Sofia Berinstein

Apr 032012
 

I first saw Werner Hertzog’s Lessons of Darkness as a 14 year old around 2000. The Kuwait war was something I had never been formally introduced to, or at least it hadn’t been something that I had remembered, if it was mentioned in my curriculum or at the time of its duration. I think I might have been Herzog’s perfect viewer, fascinated, horrified, unable to believe that this had really happened. In reviews I have read this is referred to as a sense of alienation that is created by the decontextualized photography and narration, the apocalyptic romanticism that Hertzog espouses. The power of the film is difficult to dismiss, although it looses some of its power as it is contextualized by the type of information that we use to understand such events; the nations that act, the reason for the initial drilling, the conflicts and reasons behind the physical events. I am not persuaded by the arguments that the film is corrupt because of it’s aestheticization of this violence. Perhaps from the perspective of someone who knew of the oil fields and had been introduced by the BBC, rather than by Herzog, would see this information recast into the guise of this alien documentary and have such a reaction, but to someone without that knowledge, the style of the film serves an indispensible role in its power. It was the trance of vision without full knowledge that made my first viewing unforgettable. I wonder if anyone else in the class has a different first experience?

 

This is some information that I am in the process of analyzing in order to draw a more detailed picture of the man made and natural causes of the nuclear meltdown. I would like to share it, since this information has been mentioned but not frequently examined in the media.

1967: Changing the layout of the emergency-cooling system, without reporting it
On 27 February 2012 NISA ordered TEPCO to report by 12 March 2012 about the reasoning to change the layout for the piping for an emergency cooling system from the plans originally registered in 1966 before the reactor was taken in operation.
After the plant was hit by the tsunami, the isolation condenser should have taken over the function of the ordinary cooling pumps, by condensing the steam from the pressure vessel into water to to be used for cooling the reactor. But the condenser did not function properly, and TEPCO could not confirm whether a valve was opened.
In the original papers submitted – in July 1966 – for government approval of the plans to set up the reactor, the piping systems for two units in the isolation condenser were separated from each other. But in the application for the construction plan of the reactor – submitted in October 1967 – the piping layout was changed by TEPCO, and the two piping systems were connected outside the reactor. The changes were not reported in violation of all legal regulations. [44]
1976: Falsification of safety records by TEPCO
The Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power complex was central to a falsified-records scandal that led to the departure of a number of senior executives of TEPCO. It also led to disclosures of previously unreported problems at the plant,[45] although testimony by Dale Bridenbaugh, a lead GE designer, purports that General Electric was warned of major design flaws in 1976, resulting in the resignations of several designers who protested GE’s negligence.[46][47][48]
In 2002, TEPCO admitted it had falsified safety records at the No. 1 reactor at Fukushima Daiichi. As a result of the scandal and a fuel leak at Fukushima, the company had to shut down all of its 17 nuclear reactors to take responsibility.[49] A power board distributing electricity to a reactor’s temperature control valves was not examined for 11 years. Inspections did not cover devices related to cooling systems, such as water pump motors and diesel generators.[50]
1991: Back-up generator of reactor nr. 1 flooded
On 30 October 1991 one of two backup generators of reactor nr. 1 did fail, after it was flooded in the basement of the reactor buildings. Seawater used for the cooling of the reactor was leaking into the turbine-building from a corroded pipe at a rate of 20 cubic meters per hour. This was told by former TEPCO employees to the Japan Broadcasting Corporation news-service in December 2011. An engineer told, that he informed his superiors about this accident, and that he mentioned the possibility that a tsunami could inflict damage to the generators in the turbine-buildings near the sea. After this TEPCO did not move the generators to higher grounds, but instead TEPCO installed doors to prevent water leaking into the generator rooms. The Japanese Nuclear Safety Commission commented that it would revise the safety guidelines for designing nuclear plants and would enforce the installation of additional power sources. On 29 December 2011 TEPCO admitted all these facts: its report mentioned, that the emergency power system room was flooded through a door and some holes for cables, but the power supply to the reactor was not cut off by the flooding, and the reactor was stopped for one day. One of the two power sources was completely submerged, but its drive mechanism had remained unaffected.[51][52][53]
2006: The Japanese government opposes a court-order
In March 2006 the Japanese government opposed a court order to close a nuclear plant in the west part of the country over doubts about its ability to withstand an earthquake. Japan’s Nuclear and Industrial Safety Agency believed it was “safe” and that “all safety analyses were appropriately conducted”.[54]
2007: Tsunami-study ignored
In 2007 TEPCO did set up a department to supervise all its nuclear facilities, and until June 2011 its chairman was Masao Yoshida, the chief of the Fukushima Daiichi power plant. An in-house study in 2008 pointed out that there was an immediate need to improve the protection of the power station from flooding by seawater. This study mentioned the possibility of tsunami-waves up to 10.2 meters. Officials of the department at the company’s headquarters insisted however that such a risk was unrealistic and did not take the prediction seriously.[55]
2008: Seismic-concerns
In addition to concerns from within Japan, the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) has also expressed concern about the ability of Japan’s nuclear plants to withstand seismic activity. At a meeting of the G8′s Nuclear Safety and Security Group, held in Tokyo in 2008, an IAEA expert warned that a strong earthquake with a magnitude above 7.0 could pose a “serious problem” for Japan’s nuclear power stations.[56]
2011: Results of Governmental Investigations
On request of the Japan Broadcasting Corporation, on 2 October 2011 the Japanese Government released a report of TEPCO to NISA. These papers proved that TEPCO was well aware of the possibility that the plant could be hit by a tsunami with waves far higher than the 5.7 meters which the plant was designed to withstand. Simulations done in 2008, based on the destruction caused by the 1896-earthquake in this area, made it clear that waves between 8.4 and 10.2 meters could overflow the plant. Three years later the report was sent to NISA, where it arrived on the 7 March 2011, just 4 days before the plant was hit by the tsunami. Further studies by scientists and an examination of the plant’s tsunami resistance measures were not planned by TEPCO before April 2011, and no further actions were planned to deal with this subject before October 2012. TEPCO official Junichi Matsumoto said that the company did not feel the need to take prompt action on the estimates, which were still tentative calculations in the research stage. An official of NISA said that these results should have been made public by TEPCO, and that the firm should have taken measures right away.[57][58]
This all was in sharp contrast with the events at the Tōkai Nuclear Power Plant where the dike around the plant was raised to 6.1 meters after evaluations showed the possibility of tsunami-waves higher than previously expected. Although the dike was not completely finished at 11 March 2011, the plant could ride out the tsunami, even though the external power-sources in Tokai were lost too. With two (of three) functioning sea-water-pumps and the emergency diesel-generator the reactor could be kept safely in cold shutdown.[59]
On 26 November a TEPCO spokesman mentioned that TEPCO would have been better prepared to cope with the tsunami in March 2011, if it had taken the 2008-study more seriously. TEPCO was also willing to use the estimates of renewed study done by a national civil engineering society for its facility management.[55]
Nuclear Safety Commission Chairman Haruki Madarame told a parliamentary inquiry in February 2012 that “Japan’s atomic safety rules are inferior to global standards and left the country unprepared for the Fukushima nuclear disaster last March”. There were flaws in, and lax enforcement of, the safety rules governing Japanese nuclear power companies, and this included insufficient protection against tsunamis.[60]

Response to Aftershocks

 Posted by Sofia Berinstein on March 13, 2012
Mar 132012
 

Reading the recalled memories of the moment of the earthquake, I feel the only way to react is to tell another story. There is very little here to interpret or question, and I wish that I had my own story to tell to convey my understanding. I’ve never experienced an earthquake, not a tornado or a flood. Heavy snow, tropical storms are really the only natural ferocity that I’ve ever experienced, but these things were not accompanied by fear. I want to understand what the fear of a an earthquake is, but I feel too distant from the emotions of the storytellers to understand fully. 

In some ways the tone of the stories remind me of the narratives I would hear in the weeks and months that followed 9/11. During the time of the disaster I felt very disturbed at the incoherence of the responses from my peers and the way in which the events of the day did’t yet have names. Because of this namelessness, we couldn’t speak to each other with the shared understanding in which we alway had spoken about second hand disasters. The storytelling was of course a process of constructing the names and contexts of that we needed to communicate about the situation. It seems that this collection of stories of the 3/11 earthquake is a similar attempt to build shared understanding. It also may bear some resemblances to that memory of mine because the nature of the disaster was multiple catastrophes, as was 9/11.

Thus, it seems like this collection is most meaningful to those who survived or had concurrent experiences either in Japan or with other earthquakes. There isn’t any form more powerful that the sharing of personal stories in order to understand a disaster. I am struck by the universality of this form of communication, as well as the honesty to the fact that this is the scale on which it is experienced and comprehended, by the emotions first, and the communication and absorbition of media second.

A question for me is In what ways is this form of storytelling universal? What similarities exist between modes of recounting disaster in order to build it a cultural context and identity?

My thoughts on Distant Suffering

 Posted by Sofia Berinstein on March 6, 2012
Mar 062012
 

I find the models of spectators that Boltanski describes, very apt for understanding the various characters we assume as we contemplate the tragedies of others. What I don’t yet understand is how these characters are related to particular contexts and circumstances. It seems that there are different versions of the ideal spectator according to the norms of different cultures, some of which have elaborate rituals of ethical posturing, and other which are more straightforward. This seems to be very similar with other traditions of etiquette. In certain subcultures that I have encountered, the expectation of what character to embody is different, for example I might be expected to vocalize concern to a group of my Grandmother’s friends, whereas with my own peers, silence is a better way of communicating sympathy.

I appreciate Boltanski’s characterization of the necessity of a clearly established point of view in any representation of the event, neutrality being akin to cruel disregard. I wonder what it would be like if other spheres of conversation had the same sort of prohibition on description with a seeming lack of point of view. This is particularly true when it comes to the human body. And I would offer the addition point that the reason for this repulsion towards a realism when it comes to the human body is about our sensitivity to the recognition of individual people. Often disasters are spoken about from the perspective of vast groups. Because the significance of these events is correlated to the number of people who are affected by the disaster, the individual is often the last relevant topic, instead, articles concern millions of dollars worth of damage or number of casualties.

Another question this raised for me is whether the balancing of forces, of description vs. personal sentiment or indignation vs. tenderheartedness, might be put out of balance by changes in the distance between tragedy and spectator due to evolving media and technology. I assume that Boltanski is talking about a scenario with internet and telephone, that facilitates the distance of knowledge. Where things considerably different before faster communication over distances? Now that more intensive means of intervention through networking are possible, does this change the obligations of the good samaritan?

 

In trying to figure out the relationship between human need for energy and natural disaster, there are many different conceptions of the relevant narrative. I searched the words “energy” and “natural disaster” to try to get an idea of the most prevalent narratives. Last week I found myself advocating the causal story as “the need for energy begets natural disaster” (in light of our need to construct energy creating structures that are then succeptible to natural cycles) or “the coincidence of human construction and natural geologic and meterologic cycles leads to human disaster”. This conception is not very similar to the popular narative. Here are the summarized theses of the top 7 google stories for this search:

Natural disaster endangers energy systems

Energy systems are not a luxury

Tsunamis are not related to climate change

Renewable energy may endanger the enviroment
i.e. japan

Japan endangers hopes for renewable energy

We need to research natural disaster for the sake of scientific understanding of climate change and and consider the implications for national security.

 

On the need to create Mythologies to explain natural phenomena, or perhaps to explain man made phenomena:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-1365225/Japan-earthquake-tsunami-Did-supermoon-cause-todays-natural-disaster.html

Reading this article it seems that whether or not it is possible to determine the root cause of a disaster, the levels of abstraction that need to be navigated are an obstacle that poses a threat to the narrative of the mythology. This article is an example of an attempt to bypass the complexity of the causal story behind the recent Japanese disaster. By using a pseudoscientic reason, the speculators are able to contemplate the cause of the disaster as entirely unrelated to human activities. Even the natural cause of an earthquake, or a tsunami itself, is too close to human causes, because our actions are seen as linked to the welfare of the earth, due to global warming, as I will show later based on some google search results. If we place the blame on the Moon rather that the Earth, then perhaps we can be fully absolved of responsibility, or so this article seems to convey.

 

 

Update on Project

 Posted by Sofia Berinstein on March 6, 2012
Mar 062012
 

Thoughts on Disaster

 Posted by Sofia Berinstein on February 14, 2012
Feb 142012
 

One home, routine, and family is the material instantiation of an individual life, and the disaster is when this small reality is taken over or destroyed by a much larger, more urgent exigency. The biggest unit of disaster is the life of a single person. Although the scale of the disaster might be hundreds or thousands of lives (both in the sense of human death, and the survival of a human but the loss of the life he has built) the suffering of a single person is the greatest increment of pain. In this sense, small disasters are equally brutal.

I sympathize with Donguk’s interpretation of the human-dependent nature of disaster. While from an internal perspective, particularly that of the individual, a disaster is something that happens to a person, an event outside of ones direct control which subsumes the individual realities that we build around ourselves, from an external or objective perspective, there is no such thing as a disaster, simply an unfolding of regular physical events. Disaster is a human construct that could not exist in the absence of our normative understanding of our environment.

From an external, objective perspective, the disaster is part of a cycle. The destruction is the erasure of a smaller, more frequent cycle, with that of a larger, less frequent one. People, by necessity, build their lives on the basis of cycle that is observable on the time scale human life, although this may vary from less than one to several generations. However there is always a longer cycle that may disrupt this pattern. The material culture of humanity, shelter, property, food and family are dependent on the cycle on which they are figured – we know that the land is stable, so we build, we know where the edge of a river runs, so we build near enough to use it’s water. These deeply logical decisions are nevertheless undermined by the natural occurrence of earthquakes and floods.
Cyclone Yasi and a 383 year Supernova

 
Frozen Animals on the Steppe


In the winter of 2010, herders in central mongolia faced an animal famine crisis within the slow moving disaster of desertification. That winter about 8.5 million herd animals, goats, sheep, and cattle froze to death in up to -58 degree fahrenheit temperatures. The animals are a crucial food source as well as frequently the sole wealth and economic engine for herders in the region. As in the Minamisanriku tsunami and nuclear disaster in the Spring of 2011, this crisis is a hybrid of natural and man made origins.

Desertification is the process of the degredation of plant life on the steppe, the grassland plain that provides the nutrition for herd animals. A combination of climactic change, overgrazing, and deforestation is gradually pushing the Gobi desert into the homeland of nomadic herders. A dry summer and cold wet winter in 2010 tipped the fragile ecosystem into disaster. Without proper nutrition and hydration, the animals entered the brutal winters on the steppe without the fat and strength to survive the 8 month winter.

The Mongolians have a  term “dzud” which refers to the combination of summer drought and severe winter that hardens snow and ice into an impenetrable layer and makes it impossible for livestock to feed. Like the Japanese, Mongolians know the particular risks of the region in which they live, and yet this isn’t sufficient to prevent the economic activity of grazing (in Japan, fishing) that makes them prone to disaster. In Mongolia the economic growth that came out of independence from the Soviet Union precipitated the 40% growth in livestock that precipitated the crisis. As in Japan, the risk is as high as ever that another round of dry summer and wet winter will initiate another crisis of potentially even greater magnitude.

Sky News Coverage

Further Images