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Chapter 2 begins by outlining the origins and history of nuclear technology. It goes on to show how claims that nuclear fission is a low-carbon technology are false. Such claims rely on a variety of flaws, the first of which is the fact that most nuclear-emissions studies count greenhouse-gas (GHG) emissions only at point of electricity use, rather than from the entire, 14-stage nuclear-fuel cycle. By thus “trimming the data” on nuclear-related GHG emissions, proponents falsely portray fission as a “green,” low-carbon technology. In reality, once one counts GHG emissions from all nuclear-fuel-cycle stages, fission has roughly the same GHG emissions as natural gas. Another flaw with the claim that nuclear GHG emissions are low is that it fails to take into account the much higher emissions that arise from using low-grade uranium ore to create reactor fuel. Third, those who claim that nuclear GHG emissions are low are inconsistent in that they fail to apply their own logic (that we should implement energy technologies with low GHG emissions) to electricity sources (such as wind and solar photovoltaic) that are much better GHG-emissions avoiders than is nuclear power. A fourth problem is the fact that reactors generate only about 25 percent more energy, in their lifetime, than is required, as input, to the 14 stages of their fuel cycle. A fifth flaw of those who propose using nuclear energy to address CC is their failure to take account of the fact that reactors massively increase risks of nuclear proliferation and terrorism. Using atomic energy to help combat CC worsens another, and equally catastrophic, energy problem: nuclear proliferation and nuclear terrorism. A sixth flaw of using fission to address CC is failure to take account of the practical difficulties of tripling the number of global reactors. For all these reasons, the chapter shows that commercial atomic energy cannot address CC.

Iranian-Soviet relations took a turn for the worse after the Bilateral Agreement was signed between Iran and the United States on 5 March 1959. When the agreement on gas was signed with the Soviet Union in October 1965, no infrastructure was yet laid. The shah pushed the process forward, believing that unless deadlines were set, nothing serious ever happened. The NIOC was charged with preparing the ground for the agreement. Ultimately, the gas that was Iran's payment for Soviet goods and services was made available on time. The shah began to speak of petrochemicals in the early 1950s and discussed the subject rather extensively in his 1960 book, Mission for My Country. In the mid-1970s, Iran embarked on its nuclear adventure. Given the shah's prestige and money in late 1974, Ford and Kissinger decided to accommodate him on his nuclear policies, though they remained uncertain about his ultimate goals.

Chapter 1 begins by stressing the severity of climate change (CC) and showing how, contrary to popular belief, atomic energy is not a viable solution to CC. Many scientists and most market proponents agree that renewable energy and energy efficiencies are better options. The chapter also shows that government subsidies for oil and nuclear power are the result of flawed science, poor ethics, short-term thinking, and special-interest influence. The chapter has 7 sections, the first of which surveys four major components of the energy crisis. These are oil addiction, non-CC-related deaths from fossil-fuel pollution, nuclear-weapons proliferation, and catastrophic CC. The second section summarizes some of the powerful evidence for global CC. The third section uses historical, ahistorical, Rawlsian, and utilitarian ethical principles to show how developed nations, especially the US, are most responsible for human-caused CC. The fourth section shows why climate-change skeptics, such as “deniers” who doubt CC is real, and “delayers” who say that it should not yet be addressed, have no valid objections. Instead, they all err scientifically and ethically. The fifth section illustrates that all modern scientific methods—and scientific consensus since at least 1995—confirm the reality of global CC. Essentially all expert-scientific analyses published in refereed, scientific-professional journals confirm the reality of global CC. The sixth section of the chapter shows how fossil-fuel special interests have contributed to the continued CC debate largely by paying non-experts to deny or challenge CC. The seventh section of the chapter provides an outline of each chapter in the book, noting that this book makes use of both scientific and ethical analyses to show why nuclear proponents’ arguments err, why CC deniers are wrong, and how scientific-methodological understanding can advance sound energy policy—including conservation, renewable energy, and energy efficiencies.

This chapter introduces the Soviet technopolitics of the transfer of nuclear technology and expertise to countries in Eastern Europe during the Cold War. Although the Soviet Union claimed that science and technology are politically neutral subjects, the transfer of nuclear expertise specifically to East European countries engendered a distinctive Soviet plan of colonialism and imperialism in these countries. After World War II, the Soviet Union not only took hold of the Russian Empire, but also of Eastern Europe. These Eastern Bloc countries bore the brunt of colonial rule of the Soviet Union, such as a lack of sovereign power, military occupation, an economy ruled by the dominant state, and forced education in the dominant country’s language. The chapter addresses the role of science and technology “in the communist context,” nuclear cooperation among the Soviet bloc countries, Soviet colonialism in the field of nuclear energy, and the homogeneity of Soviet imperialism in Eastern Europe.

This chapter examines nine cases of peaceful nuclear cooperation that do not appear to be influenced by the supplier state's political interests: the United States' nuclear cooperation with Indonesia, 1960–1965; Brazil's nuclear cooperation with Iraq, 1980; Britain's nuclear cooperation with South Korea, 1991; Canada's nuclear cooperation with Romania, 1977; France's nuclear cooperation with Iraq, 1975–1981; Germany's nuclear cooperation with Brazil, 1975; India's nuclear cooperation with Vietnam, 1999; Italy's nuclear cooperation with Iraq, 1976–1981; and Soviet nuclear cooperation with Yugoslavia, 1956–1967. The chapter shows that three of the outlying cases are best explained by the need to sustain domestic nuclear industries; in three other cases, suppliers engaged in oil-for-nuclear technology swaps—that is, they provided nuclear technology to influence the recipient country on issues relating to oil supply.

This book explores the history of peaceful nuclear cooperation, with particular emphasis on atoms for peace and how they unintentionally become atoms for war. It tackles the use of economic statecraft to achieve foreign policy objectives and the unintended consequences of tools of international influence. It considers why nuclear weapons suppliers provide peaceful nuclear assistance to other countries and whether peaceful nuclear assistance raises the likelihood of nuclear weapons proliferation. It also examines whether international institutions have influenced the nuclear marketplace and effectively separated the peaceful and military uses of the atom. The book focuses on the Pakistani-based A. Q. Khan network—which provided nuclear technology to help Iran, Libya, and North Korea build nuclear weapons—and other cases of deliberate proliferation assistance. It suggests that policymakers should rethink some of their policies on nonproliferation and peaceful nuclear cooperation.

Next-generation nuclear technologies represent a change to how nuclear power plants are designedand the crucial role nuclear power can play in the world’s future energy mix. The authors examine the current regulatory framework for nuclear power in the United States, the birthplace of nuclear energy. That framework was shaped by concerns over release of nuclear secrets to hostile nations, focus on a single technology in light-water reactors, recognition that nuclear electric generation would be handled in the realm of monopoly control of generation, transmission, and distribution of the electricity produced, and a limited appreciation of the contribution of nuclear power to current goals of control of release of carbon gases and need to emphasize sustainability in energy supply. Recent bold innovations in nuclear technology, and legal impediments to their development, are identified. The authors identify helpful steps to make the law receptive to the new needs and technologies.

This chapter explains that along with renewables and energy efficiency, nuclear power technology has been suggested as a solution to climate change. Many civil programmes are run by countries with nuclear weapons, and in the United States, Britain, and France, the civil program initially supported the military, in particular through the production of plutonium. Nuclear waste is fundamentally different from other types of waste. Plutonium as a waste product from nuclear power stations has a half-life of around 24,000 years. If it can be used to produce electricity in new reactors, this raises the possibility that the stockpile of nuclear weapons could be rendered beyond use and turned into electricity. New nuclear power stations have all the usual sorts of costs and risks associated with such large-scale construction projects, and there are also lots of safety costs to reduce risk—much more so than with any other electricity-generating technology.

This chapter provides a global analysis of the state of nuclear power in a post-Fukushima world, discussing key motives for new nuclear development, as well as looking at issues such as safety, technical development, public opinion, and waste management. Whilst some countries (e.g. China, India, Russia) are now embracing nuclear power as a central part of their strategies for meeting demand and/or reducing emissions, others are explicitly turning away (Germany) from this technology in favour of alternatives. The chapter draws on the extensive existing literature on nuclear power, and explores reasons for these differences in approach. It focuses primarily on contemporary analysis of national and global developments, but includes a brief review of the history of nuclear power development.

This chapter illustrates the danger posed by the spread of nuclear technology. Adoption of Resolution 1665 demonstrated international recognition of this danger. In a United Nations General Assembly in 1958, Ireland's minister for external affairs Frank Aiken asked for help in halting the growth of the “nuclear club,” consisting of the United States, the Soviet Union, the United Kingdom, and France. A nonproliferation agreement offered one method of preventing the dissemination of atomic technology. In addition, a comprehensive test ban treaty (CTBT) that prevented underground tests was formulated. Despite Plowshare defenders' attempt to protect the program, opponents insisted that Plowshare tests during the comprehensive test ban talks could open the United States to charges of not being serious about stopping the spread of nuclear technology.

This book has examined how states use economic statecraft to achieve foreign policy objectives and the ways in which attempts to influence the behavior of other states can have unintended consequences for international security. It has discussed why nuclear weapons suppliers provide peaceful nuclear assistance to other countries, whether assistance raises the likelihood of nuclear weapons proliferation, and, whether international institutions have influenced the nuclear marketplace and mitigated the potential perils of atomic assistance. Using statistical tests and qualitative historical analysis, it has shown that suppliers use aid to strengthen their allies and alliances, to forge partnerships with enemies of enemies, and to prop up existing democracies (if the supplier is also a democracy). Suppliers also resort to oil-for-nuclear technology swaps when they are worried about their energy security. The book concludes by considering some of the lessons that can be drawn from peaceful nuclear cooperation within the context of international relations. It also offers recommendations to reduce—although probably not eliminate—the perils of atomic assistance.

This chapter examines how peaceful nuclear assistance to other states is used by nuclear weapons suppliers as a tool of economic statecraft to influence the behavior of their friends and adversaries. It discusses three main politico-strategic reasons why suppliers engage in peaceful nuclear cooperation: to keep their allies and alliances strong; to constrain their enemies; and to prop up democracies in the international system. It also considers three alternative explanations for peaceful nuclear assistance: countries use atomic assistance to strengthen nonproliferation norms; countries sell nuclear technology to make money; countries offer nuclear assistance to sustain their domestic nuclear industries (for example, suppliers with lower domestic demand for nuclear energy are more likely to provide nuclear assistance than states with a high domestic demand for nuclear energy).

This chapter explores the origins of the Iraqi nuclear weapons program and traces its fate between the 1958 coup d'état, the decisive ascent of the Baath regime in 1968, and Saddam Hussein's restructuring of the Iraqi Atomic Energy Commission (IAEC) in 1973. The analysis of these two highlights Iraq's nascent state capacity and management strategies that shaped the nuclear program during its initial formative stages, namely, the absence of strong leadership: the earliest nuclear weapons ambitions were articulated by scientists, not the senior leadership. As Iraq began to explore nuclear science and technology, the state lacked the institutional capacity to plan and oversee these activities.

This chapter examines whether exchanging oil for nuclear technology is a compelling motivation for peaceful nuclear assistance across a broader set of cases or whether it explains only a handful of outliers. It also considers whether there is a significant relationship between being an oil producer and receiving nonsafety assistance in developing a civil nuclear program by analyzing statistical data on nonsafety nuclear cooperation agreements against oil-producing countries for the period 1950–2000. Finally, it presents some additional qualitative evidence linking oil production and peaceful nuclear cooperation. The chapter notes important differences in patterns of atomic assistance during periods when oil prices rise substantially and suggests that suppliers are more likely to engage in oil-for-nuclear technology swaps when they are concerned about their energy security. Furthermore, the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty variable is positively correlated with nuclear assistance.

This chapter examines the Arctic Cold War and its inclusion in Allan Ginsberg's Kaddish and Nicholas Nabokov's Lolita. The first half of the chapter is devoted to Ginsberg, who first wrote the Kaddish in honour of his mother. It looks at how Ginsberg was able to identify semblances between the Distant Early Warning (DEW) Line site and the Soviet capital. The second half of the chapter is focused on Nabokov, who sexualized nuclear technology and considered Lolita as Humbert Humbert's uranium (or precious metal) and his source of radiation. It notes that victim and uranium come together in Humbert's controlled fantasies, and features the use of nuclear culture's psychoanalytic structures and dirtiest secrets.

The epilogue traces the changing approaches and attitudes to time capsules in the decades since the sealing of Westinghouse’s in 1940. The deployment of time capsules with ever-greater timespans and payloads, by corporations and space agencies hoping to showcase nuclear and space-age technologies, began to provoke skepticism by the 1970s, in particular toward the implicit hubris and “universalist essentialism” of such projects. Yet, rather than positing a decline from some golden age of the time capsule, this epilogue emphasizes its ongoing mutation and proliferation. The time capsule has become vernacularized since the 1970s as private individuals appropriated the practice, and has been further stimulated by the Internet revolution. While noting some negative tendencies of recent time capsules (such as their solipsism, their renunciation of any utopian vision or unified message, and their exploitability by corporations), the epilogue concludes by highlighting recent efforts by environmentalists and artists to reinvigorate the imaginative possibilities and political potential of this tradition.