China Hides Something Worse Than a Three Gorges Dam Collapse

On June 29, Kyoto News in Japan published a highly sensitive report. According to data released by China's National Nuclear Safety Administration, it was found that between 2011 and 2024, nuclear reactors in China experienced a total of 130 abnormal shutdowns due to critical facility failures and human error. In the same period, reports from China's nuclear regulatory authorities also showed that nuclear power plants and other nuclear facilities recorded more than 500 abnormal incidents. This does not include major nuclear contamination events that may have been concealed. When a nuclear power plant shuts down abnormally, decay heat inside the reactor core cannot be removed properly. The temperature can rise rapidly, which can lead to core meltdowns and violent hydrogen explosions. If such accidents spiral out of control, large amounts of highly dangerous radioactive material can be released at once, creating environmental disasters lasting for decades. The nuclear accidents at Fukushima and Chernobyl are the clearest examples. Kyoto News gave several cases. In June 2015, the control rod drive system at Unit 3 of the Ningde Nuclear Power Plant in Fujian experienced a full power failure. In November 2019, Unit 3 of the Hongyanhe Nuclear Power Plant in Liaoning was also shut down due to a similar issue. These abnormal shutdowns included six more serious incidents. The most prominent case was the June 2021 incident at the Taishan Nuclear Power Plant in Guangdong. On June 13, CNN reported that Framatome, which helped design the plant's two reactor units, contacted the U.S. Department of Energy a week earlier, warning of an imminent radiological threat at the Taishan Nuclear Power Plant. It also said that Chinese regulators had raised the acceptable threshold for outdoor radiation levels in order to avoid shutting the plant down. Framatome's parent company, Electricite de France, confirmed that noble gas concentrations had increased at the Taishan plant and suspected a problem with the fuel rods. However, China's National Nuclear Safety Administration initially remained silent. Later, under external pressure, it acknowledged that the fuel rods had been damaged, but denied any radiation leak. On Weibo, large numbers of trending posts accused Western media of spreading rumors. The Taishan plant is 30% owned by Electricite de France, while the majority stake is held by China General Nuclear Power Group, a Chinese state-owned enterprise. Another serious nuclear leakage incident happened 10 years earlier. At that time, multiple Hong Kong media outlets reported a leak at the Guangdong Daya Bay nuclear power station, which supplies electricities to Hong Kong, but the information was fully blocked by the Chinese authorities. Since its construction, the Daya Bay nuclear plant has experienced multiple leakage incidents. In 2010 alone, there were three incidents, all of which were concealed by the authorities. Media reports said that after the nuclear leak in 2010, officials did not issue timely or transparent notifications. Instead, they blocked all information and delayed informing Hong Kong. They also secretly paid about 100,000 local residents 1,000 yuan per month in ecological protection fees. The total amount exceeded 1 billion yuan in some estimates, with villagers saying they were still receiving payments until the end of 2014, and that they were afraid to speak out because the authorities would not allow it. After the Daya Bay incident, the China Energy Net website published an article claiming that overemphasizing safety has slowed the development of nuclear power. In 2024, the Chinese Communist Party stopped publishing domestic data on radioactive emissions. Before that decision, overseas media reported in 2024 that the amount of tritium contained in wastewater discharged from China's nuclear plants in 2022 was up to nine times higher than the annual upper limit set for related water releases from Japan's Fukushima nuclear plant. At the time, Wang Wenbin, the spokesperson for China's Ministry of Foreign Affairs, said at a press conference that the reports completely distorted the facts and misled the public. He also warned that media outlets exposing the issue should stop unprofessional and irresponsible reporting. Japanese nuclear experts responded by calling for continuous external oversight of the lack of transparency in China's nuclear policy. In recent years, the Chinese Communist Party has been rapidly expanding its nuclear power capacity. The number of operating nuclear reactors rose from 15 at the end of 2011 to 59 by the end of 2025. However, authorities have maintained strict control over the disclosure of nuclear-related incidents. Around the time Kyoto News released its report, Beijing also disclosed partial data, which was seen by some as a reluctant move under pressure. Industry insiders say public concern about nuclear power mainly comes from fears of a Chernobyl-style accident. However, they argued that compared to the roughly one percent probability of a nuclear meltdown, the far more persistent issue is nuclear waste. Radioactive contamination can last 100,000 to 1 million years. China produces about 600 tons of nuclear waste each year, and much of it has nowhere to go. They describe this as the true Achilles heel of nuclear safety. In the western part of the Hexi Corridor in Gansu Province, beneath the Qilin Mountains of the Gobi Desert, there's a company named 404. The name carries the meaning of not found. It is China's only pilot reprocessing facility for spent nuclear fuel from power reactors. The CNNC 404 company has long been shrouded in secrecy. Spent fuel, also called irradiated nuclear fuel, refers to nuclear fuel that has been used in reactors and exposed to radiation. It is usually produced in nuclear power reactors and is classified as high-level radioactive waste. Nuclear waste is divided into high-level and low-to-intermediate level categories, depending on radiation intensity. Different treatment methods are required for different levels. At present, China's nuclear waste disposal situation is extremely severe. Temporary storage facilities for solid radioactive waste have exceeded their design lifespan and are approaching full capacity. Disposal sites for low- and intermediate-level waste have remained unresolved for years, while facilities for high-level waste disposal are still far from being established. Nowhere to go. Nuclear waste has nowhere to go. Although China is now building the largest number of nuclear reactors in the world, its waste disposal infrastructure has lagged far behind. The CCP originally planned to have five regional disposal sites for low- and intermediate-level waste in the southwest, northwest, east China, south China, and northern regions. However, only three have been completed so far. The Beilong Disposal Facility in Guangdong's Daya Bay, the Northwest Facility at CNNC 404 Plant in Gansu, and the Feifengshan Disposal Facility in Sichuan. The southwest disposal site in Sichuan was originally built on a military industrial base that had been used for decades. Like the CNNC 404 Plant, its location was chosen under strict secrecy, which helped avoid major public opposition at the time. However, it is understood that Sichuan province only agreed to accept nuclear waste generated within the province. Reports indicate that at present, the only facilities actually receiving low- and intermediate-level nuclear waste are the Beilong Disposal Facility in Guangdong and the southwest disposal facility, and both are said to accept only waste generated within their own provinces. Nuclear power plants in Zhejiang, Jiangsu, Fujian, Hainan, Guangxi, and Liaoning are all in operation, so where's their waste going? According to available information, some nuclear power plants have been only operating for a relatively short time, so their on-site storage facilities are still able to cope. However, for the Qinshan Nuclear Power Plant, which has been operating for more than 30 years, its storage capacity is already under severe strain. Media reports suggest that as early as 2015, the plant's low- and intermediate-level solid waste storage facility has already reached its limit. Yet, the planned East China disposal site for low- and intermediate-level waste still has no confirmed location. It is reported that the Qingshan Nuclear Power Plant is building dry storage facilities for spent fuel to temporarily extend on-site storage time. Compared with low- and intermediate-level waste, high-level radioactive waste can remain hazardous for up to 1 million years. Spent fuel must first be stored outside the reactor, remaining in water pools at nuclear plants for 10 to 20 years to cool down residual heat. It is then transported to reprocessing facilities for recovery and solidification, and only after that can it eventually be buried underground. Most of China's earliest nuclear power plants began operation in the 1990s, and the majority of high-level waste is still stored in spent fuel pools at these plants. In theory, there is no urgent need for final disposal sites yet. But in reality, spent fuel pools at multiple plants are already approaching capacity. At the Daya plant, the spent fuel pool has already reached saturation. Since June 2013, spent fuel from Daya Bay has had to be transferred to the Ling'ao Nuclear Power Plant for handling. Another long-operating large nuclear base, the Tianwan Nuclear Power Plant, is facing similar challenges. The construction of spent fuel reprocessing facilities and high-level waste disposal sites remains one of the most serious challenges facing China's nuclear industry. If these were considered the most serious nuclear issues in China, that would already be bad enough. But it goes further. In August 2023, Japan's Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant began its long-debated plan to discharge treated nuclear wastewater into the ocean. Chinese state media responded with intense criticism and condemnation, and public concern inside China rose sharply. Sales of portable radiation detectors, known as Geiger counters, increased by more than 200 percent almost immediately. After purchasing these devices, many people began conducting widespread radiation testing on imported goods from Japan, including food, cosmetics, and other products, leaving nothing unchecked. Even a CCTV reporter traveled to Fukushima to measure radiation levels from the treated water using the same type of device. The results showed that radiation levels in Fukushima's discharge water were within normal safety limits. The International Atomic Agency also provided real-time monitoring data on its website, which likewise showed levels within safe ranges. Tests conducted by Chinese users on Japanese products also generally showed normal readings, which eased public concern to some extent. However, many people felt that since they already bought the devices, it would be a waste not to use them further, so they began more extensive testing. At that point, something unexpected emerged. Many users in mainland China reported that radiation readings inside their own homes were significantly higher than those measured from Fukushima. Tiles, construction materials, and even floors in some buildings showed elevated readings. Online discussions quickly intensified. Some users claimed that if the radiation level of so-called contaminated water was around 0.2 and Tokyo measured around 0.19, then readings in their own homes of around 3-point-something were more than 10 times higher than Japan's levels. Even more disturbing details came later. Some people went on to find data published by the China Ministry of Ecology and Environmental Radiation Monitoring Center, and the results left many people unsettled. It appeared that radiation levels in many Chinese cities were higher than those measured in Fukushima. Even more striking, the highest levels were reportedly recorded in Tibet, followed by Zhuhai. Zhuhai is known as a coastal garden city, has very few people, and limited modern industrial activity. So why would these places rank at the top in radiation levels? At this point, experts stepped in to calm concerns. They explained that the higher radiation levels in Tibet were due to high altitude conditions, thin air, and stronger ultraviolet exposure. As for Zhuhai, they said it's located in the Pearl River Delta, where the ground contains Jurassic biotite monsogranite, which includes naturally occurring radioactive elements, such as uranium and thorium. But this explanation was not accepted by everyone. Some informed observers pushed back, asking, are we really supposed to believe this? There are many high altitude regions even higher than Tibet, with thinner air, such as the Himalayas and Ladakh in India. So why don't those places show similarly high radiation levels? And granite formations rich in biotite from the Jurassic period exist all over the world, so why don't those regions show elevated readings as well? At that point, some researchers brought up two news reports from more than 40 years ago, which reopened the entire discussion. On February 8, 1984, the New York Times quietly published a report stating that European nuclear officials and industry executives had announced an agreement between a German company and China to lease nuclear waste storage space. In simple terms, a German nuclear company named Nukem Energy had reached an agreement with the Chinese government. The company would ship its nuclear waste to remote regions in China for permanent storage. In return, the German side would pay 5.45 billion US dollars in leasing fees. At the same time, China was also reportedly lobbying the governments of Switzerland and other Western European countries, encouraging them to send nuclear waste to China for disposal in exchange for payment. It is worth noting that the report used the word bid in its headline, suggesting that China participated in a competitive bidding process. Because it was a confidential tender, it was never made clear which countries took part. But the implication was that China ultimately won the contract and that its offer was the lowest. The news caused global shock. Nuclear experts reportedly were stunned. In the 1980s, China did not yet have nuclear power plants, yet it had agreed to accept European nuclear waste. Many questioned whether it had any capability to properly manage such materials. And as was already discussed, the agreement involved spent nuclear fuel classified as high-level waste. Spent fuel can remain hazardous for up to 5,000 years. During that time, anyone or anything exposed to it faces a significantly higher risk of serious illness, such as cancer and leukemia. Even more concerning, radiation can affect the DNA of living cells, potentially causing genetic diseases and birth defects that can be passed down through generations. According to the reports, the imported German spent fuel was allegedly buried in the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, an area often described as a pure land. Some online commentators accused the policy of effectively endangering China for 5,000 years. After the New York Times report, some questioned its credibility. A few days later, the Washington Post published a similar report, providing even more details. Reports state that there were three German companies involved. One was Newcombe, and the other two were reportedly Trust Nuclear and Alfred Herrhausen. The Chinese side that signed the agreement was the China Atomic Energy Industry Corporation, a subsidiary of CNNC. According to the contract, these three German companies would ship 4,000 tons of nuclear waste to China over a period of 16 years. Based on a price of 1,500 U.S. dollars per kilogram, the total payment from the German side was estimated at around 5.1 to 6 billion dollars for disposal. At the time, China's annual export volume was about 120 billion yuan, which was roughly 40 billion U.S. dollars at the 1984 exchange rate. That means the nearly 6 billion U.S. dollars paid for nuclear waste disposal was an enormous sum in that time. The reported burial site was in the barren northwest of China, in the remote Gobi Desert. The exact location was not clearly specified, only described generally as desert land. Earlier reports noted that China's first formal disposal facility, the Beilong Repository near Daya Bay, was not completed and put into operation until 2000. This means that at the time when China allegedly accepted foreign waste, it did not yet have internationally certified long-term nuclear waste storage facilities. In 1988, a British woman named Kewley traveled to Tibet. She had previously worked as a journalist and producer at the BBC. After hearing rumors about nuclear waste, she went there to investigate. She first arrived in the Ando region of Tibet, located in the northeastern part of the plateau, an area of vast grasslands and remote wilderness. There, she spent time interviewing local residents. Some residents told her that crop yields had once been good and livestock had been healthy. But in recent years, livestock deaths had increased sharply, and many animals were giving birth to stillborn or deformed offspring. She later visited a pastoral settlement in northern Ando that did not appear on maps. She stayed with a local Tibetan family. The community had over 100 residents, but in only a few years, nearly 30 people had died under unclear circumstances. Miscarriage and stillbirth rates were reportedly very high. The woman hosting her, Tsering Dolma, was 30 years old at the time. She quietly told Gilly that she had given birth to three children, all of whom were stillborn. She believed it might be her own fault and lived in constant grief. What disturbed Kewley the most was the mass die-off of fish in nearby lakes. Locals didn't eat fish and therefore paid little attention to it. But she understood that the lake system was connected to underground water sources. She suspected that groundwater contamination might be involved and that the pattern resembled nuclear pollution. However, Kewley was not an environmental scientist, and at the time there were no portable radiation detectors like Geiger counters. She also could not bring specialized equipment into Tibet, as she wouldn't have been able to pass security checks. As a result, she could not identify the exact source of the suspected contamination. Deeply shaken, Kewley returned to the UK and wrote a book titled Tibet Behind the Ice Curtain. Although it was published, it contained limited verifiable data and failed to convince many experts. Combined with pressure and influence on international media, it ultimately didn't gain significant attention. Some observers argue that after the nuclear controversy surrounding Japan, the fallout did not damage Japan's reputation or exports as expected, but instead unintentionally exposed deeper concerns within China. In addition to the Tibet region, elevated radiation levels were also reported in Zhuhai, with some link to the 2021 Taishan incident.