaseki — the heart of Tokyo's bureaucracy — nuclear energy official Katsuyuki Tada marshaled graphs and numbers to show where the cuts would come from.

Out of 329 million tons of CO2 equivalent to be cut by 2020 — the "maximum improvement" under government projections last August — 61 percent will come from energy conservation. Meanwhile, 4.5 percent would come from control of chlorofluorocarbons. Just 5.4 percent of cuts are expected to come from "new energy" like wind and solar. And the rest of the cuts, almost 30 percent?

You guessed it: nuclear power, based on the assumption of nine new reactors by 2020.

Even those cuts only get Japan to 92 percent of 1990 emissions levels, still far away from Hatoyama's target.

"We think nuclear power plants are essential to combat climate change, because nuclear power doesn't emit any carbon dioxide," said Tada.

The prime minister agrees. On March 7, according to the Japan Times, he told reporters: "Although nuclear power presents problems of waste and safety, it is my understanding that it is an essential energy for saving the global climate and reducing carbon dioxide," remarks that promptly drew criticism from a staunchly anti-nuclear junior coalition partner.

Japan wants to boost nuclear power's proportion of total electricity generation to 40 percent in 2020, up from roughly 30 percent today, by building new nuclear plants and raising capacity at existing reactors. It wants another 10 percent of electricity to come from other zero-emissions sources such as wind and solar.

Tada said nuclear power has the advantage of being far cheaper than renewables: 4.8 to 6.2 yen (about five to seven cents) per kilowatt hour, compared to 10 to 14 yen/kwh for wind power, and 46 yen/kwh for solar. Renewables are just too expensive to be a bigger part of Japan's energy diet in the near future.

Nuclear not the answer: activists

Philip White, of the Tokyo-based Citizens' Nuclear Information Center, disputed those figures. "Renewable energies like wind and solar are not too expensive," wrote White in an email. "Wind is cheaper than nuclear now. Solar will soon be cheaper when economies of scale and the associated development advances get operating."

He says energy sources should be compared based on the retail cost to the consumer, since some renewable energies can be produced on-site, for example with rooftop solar panels. By those calculations, renewables are more competitive.

Activists like White cite studies pointing out nuclear power's shaky business model, such as this report on nuclear power in the UK, or a study from MIT that concluded that the drawbacks of reprocessing spent fuel outweigh the benefits. (Japan hopes to begin reprocessing its own spent nuclear fuel this year.)

"Renewables are a realistic replacement for fossil fuels at this point," White insisted. "Nuclear energy is an obstacle to solving problems associated with climate change."

Veteran anti-nuclear activist Makoto Kondo agrees. He disputes the notion that nuclear is a "clean" energy source, pointing out that parts of the nuclear generation process, such as mining uranium for fuel, do produce CO2. And he insists nuclear power is a risky gamble, especially in a country like Japan that's prone to frequent earthquakes.

One of the most recent big quakes, in 2007, toppled more than 100 barrels of nuclear waste at one plant, caused a fire and dumped 317 gallons of water with trace amounts of radioactive waste into the Sea of Japan.

Due to that and other accidents, as well as halts after falsifications of reports at other plants, Japan's nuclear fleet operated at only 58 percent of capacity in 2008, far below the 80 percent capacity assumed in government projections on emissions cuts.

"We need to develop more clean energy, not depend on nuclear energy," said Kondo. "This is the only way to fight global warming."

But Kondo admitted his longtime activism had had little impact. "I didn't do enough in the past 40 years," he said, shaking his head. "But I still hope we can stop nuclear generation some day. We can't give up."

Ambivalent island

By contrast with Japan, Taiwan's activists have successfully slowed, if not stopped, the island's nuclear expansion.

Now, however, a nuclear-friendly government is quietly turning back to nuclear power, and making the case that it's an essential part of any carbon-cutting plan.

Taiwan's government targets a modest reduction of carbon emissions to 2000 levels by 2025. It backs energy efficiency and renewables, hoping to get 55 percent of its electricity from "low carbon" sources by 2025, according to the Bureau of Energy.

"Nuclear is a non-carbon energy source," said Tu Yueh-yuan, spokeswoman at Taipower, Taiwan's state-run power firm, and its only electricity provider. "If we don't use nuclear, we'd have to increase energy supply from fossil fuels."

Like the Japanese nuclear power official, Taipower's Tu presented a graph showing Taiwan's CO2 emissions soaring from about 76.5 million tons of CO2 equivalent in 2000 to 180 million tons by 2025 under "business as usual" assumptions.

Of possible emissions cuts from that level, only 7 percent come from boosting renewables like wind and solar. Some 25 percent comes from boosting liquid natural gas. Meanwhile, 38 percent of cuts come from extending the operating licenses on Taiwan's three nuclear plants. And another 30 percent would come from installing three new nuclear reactors at existing plants.

Even then, emissions would only be reduced to 98.7 million metric tons, still far above 2000 levels. Energy conservation will have to kick in to get the rest of the way.

Tu notes that Taiwan has an independent electric grid and can't buy supply from any neighboring country, reducing its options. Meanwhile, wind and solar power are far more expensive than nuclear.

And if you hope to store electricity generated from wind or solar power, that will double those costs, said Tu. "In Taiwan, wind power is much more expensive than nuclear power," said Tu. "Solar will get more and more cheap, true, but there's not much land for solar panels, and most people in Taiwan live in condominiums, so there's not much roof space."

"So if you don't use nuclear, what are you going to do?" she said.

Save energy, don't produce more

Kao Cheng-yan has some ideas about that. He was studying computer science at the University of Madison, Wisconsin when the 1979 Three Mile Island accident happened. Like many of his generation, that accident — and even worse, the Chernobyl disaster of 1986 — set him against nuclear power.

Like many anti-nuclear activists, he says the key to curbing emissions is cutting energy use, not planning ways to meet ever-increasing energy demand. "Taiwan's energy is too cheap," he says (it's about NT$2.67 per kilowatt hour for the consumer, according to Taipower). "Our biggest problem is the need to cut energy consumption."

He points out that many nuclear plants are in low-lying coastal areas that could be inundated by rising sea levels. And in terms of the power that is used, he still thinks nuclear is too risky, particularly in earthquake-prone Taiwan, which experiences a magnitude 6 or greater quake every 100 days.

He and other Taiwan activists have long opposed any expansion of nuclear power, especially the long-delayed fourth nuclear power plant.

When an anti-nuclear party came to power in 2000, it immediately made good on campaign promises and halted construction of that plant. But after the ensuing political crisis, that government was forced to compromise. Construction of the plant resumed in line with a Supreme Court ruling, but lawmakers passed a resolution supporting an eventual "nuclear-free homeland."

That may have disappointed Kao and other activists. But it was far more than the anti-nuclear movement has achieved elsewhere.

Asked why Taiwan was more ambivalent about nuclear power, Kao speculated, "Taiwan is smaller, and when earthquakes happen, everyone feels them."

For now, anti-nuclear forces are focused on opposing any plans for a nuclear dumping ground. Like the U.S. and Japan, Taiwan has not found a final resting place for its nuclear waste, another reason not to expand nuclear power, say activists. Activists also want a referendum on the fourth nuclear plant.

Kao insists nuclear power can only hurt, not help, the battle against climate change.

"There's no way to solve global warming with nuclear power," he says. "Only renewable energy can solve the problem."

Original site

Japan pushes nuclear power

Japan sees green in new nuclear power plants

Christian Science Monitor, March 1, 2010

Tokyo and Matsuyama, Japan -- Japan is pressing ahead with an expansion of nuclear power, despite public unease and vocal opposition from activists.

Poor in natural resources, the country has long dreamed of reducing its fossil fuel dependency through domestic nuclear power. Now it's casting nuclear energy as a key to the fight against global warming, an argument that critics reject.

Japan's debate closely mirrors those worldwide, as governments highlight nuclear power as an easier way to cut carbon emissions than boosting wind and solar power.

President Obama, for example, on Feb. 16 announced $8.3 billion in loan guarantees to build the first nuclear reactors in the United States in 30 years – the first of many, he promised.

Japanese Prime Minister Yukio Hatoyama has pledged to cut Japan's carbon emissions to 75 percent of 1990 levels by 2020, if other major economies set similar targets. His government recently backed a plan for low-interest loans for new nuclear reactors.

"If we want to do this 25 percent reduction, obviously we need more nuclear plants," says Shunsuke Kondo, chairman of Japan's Atomic Energy Commission.

But the public isn't entirely convinced. According to the Japanese cabinet's own poll last November, 54 percent say they feel anxious or uneasy about nuclear power, with the top concern being the risk of an accident. Forty-two percent said they feel "safe" about nuclear power.

Meanwhile, activists criticize Japan's nuclear program as dangerous, expensive, and impractical. One concern is Japan's earthquake-prone geology, which they cite in raising the specter of a quake-induced Chernobyl. Just on Saturday, a magnitude 6.9 earthquake hit off Japan's southern coast, shaking Okinawa and nearby islands and rupturing water pipes.

In recent months, activists have focused their ire on the government's introduction of "pluthermal" fuel in nuclear plants. The term refers to the use of mixed uranium-plutonium fuel known as MOX (mixed-oxide) fuel.

The government touts pluthermal as a way to reuse spent fuel, saying it's more efficient and produces less high-level radioactive waste than normal reactors. It first introduced MOX fuel at a nuclear plant last year. That drew weeks of protests from activists.

A second plant, at Ikata, near the port city of Matsuyama, is set to use MOX fuel in March. "MOX fuel is many times more dangerous than uranium fuel," says Makoto Kondo, a longtime opponent of the Ikata plant. "When it comes to blasts or accidents, far more devastating damage would occur with pluthermal reactors."

Ambitious plans

Officials acknowledge they must work harder to win public trust. But they insist that nuclear plants are safe.

Japan now gets about a third of its electric power from some 54 nuclear power plants. It hopes to build eight more by 2018, boost capacity at its existing plants, and upgrade more plants into pluthermal ones.

The Atomic Energy Commission's Mr. Kondo and other officials say using MOX fuel allows Japan to recycle its energy resources. Japan currently sends spent fuel to Europe, where it is reprocessed into MOX fuel and shipped back. "The simple reason for using plutonium is because we want to use our resources as best as we can," Kondo says, adding that MOX fuel has been used safely in Europe for years.

He says Japan's plants were built to withstand all but a "once in 10,000 year" earthquake. But he acknowledges that since Japan switched on its first reactors in the 1960s, three quakes have produced vibrations exceeding design assumptions. (Large safety margins in construction prevented any major accidents in those cases, he says.)

According to the Ministry of Economy, Trade, and Industry (METI), nearly a third of Japan's planned carbon reduction targets by 2020 will come from nuclear power, making it the biggest source of carbon-emission cuts after energy conservation (60 percent).

In contrast, the government expects less than 6 percent of cuts to come from renewable energies.

"Nuclear power is one of the important sources of Hatoyama's target," says Katsuyuki Tada, a deputy director at METI.

For Japanese planners, the goal is to achieve a self-sufficient "nuclear cycle," with fast-breeder reactors sending spent fuel to Japan's own reprocessing plants, to be turned into MOX fuel.

Public opposition

But critics say it's a costly and risky pipe dream. The fast-breeder reactor program is technically daunting and has been plagued by delays; 2050 is the current target for commercial use.

Japan is set to begin reprocessing this year or next, after many delays, and hopes to produce MOX fuel by 2015.

There's also a proliferation and terrorism risk. MOX fuel is a tightly regulated material that could be used to make a "dirty bomb." It's transported by custom-built, armed ships with an elite police detail.

Disposal is also a question. Like many countries, Japan has yet to establish a permanent storage site for high-level radioactive waste, and "not in my backyard" sentiment runs high.

But as even the activists admit, those concerns don't look likely to dissuade the government.

Original site

Whaling on trial?

Two Greenpeace activists in Japan face up to 10 years in prison for tactics used in exposing black market sales of whale meat. Anti-whaling groups hope Monday's trial helps turn Japanese public opinion against the whale harvest.

Christian Science Monitor, February 14, 2010

Tokyo -- The menu reads like a "save the whales" activist's nightmare.

There's "gristle of the whale upper jaw" (750 yen or about $8). "Sliced raw whale heart" (750 yen). The variety platter: "five kinds of whale dainty bits" (2,800 yen).

At this elegant restaurant in Tokyo's bustling Shibuya neighborhood, some 20 customers dine on whale (kujira) as soft jazz plays. In more casual kujira joints on Tokyo's outskirts, a small, more working-class clientele does the same.

Such meals are at the heart of a perennial debate over Japanese whaling, and recently made headlines again with the collision of a ship from antiwhaling group Sea Shepherd and a Japanese "research" vessel.

Defenders of the practice here say whale hunting and consumption are part of a treasured heritage. Japanese antiwhaling activists dispute that, and join foreign critics, especially in the United States and Europe, who decry whaling as barbaric.

Now, Japan's antiwhaling forces are hoping to use a trial – that begins Monday – of two Greenpeace Japan activists to sway public opinion here against the practice.

Whaling as a cultural tradition

Konomu Kubo of the Japan Whaling Association – a nonprofit that promotes resumption of commercial whaling – says the controversy is stirred up by a few mostly foreign activists. "The Japanese people have used whale and whale meat as a valuable food source since ancient times," he says. "Such indigenous culture should be respected by other countries."

Commercial whaling was banned in the 1980s by the International Whaling Commission (IWC). But Norway still whales under a formal "objection." Iceland has also engaged in off-and-on whaling by that means and under the name of scientific research. Several indigenous groups are allowed limited catches, and non-IWC members Indonesia and the Philippines also catch whales in small numbers.

Japan's fleet has caught more than 500 whales per season in recent years in the Southern Ocean, and more than 350 in the North Pacific, according to Japan's Institute of Cetacean Research, which runs Japan's whaling program.

While the institute declined an interview request, Mr. Kubo of the Japan Whaling Association says the institute produces between 4,000 and 4,500 metric tons of whale meat per year from its research program. Most of that ends up on restaurant tables, likely including the Shibuya shop (the manager at the Shibuya restaurant declined a request for an interview).

Fried whale meat used to be served in school lunches, though that's now limited to a few coastal communities, Kubo says. He adds that Japan supports "sustainable" whaling, meaning it does not kill endangered or depleted species, but targets more abundant species like the minke whale.

He says Japan has a low "food self-sufficiency," and must secure its own food resources. He complains that the IWC promised to review the moratorium by 1990, but did not.

"Public opinion strongly supports whaling," asserts Kubo, though he acknowledges less support from young Japanese. "What we are afraid of is that the whale meat diet culture will disappear.

Reliable polls are hard to come by. The whaling association points to a 2002 survey by the prime minister's office, and could not provide more recent numbers. That poll found 76 percent support for hunting minke whales, if such whaling were "based on scientific evidence so that there was no adverse impact on whale resources." Ten percent of those polled were opposed.

The latest poll commissioned by Greenpeace Japan from 2008 found 44 percent of respondents were neither for nor against resuming commercial whaling; 31 percent were pro and 25 percent were against. But the poll, by the Nippon Research Center, only sampled those who signed up on a website.

Taxpayer money subsidizes 'research'

Greenpeace Japan says change is more likely under the new Democratic Party of Japan-led government, which has railed against wasteful spending.

Junichi Sato, an activist with Greenpeace Japan, says pro-whaling groups were "switching the argument" because their scientific research defense was not persuasive. Mr. Sato says Japan didn't begin large-scale whaling off Antarctica until after World War II, and used equipment and ships imported from Norway.

Sato argues that the government uses taxpayer money – 500 million yen per year (about $5.5 million), according to his group – to subsidize "research" whaling. He's one of two Greenpeace Japan activists who in 2008 alleged embezzlement of whale meat by research vessel crews.

The two were later charged with theft and trespassing over their obtaining of a package of whale meat at a transport depot, which they later turned over to prosecutors. They face 10 years' jail time, and their trial – with testimony from a "whistle-blower" inside the whaling industry and two whaling fleet crew members – is set to open Monday.

Sato and other activists hope to turn the event into a trial on Japanese whaling.

"The protests have to come from the Japanese public, saying 'This is a waste of taxpayers' money,' " said Sato. "We as Japanese citizens are losing so much respect from the international community on this issue, and more Japanese are starting to realize that."

Original site

Japan builds 'hydrogen highway'

Japanese carmakers, such as Toyota, are developing an affordable hydrogen car using fuel cells. Meanwhile, the government and energy companies are funding hydrogen refueling stations needed for the cars' widespread use.

Christian Science Monitor, February 1, 2010

Yokohama, Japan -- Fill 'er up -- with hydrogen.

It may still sound like science fiction to some. But Japan is taking a lead in making zero-emissions hydrogen-fueled cars a reality.

It's part of the country's aspiration to cut its carbon emissions 80 percent by 2050; nearly a quarter of those emissions come from transportation. And it's a more urgent task in a country that imports all of its oil.

Japan leads Asia in early hydrogen-car infrastructure and is a world-beater in emerging fuel cell technologies.

"Hydrogen is still in very, very early days," cautions Ashvin Chotai, London-based managing director of Intelligence Automotive Asia. "But in the area of green cars, Japan has been investing a lot further ahead than the Western companies in the last few years, and they have an edge."

Take Toyota. Last year they announced they hope to retail an "affordable" fuel-cell car by 2015. It would be next step toward what the firm calls the "ultimate eco-car," after today's popular hybrids like the Prius, the "plug-in" hybrids that just came on the market, and fully electric vehicles.

Long term, Toyota sees hydrogen-fueled cars as ideal for long-haul driving, with plug-in hybrids better for mid-range driving and electrics best for short-range commuting.

That's because fuel-cell cars have a much longer range from one fueling: more than 500 miles already, in a test run of a Toyota vehicle last year in Japan, compared to a maximum 125-mile per charge range with electric vehicles.

Building hydrogen highways

But as with electric vehicles, the biggest hurdle is a lack of power stations. "Fueling infrastructure is the joker in the whole thing," says Toyota spokesman Paul Nolasco. "You can't have fuel cell vehicles without the infrastructure, and you can't have infrastructure without fuel cell vehicles."

The Japanese government is stepping in to address that chicken-and-egg problem. It's subsidizing fuel cell development and collaborating closely with energy and auto companies to build Japan's "hydrogen highway" of the future.

The government has subsidized 13 hydrogen stations for fuel-cell cars, covering at least half of the $5 million to $6 million per station cost, according to the Fuel Cell Commercialization Conference of Japan (energy firms have ponied up the rest). It hopes to build 40 to 50 more by 2015.

Japanese energy firms are actively working together with the government to build the hydrogen car infrastructure. Tomohide Satomi, of the Fuel Cell Commercialization Conference of Japan, says such firms are looking into the future and seeing a need to develop new products as gas sales decrease.

"To survive, they have to change the portfolio of their energy supply business," Mr. Satomi says. "So they're looking to the future. They have to seek new business areas besides gasoline."

He says Japan's hydrogen highway efforts are on par with those in the United States (particularly California) and Germany, and that it leads Asia, with South Korea close behind.

Not cheap, or 100 percent clean

At one such station in a harbor-side, industrial area of Yokohama City, the Japan Automobile Research Institute's Hideaki Matsushita showed off a fuel-cell demo model from Toyota. After a test drive, the car came to rest and a pool of water puddled under the exhaust pipe.

In fuel-cell vehicles, hydrogen fuel and oxygen flow over a fuel cell stack, producing the electricity that runs the motor; the byproduct is water. It's not a 100 percent "clean" energy source: currently one of the cheapest ways to produce hydrogen fuel uses natural gas.

Producing such fuel by "electrolysis" (combining electricity and water to create hydrogen) is the Holy Grail of green vehicles, but that's an exorbitant process for now.

At the Yokohama demo station, it's clear that fuel-cell vehicles aren't quite ready for prime time. The ideal customer is a millionaire – and a bodybuilder. For safety reasons, the pumping of high-pressure hydrogen fuel requires a heavy, rugged case and nozzle. A mechanical arm helps lift the nozzle to the car for fueling.

And a typical fuel-cell vehicle goes for about $1 million, according to Sayaka Shishido, of NEDO, the government's funding arm for fuel cell and other "new energy" development projects. Toyota leases its 14 fuel-cell vehicles in Japan for a cool $9,000 to $11,000 per month, to universities and local governments.

Target year: 2015

Ten years ago, the Japanese government hoped to have five million fuel cell cars on the roads by now. Satomi said that cost and durability issues were greatly under-estimated.

The new goal is more realistic, with a focus on building the necessary infrastructure for very small-scale commercialization by 2015.

Aside from infrastructure, other technical hurdles remain. One focus now is reducing the amount of expensive platinum used in each car. Many fuel cell vehicles now use around 100 grams; the goal is to whittle that down to just 10 grams.

Toyota says it's making progress: It has doubled the capacity of its hydrogen tanks in the past year, and sharply reduced the platinum it uses per car, to under 50 grams.

NEDO is funding research on reducing costs and improving fuel-cell durability. And it's confident about its commercialization targets, because auto and energy companies are on board.

"2015 – that will be the key year for Japan," says NEDO's Ms. Shishido. "This will be the starting year for utilization of fuel-cell vehicles by the general public.”

Original site

Taiwan's killer typhoon

Investigation: Did a water-diversion project help kill hundreds of Taiwanese villagers?

Global Post, August 21, 2009

CISHAN, Taiwan — The blasts came every day, three times a day, so strong they made his house rattle.

Workers dynamited the mountain above Li Hui-ming's village over and over, as part of a project to divert water to a reservoir about 12 miles away.

On Aug. 9, around 5 p.m, says Li, the mountain hit back.

A wave of mud and rocks swept down over Minzu Village after three days of torrential rains. In the panicked aftermath, 40 to 50 people were yanked out of the quicksand-like mud by their fellow villagers. Some could only manage to raise a desperate hand above the muck; that was enough for others to grab onto and pull.

About 25 weren't so lucky. "We even heard some of them crying out for help," remembered Li. "But because they were too deep in the mud, we couldn't reach them. They were buried alive."

Such tragic tales have filled Taiwan's media in the past two weeks, as the island struggles to recover from its deadliest typhoon in at least 50 years. Another village not far from Li's, Shiaolin, was the worst hit, with nearly 400 feared dead in a separate mudslide.

The official death toll stood at 141 as of Thursday afternoon, with another 440 missing and now presumed dead. Now, as emergency relief efforts wind down, Taiwan is asking why this particular storm took such a high human toll. Island-wide, blame has fallen on the government for its slow and disorganized response to the disaster.

But in this part of typhoon-battered southern Taiwan, many displaced villagers say there's another culprit: the water diversion project in the mountains above their homes.

Li and others say the constant dynamiting, over at least two years, loosened the soil above their villages and so created the geological equivalent of a ticking time bomb. Record rainfall — almost 10 feet in just three days — was just the trigger.

"If it weren't for this project, I'm sure it [the mudslide] never would have happened," said Li. "This wasn't a natural disaster. It was a man-made disaster."

The government agency overseeing the project denies that the construction had any connection with the landslides, and said the project passed an environmental impact assessment.

But on Wednesday, Taiwan's environmental watchdog fined the water resources agency $4.5 million for failing to conduct a new impact assessment after changing the project, according to local media. And Taiwan's president — facing a political crisis for his government's bumbling relief efforts — told villagers Wednesday that two probes and a court inquiry would be conducted into the project.

Experts and environmentalists here are wary of commenting on how big a role the diversion project may have played in the deadly mudslides.

"It's a complex issue," said Sue Lin, a professor in the department of environmental engineering at National Cheng Kung University. "Nothing's impossible, but we need solid investigation, and some quantitative measurements" before coming to any conclusions, she said.

Lin and others say the project was just one of many factors that are hard to untangle. Doing just that will be a job for investigators in the coming weeks.

Much of Taiwan's mountain terrain is geologically weak and frequently shaken by earthquakes. De-forestation, improper or illegal development, and the planting of shallow-root betel nut and ginger cash crops has taken away natural anchors holding soil in place. Liao Pen-chuan, an environmental expert with the Taiwan Ecology Academy, an NGO, said all of these factors may have contributed to the recent tragedy. But he called the water diversion project a "hidden killer," and said the disaster should make Taiwan rethink its overall approach to water management.

"We have to set limits to our water usage," said Liao. "Now, people think, if we run out of water in one place, we can just go get it from another."

Such thinking creates a "domino effect," said Liao, where environmental problems caused by development in one area spread to other areas.

Taiwan has struggled to manage its water resources in recent years, amid increasingly extreme drought-and-flood cycles that some attribute to global warming. In southern Taiwan, water levels in key reservoirs have at times sunk to alarmingly low levels, even as water demand from households, science parks and other businesses grows.

The project above Minzu Village, due to be completed in 2013, hoped to address that issue by diverting more mountain river water to Tsengwen Reservoir via an extensive system of weirs, pipes and tunnels. The reservoir is Taiwan's largest, and the main source of water for the south.

Area residents teamed with environmental groups in 2004 to oppose the project, but to no avail. In this presentation, translated here by Taiwan-based blogger Michael Turton, one NGO ticks off a litany of concerns, though without mentioning the threat of landslides. Li said he and scores of other villagers went to Taipei to petition the government, but were told the project was government policy and couldn't be changed. Part of the problem was ethnic politics, said Li.

Most of the residents in affected areas are Aborigines, a non-Chinese minority (2 percent of Taiwan's population) that often suffers from discrimination and government neglect. This was just another case, said Li, of Aborigines being unable to make their voice heard — but this time with deadly results. Li also accuses the government of violating Article 21 of Taiwan's Aboriginal Basic Law by failing to consult Aboriginal communities affected by the project.

He said that most villagers, like him, blame the diversion project for the tragedy. And he says contrary to some officials' statements, the government never warned them or told them to evacuate. For their part, Minzu villagers trusted the mountain would hold.

"We never thought of evacuating," said Li. "Our land is very firm and tough, because our ancestors treasured nature, and never did any digging."

Now, nearly 400 Minzu villagers are housed indefinitely at two shelters — a Taoist temple and a Buddhist center — here in Cishan, a small town at the foot of the mountains that's become a staging point for relief efforts. Li says the villagers want a halt to the project, a probe into who or what was responsible for the disaster, and compensation. "We hope the government can help us rebuild our village, so we can go back to the way it was," he said.

Cishan resident Wu Tzu-hsien, 40, said he didn't have the expertise to say whether the diversion project helped create a tragedy. But he said Taiwan's mudslides were a cautionary tale for communities worldwide. "This kind of problem is getting more and more serious," said Wu, standing outside the temple housing Minzu villagers. "If we keep damaging nature, other places will have disasters like Taiwan's."

"It's the same all over the world," he said. "If we destroy nature, nature will destroy us."

Original site

Ma under fire for typhoon response

Critics say Typhoon Morakot is Ma Ying-jeou's Hurricane Katrina.

Christian Science Monitor, August 18, 2009

Taipei, Taiwan -- Fingerpointing has begun in earnest in Taiwan, as the island struggles to recover nearly a week and a half after its deadliest typhoon in at least 50 years.

Many here pin blame on the government, especially President Ma Ying-jeou. The disaster has become his Hurricane Katrina, with critics – including some from his own party – faulting him for poor leadership, bumbling crisis management, and a tin ear for public concerns.

"He's been hurt badly by this crisis," says George Tsai, a political scientist at Chinese Culture University and supporter of Ma's party. "He and his government turned it into a political crisis because people think he didn't show enough compassion."

Typhoon Morakot hit the island late on Aug. 7, dumping a record 9-1/2 feet of rain over a three-day period, especially on mountainous areas in the south. As of Tuesday afternoon, the official death count stood at 127, but 307 more are missing and feared dead. Damages are estimated at $3 billion.

In the mountain village of Shiaolin, some 250 people are believed to have perished when the mountainside above them collapsed under torrential rain. Survivors in that area are blaming a water-diversion project for making their communities more vulnerable to flooding and mudslides.

Hundreds of people remain stranded without food or supplies in other areas of Taiwan, cut off by caved-in or buried roads.

President Ma has been faulted for a cautious, by-the-book response. He declined to declare a state of emergency, and said the cabinet should lead the crisis response, not him. Critics say he failed to fully mobilize the military, and passed the buck by faulting local governments and even villagers themselves.

Ma has insisted that heavy rains prevented more robust search-and-rescue missions; one military helicopter crashed on just such a mission, killing three rescuers.

Ma came under especially harsh criticism for attending a wedding on the Friday the storm hit, and a baseball game Aug. 15 to throw out the first pitch.

Meanwhile, Taiwan's foreign ministry sent a cable, since leaked to the local press, instructing its representatives abroad to decline all foreign aid except cash.

Damage control

Ma shifted into damage-control mode late last week after the scope of the disaster became clear. He has made several public apologies for the government's slow response, and on Sunday, in an interview with CNN, said he would take "full responsibility."

The government also did an about-face on aid, accepting a US offer of supplies and heavy-lift helicopters that can take earthmovers into remote areas. Australia has donated water-purification tablets and other supplies, and China has sent prefabricated homes.

The extent of the political fallout remains to be seen. The deputy foreign minister, who was in charge of the ministry when the typhoon hit, tendered his resignation Tuesday over the ministry's "confusing" instructions on accepting foreign aid.

Despite calls for his resignation, Ma has ruled out stepping down for now, and says a review to be completed by early September will determine which, if any, officials should be fired.

Mr. Tsai says that if Ma doesn't win back public support in the coming weeks, his party could suffer in year-end elections seen as "midterm" test for his leadership. He may also lose political capital he needs to pass his agenda, notably a cross-Strait trade deal, says Tsai.

Water project under scrutiny

Meanwhile, residents of one disaster-hit area say a water-diversion project helped create the conditions for a devastating mudslide, according to local press reports. The head of the Water Resources Agency on Monday rejected that charge, according to the Taipei Times.

The project aims to divert water into the Tsengwen Reservoir – Taiwan's largest, and the main source of water in southern Taiwan – from an adjacent basin. The project involved dynamiting soil, which villagers say made the area more prone to landslides.

Two civil engineering experts interviewed by phone Tuesday said they didn't have enough information to assess those charges.

But both said that weather patterns had changed in the past 10 to 15 years, causing more extreme cycles of flood and drought, and that education and flood evacuation drills were needed.

Lin Mei-ling, a civil engineer at National Taiwan University and former head of the government's "debris flow" task force, said "It [the diversion project] may have been a factor, but probably not a significant one."

Intense rainfall – more than four inches per hour for a day – was probably the "major cause" of the disaster at Shiaolin, she says. Ms. Lin added that the area around Shiaolin was "geologically weak."

Lin said the government should put more emphasis on an ongoing project to map areas at a high risk of landslides. "It's difficult to fix every place – it's too expensive," says Lin. "We've already developed a system to identify potentially hazardous areas."

In a press conference Tuesday, Ma said the government would consider "red alerts" and forced evacuations for high-risk areas. "You can't really fight nature," he said. "When there's a mudslide, the only way out is to evacuate."

But Lin pointed out that a law passed after a devastating 1999 earthquake already gives the national government's emergency response center the authority to order evacuations.

In the sad case of Shiaolin, either that order was never given, or it was ignored by local authorities. Investigations in the coming weeks will likely show which.

Original site

Welcome to nuclear beach

Pack your swimsuit, sunblock and a Geiger counter

Global Post, August 16, 2009

KENTING, Taiwan — Here on Nanwan Beach, smoke-belching tractors haul jet-skis across the sand. College girls scream in terror at the approach of knee-high wavelets. And the favorite sport of young Taiwanese men? Wet sand fights.

But perhaps the most jarring sight, at least for foreign eyes, here at one of Taiwan's most popular beaches: the twin reactors of the island's Third Nuclear Power Plant.

They loom on the north side of the beach, perched on the edge of this earthquake-prone island, discharging reactor cooling water into an inlet that's popular with coral-peeping snorkelers.

Aren't locals concerned? Hardly.

Or to be more specific, "Bu pa!" (we're not afraid), said scornfully a 50-something woman hawking jet-ski rides at $30 for a half-hour spin.

"Rich people worry about that. Poor people don't," she said. "We're poor." Then, cutting our time-wasting interview short, she added: "So do you want to ride a jet ski or not?"

A 52-year-old parking lot attendant laughed when asked if the plant worries locals. "We're used to it. Anyway, it's already been built, so what can we do?"

The plant went online in 1984. "Back then, we didn't know it can be dangerous," he said. "Now we know." To date, Taiwan has a near spotless nuclear safety record. That means few here fear having their beach time ruined by a meltdown. "Maybe we've just been lucky," the lot attendant added with a laugh.

But he said the beach has changed dramatically since he was a child. Then, coral covered the shallow sea floor. "Now, they're all dead," he said. "I don't know if it's because of global warming or the nuclear plant."

I went up to Taipower's visitor center to get their side of the story. Taipower is the state-run utility that operates the island's three nuclear plants. Nuclear power accounts for about 20 percent of the island's energy generation.

Two Taipower officials rattled off a lengthy list of safety precautions. Scores of monitoring stations keep an eye on radiation levels in a 3-mile radius of the plant; during my visit the level in Kenting was 0.048 Sieverts, a standard measure of radiation ("warning" levels are 0.2 to 20 Sieverts, with anything above 20 considered an "emergency").

Fish and food are inspected regularly, and the plant reports all its data to the government. Moreover, a system installed in 2007 will automatically shut down the plant if a strong earthquake strikes (the system is triggered at 0.2 g — a measure of acceleration force — the plant itself is built to withstand forces of up to 0.4 g).

If there is a major accident, the military will help evacuate the public out of the area by bus from six evacuation points. So far, that hasn't been necessary.

"We have a good safety record," said Paul Shen, deputy director for safety at the plant, citing performance measures from WANO (World Association of Nuclear Operators).

Shen gave a few reasons. With only three plants, Taiwan simply has far fewer facilities to worry about than the U.S., which has more than 60. Additionally, an official from Taiwan's nuclear regulatory agency lives on site, meaning there's constant monitoring of the plant's safety.

The plant keeps its nuclear waste on site — both highly radioactive spent fuel rods and some 7,000 barrels of low-level radioactive waste. The barrels are due to be relocated to a more permanent site, perhaps nearby on the east coast.

Taipower officials admit that discharged reactor cooling water damaged the area's coral in the plant's early years. But they say they fixed that problem years ago by diluting the discharge with cool seawater.

Monitors now ensure the water temperature near the discharge area stays within 4 degrees Celsius of normal, and underwater cameras keep a 24-7 eye on coral near the seawater intake facility.

Instead, visitors' center manager Wu Jue-hua said current damage to the area's coral is more likely caused by hotel discharge, sediment washed down by storms, and snorkelers. Higher water temperatures due to global warming are also to blame, Wu says.

Still, Taipower officials admit that they have an image problem. That's why they opened the visitors' center in 2005. It includes hands-on exhibits that explain how nuclear power works, the plant's safety precautions, and how nuclear waste is handled. Kids come on field trips, and teachers attend seminars.

I saw kids cranking a model nuclear "centrifuge" to see how fast they could whirl it around; others were trying to pick up toy, yellow nuclear waste barrels with a mechanical pincer (a nuclear version of the grab-a-stuffed-animal night market game known here as a "wawa ji.").

Can such games convince Taiwanese kids that nuclear power's safe?

"Actually, the students who come here aren't very worried," said Shen. "Maybe they don't understand."

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Meet Taiwan's whale shark

It's the star attraction of the island's national aquarium, and a symbol of Taiwan's growing eco-consciousness.

Global Post, August 4, 2009

HOUWAN VILLAGE, Taiwan — Standing on a metal platform, Alger Liu, 26, scoops up a pile of krill, lowers it to the tank below him, and into the gaping maw of a whale shark — the largest fish on the planet.

Liu calls the 13-ft, 1,500-pound juvenile whale shark "Ah", in honor of his huge mouth (officially, the beast is nameless). After his ladel's been emptied, Liu uses it to "pet" Ah's head ("Like a dog," Liu said. "I think he likes this.")

Taiwan's only captive whale shark has it pretty good. It gets 25 pounds of krill a day. It has a doting caretaker. More to the point, it hasn't been chopped up into little pieces, stir-fried and scarfed down at a seafood restaurant.

And in two to three years' time, when Ah grows too big for his tank — say, when it's 19 to 20 feet long — the seaside National Museum of Marine Biology and Aquarium will set it free in the Taiwan Strait, Liu said.

Such treatment reflects a budding spirit of conservation among Taiwanese. Once seen as prime seafood, whale sharks are now viewed as a vulnerable species, research subject and ecotourism draw. It's a sign, too, of how younger, better-off generations have embraced environmentalism.

Whale sharks, the largest fish in the ocean (blue whales are the largest mammal), can grow up to 40 feet in length. In the wild they feed mostly on plankton, and are harmless to humans (Liu said Ah will even take him for circular "rides" around the tank).

By early this decade, Taiwanese fishermen had noted whale sharks' dwindling numbers in waters near the island, from a catch of about 270 in 1996 to just 100 in 2001, according to Joung Shoou-jeng, a whale shark expert at National Taiwan Ocean University.

A 2002 conference brought fishermen together with activists and experts for a lively debate on the way forward.

Then the government acted, instituting a fishing quota for several years before a total ban in 2008 on the fishing, sale and consumption of whale shark.

Now, flouting that ban can get earn you stiff fines and up to three years in prison. The Fisheries Agency says there's only one such case so far, in which a chopped-up whale shark was found on a fishing boat (the case is still working its way through the courts).

"At first, there were some voices of protest [against the law] among fishermen," Joung said. "But now, they accept it."

Taiwan's ban was especially important for whale shark conservation. As recently as five years ago the island was the top market for whale shark meat, called "tofu shark" by local diners for its soft, chewy consistency.

Now, experts say the ban has worked — the meat has vanished from seafood markets and is off the menu at restaurants. "It's been pretty effective," said Joyce Wu of TRAFFIC East Asia.

One reason for success: Fishermen who accidentally snare a whale shark in their nets are paid NT$30,000 (about $915) to set it free.

According to Taiwan's Fisheries Agency, 165 whale sharks were caught and released last year after the fishing ban took effect; 79 have been set free so far this year.

Researchers use the opportunity to tag the whale sharks for tracking. Professor Joung says they're now studying the shark's migratory patterns. Taiwan could soon offer whale shark eco-tours to waters where the sharks congregate, as is done already at Australia's Ningaloo Reef.

Still, the picture for whale sharks isn't entirely rosy. In Taiwan, the NT$30,000 per-shark subsidy will be phased out by the end of this year. That could swell a "black market" for whale shark meat here, Joung said.

And activists say that a global ban is what's really needed. "If we really want to have effective conservation, I think the only way to do it is to ban [whale shark fishing] everywhere," said Allen Chen, a marine biologist at Academia Sinica. Finally, some activists go farther, saying whale sharks shouldn't be kept in captivity at all. Aquariums retort that their whale shark exhibits help educate the public, which is essential to gaining support for global conservation.

In Dubai last year, a luxury hotel released its whale shark, dubbed "Sammy" by the local press, after a "Free Sammy" campaign (complete with Facebook page) drew too much negative attention.

There's no "Free Ah" movement in Taiwan; the debate is somewhat moot here, since "Ah" is the island's last captive specimen, and he's due to be released in the next few years anyway.

The U.S. boasts four whale sharks at the Georgia Aquarium. Two others, the ill-fated Ralph and Norton, died in 2007 at the same aquarium (all six were flown from Taiwan by jumbo jet). Japan has several more, and a South Korean aquarium is shopping for a specimen.

For now, Ah is the star attraction at Taiwan's aquarium, drawing "oohs" and (yes) "ahhs" from excited Taiwanese tykes every time he circles into view.

Back in his office after feeding time, Ah's keeper, Liu, admits to some second thoughts about cramping the whale shark's style.

"Whale sharks are so big, and they swim such long distances," he said. "So to put one in a little tank it's like it's doing time."

"I think it [Ah] is smart. It knows me and swims to me," Liu said affectionately. "So it's hard to make the decision — to let it go or have it stay here. I still think about it sometimes."

Original site

In our backyard? Sure.

Special Report: Why one remote Taiwan village is giving nuclear waste the red carpet treatment.

Global Post, April 19, 2009

NANTIAN VILLAGE, Taiwan — They tried sending it to North Korea. They tried sending it to China.

Now, they're trying to send it to this remote seaside village in southeast Taiwan.

Like nuclear energy-using countries worldwide, Taiwan is struggling to find a final resting place for its radioactive nuclear waste.

Strange to say, many villagers here are willing to accept the toxic duty. The reasons, according to village chief Chang Chih-hsin, and other residents: Money and development.

"Some people nearby are protesting, but here in the village, most people support it," said Chang, in an interview at the village office.

Critics of the plan say this poor village is merely being bought off by the government's generous compensation proposal, and is low-balling the health risks.

The debate highlights the growing problem of nuclear waste, as more nations — and especially, neighboring China — turn to this "cleaner" energy source to fuel their economies.

It also points to a global phenomenon. Whether it's inner-city America or a remote Aboriginal village in Taiwan, toxic and other waste often ends up dumped near the poorest, most marginalized communities.

In Taiwan, Nantian Village is about as poor and marginal as they come. Tucked between vaulting mountains and the pounding Pacific on Taiwan's southeast coast, only pokey local trains bother to stop anywhere nearby.

Of the 360 villagers, only some 10 percent have completed high school. Most grow coconuts, betel nuts and melons, in a narrow strip of cultivable land.

Three-quarters of them are Aborigines, meaning they hunted, fished and farmed here long before Chinese settlers showed up four centuries ago. Genetically, they're closer to native Filipinos.

The village consists of a strip of low-slung buildings, a crumbling community center, and agitated dogs. There's the occasional totem of the "100-pacer" snake, which the Paiwan tribe worships as a god. (The name is a reference to how far you can walk before dropping dead, after one of the venomous serpents bites you.)

Taiwan's state-run energy company has proposed storing low-level nuclear waste at a site a few miles down the coast. Exactly how many miles, the villagers aren't agreed (I touched off a heated debate when I asked).

If the plan goes ahead, it would solve a long-running headache for Taiwan's government.

Taiwan's first reactors went online in the 1970s, and it started looking for a place to stash low-level nuclear waste. The government buried tens of thousands of barrels near another Aboriginal community, on a small island about 40 miles southeast of Nantian Village.

Those Aborigines protested, forcing the government to look for another dumping ground. Starting in the 1990s, it cooked up schemes to ship nuclear waste to North Korea, China, or the Solomon Islands — only to see those plans nixed amid protests.

After years of delay, the government has now narrowed down possible dump sites to a handful of locations in Taiwan. Residents at another possible site, a small island off Taiwan's west coast, are up in arms, and "not in my backyard" sentiment is running high there.

Which makes this sleepy village the leading candidate. Over lunch, village employee Gao Yen-shi, 45, who also goes by the Aboriginal name Oranos, explained why he backs the plan.

"It can help our next generation be more competitive, and it will be great to get some money," said Oranos. "The government forgets about us down here so this is a rare opportunity."

He brushed aside health concerns, saying it was far more dangerous to live near one of Taiwan's active nuclear power plants (two of which are within an hour of the capital Taipei, and a third which sits next to a popular beach resort.)

Later, the village chief took me around to talk to other residents. A small group idled next to a nearby pig-sty, as one woman knitted an Aboriginal pattern. She chided the chief for not bringing by a bottle of red wine.

Another asked why she supported the plan to host nuclear waste, said in broken English, "I love money ... I love you money," drawing guffaws from the group.

Taiwan's Aborigines — 2 percent of the population — are the island's least advantaged, with poverty and alcoholism rates similar to those on Native American reservations in the U.S.

Villagers talk about 5 billion — the payout, in New Taiwan dollars (about $150 million) — that the power company has said will go to the county. How much of that would go directly to these villagers is still unclear.

But Chang and several villagers said the windfall could include money for retirement plans, college scholarships, even marriage subsidies.

Another villager, who did not want to be named, cited the example of Japan's once-poor Rokkasho Village. He said it saw booming development after it was picked as the site for nuclear waste disposal (though Rokkasho has had its own controversy over nuclear processing).

A female villager, 50-year-old named Saoniao, said the benefits of the plan outweighed the dangers. "Of course we think about the risks, but we also have to think about the next generation," she said.

"If there was a referendum today, I'd support it."

Powerful Opponents

But a battalion of county politicians, tourism officials, geologists and anti-nuclear activists are aligned against those villagers. They have a long list of gripes.

Nantian Village sits in a geologically active earthquake zone, and so is a dicey place to store radioactive waste, they say. They say that exposure to even low levels of radiation can cause genetic mutations, and in their printed materials raise the specter of Chernobyl.

They point out that such health risks apply to the entire area, and not just the small village that likely stands to profit most from the plan.

At an April 8 public hearing, emotions against the plan reportedly ran high, with two protesters forcibly removed by police.

The state-run utility says the plan must pass a referendum to ensure it has the support of a majority of local residents. But so far, politicians in the county council have blocked such a vote.

One of them is Hsieh Ming-chu, a long-time councilor at the county seat about 35 miles up the coast from Nantian Village. In a recent interview in the empty council chamber, she ticked off a list of objections.

She said hosting a nuclear waste dump will hurt the county's image as a source of high-quality fruits and fish, much of it exported to Japan. "Our county has so much appeal for its natural setting," she said. "Now you want to put nuclear waste here?"

Hsieh and others simply don't believe Taiwan's government can do as good a job safely storing nuclear waste as, say, Japan. "We don't trust them and they're just using money to get people to agree," she said. "That's not right."

She also laid some blame on Nantian villagers for focusing on the short-term payout, instead of taking a longer-term view.

In addition to those concerns, she said if the island moved to renewable energy sources, nuclear waste wouldn't be an issue at all.

"You don't have to use nuclear power — solar power is also good," said Hsieh. "And solar power doesn't pollute."

That touches on the broader debate of how Taiwan will feed its energy appetite. In line with global trends, the island wants to reduce dependency on oil and coal (which supply more than 80 percent of the island's energy usage), and move to cleaner energy sources.

The island is an outsized polluter: It's Asia's third-largest per capita emitter of carbon dioxide, after Brunei and Kazakhstan, according to a 2008 report from the International Energy Agency.

But technologies such as wind and solar power are still in their infancy, providing only a small fraction of Taiwan's energy needs. A renewable energy bill to boost the development of such sources has been stuck in the legislature for years.

That leaves nuclear power as an attractive, shorter-term option. Taiwan's three nuclear power plants already provide about 20 percent of Taiwan's electricity. A fourth plant is due to come online next year.

The current government wants to boost nuclear energy, in line with plans in other Asian countries (China will build 23 new reactors by 2015, South Korea plans eight more and Japan, ten more by that time).

But to do so, it will have to overturn a 2001 government pledge to make Taiwan a "nuclear-free" homeland by mid-century. And it will have to take on the island's fierce anti-nuclear movement.

At an energy conference in Taipei this week, the government and activists met for a showdown — the latest skirmish in a protracted war over nuclear power here.

But far away from the debates in fancy conference centers and council halls, Nantian Village appears to have its mind made up.

Many here want development. And they view critics' environmental concerns as something of a luxury, enjoyed by people in more comfortable places.

"Doctors, lawyers — that type of people oppose the plan, but poor people support it," said one villager, who did not want his name used. "You should most respect local peoples' opinion. We're the most affected."

"Tell people what we think here," he added.

But at only a few hundred strong, the voices of this ramshackle village look likely to be ignored — drowned out by politicians and activists a world away.

Original site