On the 3rd October 1957, after a virtuoso speech by Aneurin Bevan, the
Labour Party Conference voted against British renunciation of the
H-bomb. On the 4th, the Soviet Sputnik I - the first man-made satellite to
orbit the Earth - astonished and alarmed the Western world. On
the 9th,
Britain's last atmospheric A-bomb test took place in Australia. From
the 10th to the 12th, fire in Windscale's Pile Number 1 threatened catastrophe. An
epidemic of Asian flu swept through England and Wales.
From those ten memorable days the event most often remembered must be
the Windscale accident. It is for me. When I read David McGeoghegan's
and Keith Binks' paper (page 261 of this issue) it was another interesting reminder
of topics that have recurred in my life for the past 40 years - Windscale,
radiological protection and epidemiology.
When I joined the UK Atomic Energy Authority in January 1959, the 1957
accident still loomed hugely, especially for the new Authority Health
and Safety Branch (AHSB) to which I was recruited. My first job there
was as joint secretary of a committee on training in radiological health
and safety, which had been set up as a result of the accident. It was
not easy for a newcomer with no scientific background, but it was an
immense privilege to meet such remarkable men as Sir Ernest Rock Carling
and Professor Val Mayneord each week. And I was most fortunate to work
for the UKAEA's first Director of Health and Safety, the wise and witty
Dr Andrew McLean, who as Chief Medical Officer at Risley, had been much
involved in all the health aspects of the accident.
As Director of Health and Safety, one of his concerns was to provide the
UKAEA with the best possible, unified, system of health records. Apart
from its management value, and its importance for public accountability
and public relations, he was well aware of how essential it would be in
the long term for epidemiological studies. At Risley, he had been able
to coordinate and rationalise health records in the northern
establishments. But the UKAEA was a highly decentralised organisation;
various establishments had their own idiosyncratic methods of record
keeping, and resisted change. Objections were raised, too, to the
alleged costs of a unified system. Patience and persuasion prevailed,
and by the mid-1960s Andrew McLean and his colleague, Ken Duncan (the
UKAEA Chief Medical Officer), developed and put in place a system which
was up to the highest standards of major industrial organisations of the
period.
I remember once asking him whether a special life-time study might not
be undertaken of the 470 men who had been engaged in the fire and the
clean-up operation because, though only a small group, they had the
advantages of being easy to follow up and of having good radiation
records. As I remember, this was regarded as inadvisable, or even
impossible, as it might cause harmful and unnecessary anxiety to the
people concerned; nor could they be followed up after they left UKAEA
employment, without an invasion of privacy. Now it is all here in
McGeoghegan's and Binks' fascinating retrospective study.
I was transferred from the AHSB to the UKAEA history office in 1967, but
the Windscale accident was not left behind for long. A two-volume
history of 'Britain and atomic energy 1945-1952' was published in 1974,
and work then began on the sequel (1952-1958). A chapter on the
Windscale accident was assigned to me to write. I did a good deal of
work on it, and interviewed many of the people involved. However, as it
turned out, the 1952-1958 book was never completed or published. But the
work was not altogether wasted, for some of the interviews I did then,
and saved, would have been impossible in the 1980s.
The Windscale accident again came to the fore when the Chernobyl
disaster in 1986 renewed public interest in reactor accidents. Nearer to
home, the date was approaching (January 1988) when UKAEA and other
official files about Windscale 1957 would be opened in the Public Record
Office, and much media interest and publicity were likely. After a
thorough study of all the relevant papers I suggested a book might be
useful. It was agreed and the result was my Windscale 1957: Anatomy of a
Nuclear Accident, first published in 1992.
There is so much to remember and reflect on, but I will conclude with
just two comments.
First, there is still more to learn about the accident, and various
studies are, I know, ongoing. One significant event can yield new
information and insights for many years, especially as new and more
powerful analytical tools become available. This is true, a
weapons
scientist told me, of nuclear weapon tests, provided there are good
records. The same is perhaps even truer of an event like the Windscale
accident, in which the passage of time (as well as improved analytical
methods) is so important in epidemiology.
Second, I am very conscious, as I read this study of morbidity and
mortality, that I am seeing the outcome not of present radiological
standards and methods of protection but of those that obtained decades
ago. These results are a testimony to the work of post-war health
physicists, and to the vital influence of ICRP - refounded in 1950
largely on the initiative of Rock Carling and Mayneord. With daunting
practical questions crying out for answers, and little research material
to draw on, ICRP gave sound and far-sighted advice for the new atomic
age. The world has moved on, but we have good reason to remember the
wise men of the 1950s with admiration and gratitude.