Q: What led you to select nuclear waste disposal as the subject of a documentary?

A: The roots of this project stretch all the way back to 1992. I was producing a documentary examining the 1950s Uranium mining boom in the American West (The Atomic Stampede). A good portion of my field work for that program was done on Native American reservations throughout the region, since tribal members often served as underground Uranium miners, and several major Uranium discoveries were made on reservation lands. As I worked in and around different tribal governments, I was exposed to offers being made by the federal government to reservations to host a proposed temporary storage site for the nation's spent fuel rods from nuclear reactors. It seemed ironic that, on one hand, I was chronicling the rather devastating health consequences of radiation exposure for tribal Uranium miners, and, on the other, I was being told by several tribes that the federal government was aggressively marketing the notion that reservation lands would make good storage sites for nuclear waste. While completing the field work for Stampede I met a federal official in New Mexico who told me that a Utah reservation was emerging as a likely candidate for the nuclear storage program. That reservation belonged to the Skull Valley Band of the Goshute Indian tribe. We started tracking the interest of the Skull Valley Band back in 1993.

Q: Why not undertake a documentary on the subject back then?

Q: Did the production of the program sway you on the safety of radioactive waste storage?

A: The past year has brought an enormous amount of information on radiation safety to my desk. While some producers view it as their responsibility to reach a conclusion and convince viewers of that conclusion, I view my responsibility quite a bit differently. My job is to weigh as much information as possible, try and remove the empty, self-serving rhetoric, and present a balanced account of the information to the public.

In that spirit, there are basically two determined camps on the subject of radiation safety. The first is the nuclear power industry, which argues quite effectively that their industry has an exceptional track record in the management and storage of radioactive materials. . . especially over the last 20 years. They point out that thousands of shipments of radioactive fuels and waste have taken place in our nation, and there has not been a release of radiation as a result. The second camp is extremely suspicious of the nuclear industry's confidence and assurances. They point to incidents at Three Mile Island and Chernobyl as indicative of what can happen when human error or bad design compromises safety at a nuclear power plant. They also dismiss the safety record of nuclear waste transportation, claiming that a success rate of 999 out of 1,000 still means one potentially lethal radioactive accident that could endanger thousands.

What I personally find most compelling is the way public opinion has swerved so dramatically in the past year. In 1980, on the heels of the Three Mile Island accident, the American public overwhelmingly voiced opposition to nuclear power as a preferred energy option for the future. As a result, nuclear plant planning and licensing virtually stopped. But now, in the face of rolling blackouts in California and the prospects of sky-rocketing electricity bills, public opinion is swinging back like a pendulum to the support of nuclear power as a relatively inexpensive energy source.

Public opinion, and fear over the uncertainty of energy supplies, is a powerful force on issues such as nuclear waste storage.

Q: How did the Skull Valley Band respond to your interest in profiling their contract with Private Fuel Storage?

A: Understandably, they were suspicious. Several leaders of the Band, including the strongest supporters of the waste storage project, felt they had been burned by previous media encounters. As a result, they were not enthusiastically ready to grant full access to a public television crew. Additionally, they felt they had no compelling need to explain their agreement or plans with the people of Utah, let alone the nation. This is a deeply ingrained conviction in a people who have lengthy and legitimate concerns with the way their tribe has been treated by federal and state government.

Over a period of six months we maintained our contact with the tribal leadership, emphasizing our interest in a balanced presentation of the issues. In the end, we were able to speak with several members of the tribe about the nuclear waste project-both supporters and opponents. Our access to tribal land, however, was closely controlled.

Q: Once again your interest in history makes an appearance in the storyline of Skull Valley.

A: Unavoidable. And that may be one of the glaring weaknesses in media coverage of this issue up to this point. There has been very little thought given in media accounts of the proposed nuclear waste storage project to 150 years of history that predate the signing of the Skull Valley/PFS contract. And I believe that understanding of history is essential.

Q: Why?

A: Because the Goshute Indians suffered a very common fate 13 decades ago when their traditional way of life was forever taken from them. Yet they also are unique, in that the treaty they signed with the federal government in 1863 does not require the Goshute people to move to strange lands, nor give up one acre of traditional homeland. This is in sharp contrast to most 19th Century treaties that forced tribes out of their familiar lands to special, and often dismal, reservation settings.

In essence, the federal government recognized that the Goshute claim to their land predated the formation of the American republic. The 1863 treaty assures the Goshutes that as long as they do not interfere with overland transportation, settlements or mining, they are free to live life on their own terms. That is an assurance of sovereignty that is at the heart of the 21st Century conflict we now face.

In short, you have the Skull Valley Band on lands their people have occupied for several hundred years. They have the assurance of the federal government that their sovereignty will be honored. It makes it very difficult for state, local or even federal governments to intervene in the tribe's business dealings, as long as the dealings are viewed as legal.

From the signing of the treaty in 1863 until the signing of the Private Fuel Storage contract in 1997, the Skull Valley Band of the Goshute Indians was virtually ignored by every level of government.

Now, of course, everybody feels they have a right to express an opinion about the Skull Valley Band and its plans for economic development. Well, where has that interest been for the past 130 years?

Q: But the issue is storage of a very dangerous industrial waste. Doesn't that make a difference in justifying the state's intervention?

A: At times I have asked, 'Does it matter what is being stored?' What makes this such a compelling story is the cultural, economic and political conflict. The word "radioactive" immediately makes this an emotional issue. . .but there is far more at work here than emotion.

This crisis has been brought on by widespread failures. . .in the system, in communication and in promises.

Opponents seek to portray Private Fuel Storage as a predatory corporate behemoth, flaunting laws and disregarding public interest. In reality, PFS is only displaying a remarkable ability to negotiate a path for its interests through the gaping loopholes created by failed federal programs. PFS is only pushing a private waste storage facility because the federal government failed to deliver on its promise to have a permanent facility on line years ago. PFS is contracting with a Native American tribe that is above state controlling interests because the federal Department of Energy initially showed them the way by courting tribes as potential hosts for a storage facility. Opponents claim PFS is disregarding public safety, but the company is playing well within the rules laid down by the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. If there is a failure in oversight or proper public safeguards, the fault lies with the NRC, not PFS.

Now, does that make PFS the "good guy" in the matter? Not necessarily. They have been secretive to the point of stonewalling. Their interactions with state government in Utah have been problematic at best, and some officials claim dishonest at their worst. And, PFS has the potential for profiting mightily from the Utah venture. . .which is not bad, but reminds us that these utilities are not motivated by altruistic idealism.

The State of Utah does not have a spotless record, either. The Skull Valley Band has been pursuing this type of storage project for almost 12 years. Where was the state back in 1991 and 1992? Economic development plans might have been devised back then. Education and health programs might have made a difference back then. But a close examination of state public records shows very little initiative on the part of Utah government to work with the Skull Valley Band to provide them with an alternative to nuclear waste storage as a form of economic development. The final blow comes in February, 2001 when the state legislature defeats a two million dollar economic development package for the Skull Valley Band as an incentive for them to turn away from the PFS proposal. Tribal officials viewed that as an insulting, yet consistent, demonstration of state interest in Native Americans.

States. . .and not just Utah. . .do not have a great track record in working openly and progressively with their Native American populations to offset the ravages of poverty and disease. Local governments say it is the state's job. States say it is the federal government's job. Lots of buck passing, but little substantive progress. . .and reservations still have a poverty rate three times higher than the national average. Desperate lives can bring desperate measures for self-preservation.

And these are just a few of the issues of failure. Congress and the White House have routinely played political games over energy policy and management of nuclear waste. Eventually, it was certain to catch up with the nation.

Q: Do you have an opinion on whether the proposal will be approved by the federal government and move forward?

A: Unless there is a substantial re-working of the rules, it is a virtual certainty that this project will gain Nuclear Regulatory Commission approval. If that comes, do not be surprised to see PFS pouring concrete in Skull Valley within hours of the license being issued.

Now, those rules can potentially be re-written. Utah Congressman Jim Hansen is confident that he can get a bill through Congress designating Yucca Mountain, Nevada as the permanent storage site, and clearing that location to immediately begin accepting temporary, above-ground storage of nuclear waste until the underground, permanent facility is complete in 2010. If that occurs, it come with an expressed "congressional intent" that there be no licensing of a private waste storage facility in the interim.

The courts certainly loom as a wild card in the fate of the Skull Valley proposal. Some 18 members of the Skull Valley Band have joined a lawsuit seeking to block the project, citing financial and regulatory irregularities. The State of Utah has assembled its best shot at a legal "dream team" to do battle with PFS. But it appears their first major responsibility will be to try and defend Utah's anti-PFS laws in federal court. So, they will not start on offense. . .but as the defendant in a case. And PFS has some of the best utility lawyers in the nation calling its shots and devising strategy. They have taken advantage of every weakness or gap in federal and state laws to advance this project, and certainly loom as a formidable opponent in any court setting.

And we can never lose sight of the politics that may be brought to bear.

This battle is far from over. Time remains for heroic stands and surprising changes in the landscape that can alter the outcome of the conflict.

But, at this point in the summer of 2001, I will not be surprised if high level nuclear waste starts being shipped into Utah in the next two years.

Q: That is a sobering thought.

A: And one entirely of our own making. There is a high degree of personal responsibility in public issues like this. Whether its in the form of our unrestricted use of energy. . .or in our decision not to
become engaged in public debate over issues. . .or in our reluctance to hold elected officials responsible. As one federal energy official told me, off the record:

"We want it all. The lights on all night. The air conditioner set at 70 degrees. One person in each car. And we want it all as cheap as possible. And we want no nuclear plants because of radiation. . .no hydro plants, because they dam the rivers. . .no coal-fired plants because of the greenhouse effect. And most politicians say "Sure, anything you want." Such a world can not be sustained. Sooner or later, the delayed decisions come around and bite you. . .hard."

This nation is at a crossroads. How we address the energy
crisis. . .how we even choose to identify the energy crisis. . .is going to shape the world our children and grandchildren will live in. The decisions related to Skull Valley will be made against this highly-charged, emotional and even desperate social, political and economic landscape.

Q: What is next for you?

A: I'm already at work on a documentary portraying the little-understood story of Utah's role in the completion of the transcontinental railroad in 1869. Most people think the state's role begins and ends with the famous photograph of the two engines meeting at Promontory Summit. Actually, the business and political deals behind the scenes are fascinating. . .and, when all was said an done, the transcontinental railroad transformed Utah more than any other location in the nation. It's a great chapter from our state and national history. . .and we hope to bring it out coincidental to the 2002 Winter Olympics. It's interesting. The Olympic theme has unofficially been "The World Is Welcome Here." Yet the first time those were offered as Utah's watchwords was back in the 1860s, during construction of. . .that's right, the transcontinental railroad.