On Fears of Fukushima

I was thinking about what I wanted to write here today, since I hate missing a month on this blog even though I've done it before and will likely do it again. I've been talking myself in and out of writing about the situation at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant in Japan, but I wasn't sure what I was going to say about it. After all, it's been nearly three weeks since the earthquake and tsunami rattled that region of the world, and most of what can be said has been said already — and a lot of it by people more qualified to say it than myself.

Nevertheless, I got a little bit upset watching ABC World News this evening. The first four minutes were all about fears that fractions of trace amounts of radioactive iodine have been found in milk supplies in California and Washington... fears that are entirely overblown.

Even though the associated article is entitled "Radiation Levels in West Coast Milk 5,000 Times Lower Than Danger Threshold", from watching the main story presented in the newscast you'd think levels were 5,000 times higher than the threshold. Go ahead and watch it yourself. Of course, at the end, they bring in their medical expert to assure the public milk is safe, but all the while they're playing up the fact that the nation is abuzz about this dire situation, making very little mention that it isn't dire at all. Especially not here in the United States.

Now I don't claim to know everything about nuclear power, but considering I took several classes on it and even helped teach one, it was frustrating seeing something which I know isn't a big deal being blown out of proportion in the mass media. How many people who saw that report are thinking, right now, "I'd better avoid giving milk to my kids until this blows over"? At what cost to our collective public health? Do the benefits outweigh the risks?

In this particular case... probably not.

Astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson managed to put many of these fears in perspective this morning with a sobering tweet entitled "Causes of death worldwide in March 2011." He noted that while 3,000,000 died of starvation, 250,000 of Malaria, and 100,000 in car crashes, less than 28,000 have died in the aftermath of the 11 March earthquake and tsunami. (I would even go so far as to point out that there have been no deaths related to the so-called "nuclear crisis" at Fukushima Daiichi.)

Yes, there is potential for much worse to happen from the reactors at Fukushima Daiichi. But it's important to remember that there is potential for worse in anything. Work is being done around the clock to protect public's health, safety, and well-being. And while there will always be disagreements on how the specifics are handled (we're only human), we must remember that it is because this work is being done — diligently, tirelessly — that a true nuclear crisis is being averted.

We must remember that, even without the fear of radiation, there are already hundreds of thousands of people in Japan whose lives have been directly affected by the 11 March earthquake and tsunami. And while remembering that, we must guard ourselves from the easy fear of the "unknown" by educating ourselves with facts whenever we can.

And in the age of the Internet, there's really no excuse anymore for not having the facts.

If you're on Twitter, consider this a "Follow Friday" (even though it's still Thursday for a little while longer). Countless organizations have been diligently sifting through conflicting reports and cutting through the media hype, but the ones I've found the most useful in the past three weeks are (in no particular order) @ans_org, @W_Nuclear_News, @neiupdates, @iaeaorg, and @NuclearStreet. All have provided timely updates, presenting the data clearly and concisely and providing context, despite the difficulties that arise when trying to put radiation figures into perspective.

If you're not on Twitter, you can get updates from ANS Nuclear Cafe's Fukushima page, World Nuclear News' Fukushima portal, and the Nuclear Energy Institute's Fukushima page.

In short, there's really nothing to be worried about. But you have to prove it to yourself.

P.S.: There's no way in hell I'm attempting BEDA this year. More on that later.

Ten Years Later

On the morning of 3 February 2001, my great uncle, Michael L Troiano, passed away at the age of 66.

It's difficult to get a grasp on all that has happened in my life and the lives of those around me since Great Uncle Mike, or "GUM" as I came to know him, left us. Obviously, the first week or so was the roughest for me. But there have been countless ups and downs over the last ten years. Somehow, demarcating ten years from this point seems more significant than arbitrarily demarcating a decade according to the calendar.

I'm almost positive the last time I saw GUM was for Christmas 2000; I was 12, going on 13. Gosh, when you put it like that, it's scary. And here I sit in 2011, a 23-year-old. I honestly can't begin to fathom what percentage of the things I think about in day-to-day life — my ambitions and desires, my worries and fears, my hopes and dreams — were even part of my conscious existence when I was 13. Simply put, so much has changed.

GUM, even though you were affectionately known as everyone's "Uncle Mike," you'll always be my "Uncle Mike." Life isn't quite the same without you, but it is in part because of you that things have turned out as great as they are. And while I still remember old memories of you fondly, I can't wait to share my newer ones with you someday.

1/11/11

Today was 1/11/11. A "numerical somersault" of sorts. I've mentioned before that our dating system is quite arbitrary, but it was still notable.

In fact, at 11:11:11 today, I noted that the date and time (at least in its most common format) wasn't just comprised entirely of ones, but that there were 11 ones. Now, if that isn't cool, I don't know what is.

I hope everyone enjoyed writing the date today and assure you there will be more meaningful stuff on this blog soon.

Twenty-Three

I just turned twenty-three years old. This may not seem terribly important, but as anyone who knows me well can attest, 23 has been my favorite number for a long while.

First things first, though. As it turns out, I didn't ever write about my twenty-second birthday like I said I would. But, as 2010 was a rough enough year, I'm going to have to apologize and forgive myself for that. As I will have to do for a lot of other things. (Especially this blog. How've you been, ol' bud?)

But anyway, Tuesday started out well enough. I woke up rather earlier than normal, and grabbed a Dr Pepper (full of its "23 flavors"), ready to enjoy the day. David was getting ready to head back to Pitt, packing the final things just before leaving for his orthodontist appointment which awaited him on the way.

This somewhat euphoric anything-can-happen feeling, however, was quite shortlived for a number of reasons I'd rather not get into on account of me having spent the couple hours after my brother's departure stewing, which I'm quite glad to have out of my system at this point.

Once I'd finally calmed down enough to figure out what I wanted to do, I went to the bank and had lunch before stopping by the grocery store. Taking a version of my uncle's advice to make lemonade from the morning's "lemons," I bought some lemonade which I later enjoyed. I watched a little bit of television on Hulu which I had still to catch up on (only two things left in my queue!), and then I resumed coding the latest of my semi-secret pet projects, which is actually coming together much quicker than I thought it would. (In this case, that is a very good thing.)

Around 18:00, my mother called me from work and asked, rather out-of-the-blue, if I wanted to go see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1 with her, a request to which I almost immediately replied, "Yes." So we drove into town, got to the theater just in time for the movie, and ate plenty of popcorn because we hadn't yet been able to have dinner.

The movie was great! It's amazing how vividly some of the scenery came back to me just from having read the books. It really was a well-done film, and I can't wait for Part 2 in July! (And that's all I'm going to say about it, lest I spoil it.)

Afterwards, Mom and I grabbed a late dinner at Chipotle (which finally exists in Erie!), and then headed home. I did a little lot more work on my project so that I would feel more able to do other, more important things on Wednesday. And then it somehow became the wee hours of the morning, so I fought through to write this. After all, I can't miss writing about two consecutive birthdays, can I?

I guess I'll have a late start in the morning. Or maybe early afternoon. But I wanted to get every last bit of enjoyment out of my birthday, and I think, despite the "lemons," I did! And if real life as a 23-year-old has to wait a couple extra hours so that I can fully experience the last throes of whatever-this-is, then so be it.