very technology has room for error except one. Nuclear power does not forgive mistakes. It does not bend to political pressure, procurement shortcuts or cultural habits.
That is why the first question in nuclear policy is not technological, it is ethical. Should any society marked by massive, pervasive and prevailing corruption ever attempt to build and operate a nuclear power plant? The answer is simple. It should not. Not until the culture around it is clean enough to meet the standard of discipline which nuclear safety demands.
Indonesia, where corruption remains rampant, has decided to go nuclear. State electricity company PLN’s business plan allocates two 250 MW nuclear plants in Sumatra and Kalimantan, with operation set for 2030-2032. However, the national roadmap targets a total capacity of 35 GW by 2060, a scale requiring over 30 land-based reactors.
Societies with weak governance often operate hazardous infrastructure like petrochemical plants and refineries despite the risks. This leads to a misleading conclusion: If these systems can operate, why should nuclear power be treated differently?
The difference is consequence. A chemical explosion or aviation failure, while tragic, affects a limited geography. Land remains usable, future generations do not inherit the damage.
Nuclear accidents break this boundary. They turn operational failures into long-lasting environmental consequences that can redraw maps and displace communities for generations.
This is not to suggest nuclear technology has no place in modern energy planning. Modular reactors may work for specific industrial uses where demand is stable.