Fearing Sellafield By Colum Kenny Gill & Macmillan .12.99 192pp

SIX years ago I spent some months working on a novel ? which I never completed ? about the future consequences for Ireland if a major accident occurred at the Sellafield nuclear plant. Novels are abandoned for various reasons and, in my case, one was the extreme difficulty in obtaining any proper information about the Irish government's plans to deal with such a disaster and whether any department had seriously quantified the probable repercussions.

Ironically, the only real interest ever expressed in the project came from the agent of a major American female film star ? who saw great possibilities for his client to play the leading character if the book was ever written. When my agent questioned whether his star would want to spend a year in Ireland making the film, her agent exclaimed in that bright American way: "That will be no problem. We'll simply switch all the action to Texas." I meant to return to the novel, but what had seemed like science fiction back then would now seem like cashing in on our post 9/11 fears about what could easily become a reality. However, if I ever resumed the manuscript, Colum Kenny's Fearing Sellafield would become a constant reference point. Kenny had so often heard the Irish Sea described as the world's most radioactive sea that the phrase had become a cliché until his young sons began to mention it.

This brought home just how little he really knew about the dangers of living within the shadow of such a possible disaster.

The result is this lucidly written, highly informative volume which examines the facts in relation to what is not just a reprocessing plant but also Britain's most dangerous nuclear dump.

The notion of a terrorist attack on Sellafield has very much entered the realms of the possible in light of the current political climate and Kenny examines just how grave the consequences could be. Ironically the physical climate as much as the political climate could shape the immediate effects, because ? although BNFL are adamant that there will never be a catastrophic release of radioactivity from the plant ? if one does occur then the lottery of prevailing winds will decide whether the poisonous plumes traverse England and Scotland or bring mass death across the Irish Sea.

Kenny's tone is never sensationalist and he argues that the risk of such an event is small and we are more likely to be exposed to radioactivity through food and toothpaste. However, he makes the point that even if the risk is small, the fallout would be so deadly that it is simply not permissible to live with the risk of this loaded gun. Some of the best parts of the book describe him visiting Sellafield, looking at the ordinary seemingly unperturbed workers there at ease in their place of employment and then entering the enormous box-like structure that is THORP where the first level of protection handed to you is, rather bizarrely, regulation blue woolly socks.

He examines how Sellafield could be closed, despite the protests of the British government, but not immediately. The process would be complex and, even then would leave behind large amounts of incredibly dangerous material for generations to come. Even at the huge cost involved and allowing for what BNFL would describe as the statistically extremely low chance of an accident, Kenny makes a strong case for the plant's closure. Not only have BNFL underplayed the risks involved, but Kenny shows that they are keen to underplay Irish concerns.

While An Post claim to have processed a quarter of a million cards to BNFL from Ireland in the Shut Sellafield postal protest, the company only recall receiving 150,000. Likewise Tony Blair's memory would appear to fall short of receiving 397,000 similar cards.

But you do feel that at least the British government and BNFL are relatively slick in trying to inspire confidence in their dealings with the public.

Kenny's account of Joe Jacobs's efforts to convince the Irish public that there was a national emergency plan for nuclear accidents makes for blackly comic reading as does the debacle surrounding the issuing of potassium iodate tables to the Irish public after an eight month delay.

The details of Ireland's current fight, using international law, to fight for the closure of Sellafield does at least suggest a more thought-out approach, but one would be wise not to hold one's breath. In the meantime if you want to make up your own mind, then Kenny's account of the history of the Sellafield site, what actually goes on there and what could occur, makes for essential reading.