Science Corner


Hazardous Waste Conference 1993


The Role of Communities: Values to Advocacy


Special Issues in Assessing the Public Health Implications of Hazardous Waste Generated by Defense Establishments

Timothy J. Connor, Energy Research Foundation, Columbia, South Carolina.

Richland, Washington, is one of those rare American cities, like Oak Ridge, Tennessee, that was once owned and managed by the U.S. Government to house the work force engaged in construction and operation of America's first nuclear weapons production plants. Enriched uranium was refined at Oak Ridge for the bomb that virtually destroyed Hiroshima, Japan. Plutonium was produced at Hanford Works in the arid lands north of Richland for the first atomic explosion, the so-called "Trinity" test in New Mexico in July of 1945, and for the bomb that fell on Nagasaki, Japan.

Undoubtedly some people in Richland are as uncomfortable as many of us are living in a world where a growing number of nations possess tens of thousands of nuclear weapons. In Richland, however, the atom has been visibly and openly domesticated. An atomic symbol--not a crucifix or a Star of David--marks the entrance to the Sunset Gardens cemetery. High school sports teams in Richland are nicknamed the "Bombers," and yellow mushroom clouds are the emblems on the scoreboard. In 1958, top officials of the Atomic Energy Commission (AEC) attended a ceremony marking transfer of the City of Richland from AEC ownership to incorporation into the State of Washington. At the height of the ceremony, a small plunger was pushed, detonating a simulated atomic bomb. A small mushroom cloud rose into the December sky.

When a single industry dominates the economic base of a community, it cannot help but influence the social and political culture of that community. Although Richland was unusual in having the government as functioning landlord for many years, it is not unique, but is like hundreds of other communities in being mostly or partly dependent on a military facility to generate money into the local economy. Nor is it unique as a government facility in which past environmental practices complicate the government s efforts to end a military operation and return the property to civilian use (Morrison 1992). It is, however, a good example of how the combination of economic dependence and national security powers can create an atmosphere where efforts to assess the environmental and public health risks are met with anxiety, resistance, and occasionally, anger.

For more than a generation, economic and political influences exerted by Hanford s payroll were significant enough to offset any concerns about health and environmental risks associated with chemical and radioactive emissions. Persons involved with policy planning for the U.S. nuclear weapons complex referred to this as the "Halo Effect." In an August 1981 paper outlining the political hurdles to building a new generation of nuclear weapons plants, a staff analyst at the U.S. Department of Energy s (DOE) Los Alamos National Laboratory described the Halo Effect as the prospect of additional economic well-being, which for communities like Richland can be expected to more than offset any qualms about radiation exposure risk or other fears (Peaslee 1981).

Persons concerned about the weapons plants also had to consider how others might view their loyalty to the country. The connection between patriotism and nuclear weapons production was stated rather bluntly by President Reagan s first Energy Secretary, James B. Edwards, in an April 1982 visit to Hanford

The cost of being number 1 in the nuclear arms race is not very high. It s just money. But the cost of being number 2 is tragedy. . . . I don t think the mob in the streets should be setting the standards. Thank God for nuclear weapons. Otherwise we would all be freezing in Siberia (quoted in Anonymous 1982).

Although proving that the Halo Effect has resulted in public health consequences direct and avoidable injuries is difficult, we recognize that public health was not the priority it should have been. While searching a series of newspaper articles on the Hanford PUREX plant in the summer of 1984, my colleague, Larry Shook, and I discovered a telling example of how Hanford s mission had affected public health efforts. PUREX is the western world s largest plutonium processing plant and, after an 11-year hiatus, it was restarted in 1983 to help provide plutonium for the Reagan Administration s nuclear weapons buildup. Even though plants like PUREX had been operating in Hanford for 40 years, relatively few people were aware of its existence, its function, or the environmental consequences of plutonium production. As a routine matter, we arranged an interview with Dr. Herbert Cahn who was then public health officer for the two counties surrounding Hanford.

Dr. Cahn was sufficiently familiar with Hanford s facilities to understand that plutonium plants could, in the event of an accident, release large amounts of radioactive iodine. Like natural iodine, radioiodine concentrates in the thyroid gland. Health scientists advise that infants and children, who have smaller and more active thyroids than adults, are particularly susceptible to radiation damage if they ingest significant amounts of radioiodine (Shook and Benson 1988, Steele 1988). As a precaution, Dr. Cahn wanted to distribute potassium iodide tablets among his 140,000 constituents. In the event of a nuclear accident, these tablets could be ingested and stable iodine would saturate the thyroid. This would effectively block uptake to the thyroid of any radioactive iodine that might be inhaled or ingested. In 1980, he approached U.S. DOE officials at Hanford requesting that they provide $50,000 to fund the project. His proposal was received coldly. He told us

The reason was not the cost; $50,000 is a drop in the bucket for them (the Department of Energy). I think they were reluctant to admit an accident could happen. Therefore you don t need it. That was their attitude.

Dr. Cahn said that while his request was being reviewed, two ominous events occurred. The first was an invitation from his Congressman, a former Hanford scientist, to visit the district office and discuss the proposal. The Congressman, told him to stop talking about distributing iodine. The second event was a warning by a member of his health board--a Hanford contractor employee as well as a member of the Richland City Council--to drop the issue or risk being fired. Dr. Cahn dropped his potassium iodide project. As a postscript to Dr. Cahn s experience, we learned in early 1986 that Hanford s plutonium plants had routinely released thousands of curies of radioactive iodine to the atmosphere during the early years of operation (Steele 1988). Estimates of thyroid radiation dose to highest-exposed individuals ranged upwards of 2,000 rads. John Till, chairman of the technical panel overseeing the Hanford dose study, told the press in July 1990 that more than 13,000 people likely received doses of 33 rads or more, a dose he described as significant (Thomas 1990).

After months of pressure from citizens and journalists, Hanford historical records were released in 1986. These are at least a partial record of concern for internal human exposure to radioactive iodine. Although Hanford scientists did not know then what science knows now about the health consequences of exposure to radioactive iodine, scientists were clearly concerned enough about the releases to perform thousands of thyroid examinations on Hanford workers. In addition, a possible public campaign in communities surrounding the reservation was discussed to encourage use of iodized salt (Thomas 1990). More importantly, the cumulation of medical findings concerning the health effects of clinical exposures in the years following the Hanford releases (Benson 1989) only reinforced the view that the government was responsible for examining the exposure and health experiences of those who lived in the contaminated area. Not only did Hanford officials neglect this responsibility, Hanford s top manager went so far as to suggest--even after historical documents were released to the public--that "no reason to expect observable health impacts existed" as a result of Hanford emissions (Connor 1990). Yet, as one of his assistants quickly conceded, nobody from Hanford had ever tried to observe health impacts from Hanford emissions.

Again, Hanford is but one example, albeit a good one, of official indifference to environmental and public health risks imposed by U.S. nuclear weapons plants. Similar accounts, and the public anger and distrust they have generated, have been reported at several other weapons plants across the country (Anonymous 1988). Recently, top DOE officials have spoken publicly about the struggle within the agency to overcome an internal culture that resulted from historic emphasis on nuclear materials production (James D. Watkins, the Secretary of Energy, June 7, 1989). Local concerns over DOE s management priorities have occurred in context of a broader decline in public and Congressional confidence about the continuing influence that the agency and nuclear industry have over health research related to ionizing radiation (Caufield 1989). Because of growing public and Congressional opposition to DOE s dominance of radiation and health research a December 1990 memorandum of understanding (MOU) was ultimately issued. This MOU transferred management of so-called "analytic" epidemiologic research projects from DOE to the Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS).

Largely as a result of the above agreement, many current and former U.S. nuclear weapons production sites have been and will continue to be visited by federal public health officials. These visits represent a new effort to better understand historical emissions and waste management practices at these facilities and what effects, if any, they have had on public health. In addition to research to determine the consequences of historical releases, a need also exists to understand continuing and future health risks, if any, posed by releases from waste disposal sites. The timeliness and quality of this work could be crucial to clean-up efforts at U.S. weapons plants, which will be overseen by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) and state agencies regulating hazardous waste disposal.

The success of this research depends not just on health researchers gaining the information and access they need for their studies. Results of the research will inevitably be presented to a public who, in many instances, is profoundly skeptical of assurances that its questions will be answered in a substantive and forthright way, regardless of the answers. Although each site studied will likely have distinctive challenges, at least three issues are likely to be common to several sites.

1. Community Involvement Traditionally DOE has relied on public relations, rather than genuine public outreach, which has resulted in widespread appeals for substantive public participation in health research activities at DOE facilities. These appeals must not be misdiagnosed as simply manifestations of poor communication that can be cured by improved public education efforts. As important as public education is in the technically difficult area of radiation exposure and health risk, the public is becoming increasingly demanding that it participate in the decision- making process. Regrettably, many scientists regard such demands as a threat to the scientific process and are therefore resistant. However, health assessments at facilities where public mistrust is intertwined with health concerns are not just technical exercises. They must also be composed as exercises in public accountability in which views and experiences of the public are considered in developing research efforts. Unfortunately, no single approach--accepted by sponsoring agencies, health researchers, community representatives, and public interest organizations--has been implemented. Therefore, approaches must be developed and implemented before research proceeds much further.

2. Access to Information As the Hanford experience illustrates, important environmental information may be contained in historical documents which, even if their distribution is not restricted by security classification, may not be publicly available unless specifically requested from site officials. Not only must health researchers have access to data that are essentially owned by the facility being studied, but researchers must have the resources and patience to validate the accuracy of the information they are given. To the extent that data cannot be validated, researchers must clearly express this uncertainty in their findings and recommendations. Following the December 1990 MOU, DOE and DHHS established a working group to solve problems associated with access to pertinent records at DOE facilities. Not surprisingly, progress is hampered by differences in procedures at different DOE facilities, and problems with access continue. These problems are complicated becuase not all work at DOE facilities was conducted by and for DOE. At least some work was conducted under agreement with the Department of Defense and the Central Intelligence Agency--neither of which were parties to the recent DOE/DHHS agreement (DHHS Advisory Committee, 1993).

3. Coordination of Research Because U.S. weapons facilities are undergoing massive environmental clean-up efforts concurrently with initiatives to independently document and assess past radiation releases, the possibility exists for unnecessary duplication of efforts to study and protect public health.

Under the 1990 MOU, responsibility for studying off-site exposures and community health assessments was assigned to the Center for Environmental Health (CEH) at DHHS s Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). Subsequently, CEH has asssumed management or initiated such assessments at several DOE facilities, including Hanford, Savannah River, and Fernald. It also assists with state-convened studies in Colorado, Tennessee, and Florida. CEH s activities at DOE sites are focused on assessing historical releases to the environment and, when warranted, conducting follow-up epidemiologic studies.

The Agency for Toxic Substance and Disease Registry (ATSDR), a public health agency in DHHS, is also becoming increasingly involved at U.S. nuclear weapons facilities. Created by Congress in 1980 as part of federal "Superfund" legislation, ATSDR focuses its mission on preventing or mitigating human health effects resulting from exposure to hazardous substances in the environment. Although not part of CDC, ATSDR is headed by the same director as CDC.

At least on paper, ATSDR's activities at DOE facilities are much broader than those assigned to CEH. At the center of ATSDR's "Superfund" responsibilities is the requirement to conduct a public health assessment at each "Superfund" site designated on the National Priorities List (NPL) by EPA. The assessments evaluate the public health implications of the site and identify actions and further studies necessary to protect human health or better understand public health ramifications. (In addition to this requirement at NPL sites, Congress also requires that ATSDR respond to citizen petitions for health assessments at non-NPL waste sites.) ATSDR recently signed its own MOU with DOE for public health assessments and other activities at DOE sites. Among other activities included in the ATSDR/DOE agreement are health and epidemiologic studies that could be undertaken in consultation with DOE.

Given the breadth of potential ATSDR activities at DOE sites, citizen organizations are already expressing confusion and concern about which activities ATSDR will undertake and how these activities will be coordinated and evaluated in concert with CEH activities. Because public confidence is vital to the activities of CEH and ATSDR, the two agencies must coordinate with each other and, locally, with potentially affected communities.

References

Anonymous. (1982). Nuclear armaments urged. Spokane, Washington: Associated Press, The Spokesman-Review, May 1.

Anonymous. (1988). They lied to us. TIME cover story, October 31, pp 60-5.

Benson AB. (1989). Hanford radioactive fallout. Cheney, Washington: High Impact Press, pp. 23-31.

Caufield C. (1989). Multiple exposures, chronicles of the radiation age. New York: Harper & Row.

Connor T. (1990). Nuclear workers at risk. The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, September. 46(7):27.

DHHS Advisory Committee. (1993). Report on access and document declassification, presented to the DHHS Advisory Committee for energy-related analytic epidemiologic research. Washington, D.C.: Department of Health and HUman Services. April 1.

Morrison DC. (1992). Batting cleanup. National Journal, October. 31(44):2492 4.

Peaslee AT Jr. (1981). Some political issues related to future special nuclear materials production. LA-8969-MS, August, p 5.

Shook L, Benson AB. (1988). The storm of Hanford's radioactive iodine. Spokane, Washington: The Hanford Journal, Hanford Education Action League, April. p 2.

Steele KD. (1988). Hanford s bitter legacy. The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, January/February. 44(1):17 23.

Thomas J. (1990a). How much did people get? Perspective, Hanford Education Action League, Fall. 1(3):10.

Thomas J. (1990b). How much did people get? Perspective, Hanford Education Action League, Fall. 1(3):3.


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Charlie Xintaras / chx1@cdc.gov