Japan’s crisis and the anti-nuclear backlash

Germany and Switzerland suspend plans to build new power stations. Will others follow?

The nuclear crisis in Japan continues to get worse. After an explosion at reactor 2 at the Fukushima power station and a fire (now extinguished) at reactor 4, radiation from the plant has reached harmful levels. Everyone within 30 kilometres of the danger zone has been told to stay indoors, and a no-fly zone has been imposed around the power station.

The prime minister, Naoto Kan, has warned: "Radiation has spread from these reactors and the reading of the level seems high . . . There's still a very high risk of further radioactive material coming out." The plant's operator, the Tokyo Electric Power Co, reported dose rates of up to 400 millisieverts per hour – eight times the legal limit for exposure in one year.

But as several scientists have reminded us this morning, this is not another Chernobyl. The four damaged reactors at the Fukushima plant were shut down automatically when the earthquake was detected. In Chernobyl, by contrast, the reactor exploded while operating at full temperature, with the result that far greater levels of radioactive material were released.

Despite this, the Fukushima accident has already prompted a rethink in several European countries not renowned for their large earthquakes. In Germany, Angela Merkel, who reversed the popular SPD-Green pledge to phase out nuclear energy by 2022, has announced a "three-month moratorium" on plans to renew 17 power stations. In other words, the Japanese catastrophe has provided Merkel with the political cover necessary to drop an extraordinarily unpopular policy (88 per cent of the public want all plants closed).

Germany isn't alone. Switzerland, another country not known for its high levels of seismic activity, has suspended the approvals process for three new nuclear power stations.

In Italy, where large earthquakes are more common, plans to introduce nuclear energy by 2013 are now in doubt. But it's notable that the US, where eight plants are located on the earthquake-prone West Coast, has offered a robust defence of nuclear power. Yet as the New York Times noted: "most of the nuclear plants in the United States share some or all of the risk factors that played a role at Fukushima Daiichi: locations on tsunami-prone coastlines or near earthquake faults, ageing plants and back-up electrical systems that rely on diesel generators and batteries that could fail in extreme circumstances."

Given the uncertain outcome of events in Japan, other countries, including Britain, are suspending judgement. The twin challenges of energy security and climate change have bolstered the case for nuclear power in recent years. The long-term consequences of any decision to change course deserve serious consideration.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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What David Hockney has to tell us about football

Why the sudden glut of blond footballers? A conversation I had with the artist back in 1966 gave me a clue. . .

In 1966, I went to interview David Hockney at a rather run-down flat in Bayswater, central London. He was 28 and had just won a gold medal at the Royal College of Art.

In his lavatory, I noticed a cut-out photograph from a newspaper of Denis Law scoring a goal. I asked if he was a football fan. He said no, he just liked Denis Law’s thighs.

The sub-editors cut that remark out of the story, to save any gossip or legal problems. In 1966 homosexual activity could still be an offence.

Hockney and a friend had recently been in the United States and had been watching an advert on TV that said “Blondes have more fun”. At two o’clock in the morning, slightly drunk, they both went out, bought some hair dye and became blond. Hockney decided to remain blond from then on, though he has naturally dark hair.

Is it true that blonds have more fun? Lionel Messi presumably thinks so, otherwise why has he greeted this brand-new season with that weird blond hair? We look at his face, his figure, his posture and we know it’s him – then we blink, thinking what the heck, does he realise some joker has been pouring stuff on his head?

He has always been such a staid, old-fashioned-looking lad, never messing around with his hair till now. Neymar, beside him, has gone even blonder, but somehow we expect it of him. He had foony hair even before he left Brazil.

Over here, blonds are popping up all over the shop. Most teams now have a born-again blondie. It must take a fortune for Marouane Fellaini of Man United to brighten up his hair, as he has so much. But it’s already fading. Cheapskate.

Mesut Özil of Arsenal held back, not going the full head, just bits of it, which I suspect is a clue to his wavering, hesitant personality. His colleague Aaron Ramsey has almost the full blond monty. Paul Pogba of Man United has a sort of blond streak, more like a marker pen than a makeover. His colleague Phil Jones has appeared blond, but he seems to have disappeared from the team sheet. Samir Nasri of Man City went startlingly blond, but is on loan to Seville, so we’re not able to enjoy his locks. And Didier Ndong of Sunderland is a striking blond, thanks to gallons of bleach.

Remember the Romanians in the 1998 World Cup? They suddenly appeared blond, every one of them. God, that was brilliant. One of my all-time best World Cup moments, and I was at Wembley in 1966.

So, why do they do it? Well, Hockney was right, in a sense. Not to have more fun – meaning more sex – because top footballers are more than well supplied, but because their normal working lives are on the whole devoid of fun.

They can’t stuff their faces with fast food, drink themselves stupid, stay up all night, take a few silly pills – which is what many of our healthy 25-year-old lads consider a reasonably fun evening. Nor can they spend all their millions on fun hols, such as skiing in the winter, a safari in the spring, or hang-gliding at the weekend. Prem players have to be so boringly sensible these days, or their foreign managers will be screaming at them in their funny foreign accents.

While not on the pitch, or training, which takes up only a few hours a day, the boredom is appalling, endlessly on planes or coaches or in some hotel that could be anywhere.

The only bright spot in the long days is to look in the mirror and think: “Hmm, I wonder what highlights would look like? I’ve done the beard and the tattoos. Now let’s go for blond. Wow, gorgeous.”

They influence each other, being simple souls, so when one dyes his hair, depending on where he is in the macho pecking order, others follow. They put in the day by looking at themselves. Harmless fun. Bless ’em.

But I expect all the faux blonds to have gone by Christmas. Along with Mourinho. I said that to myself the moment he arrived in Manchester, smirking away. Pep will see him off. OK then, let’s say Easter at the latest . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times