Remember Texas City

At 9:12 AM on April 16, 1947, a seismologist in Denver, Colorado noted an unusual vibration on his seismograph.  Calculations showed that it originated on the Texas Gulf Coast, when some 2,300 tons of ammonium nitrate fertilizer on a ship docked at Texas City, Texas exploded in milliseconds.  The resulting blast killed at least 581 people, injured thousands more, destroyed a number of chemical plants and refineries in the vicinity, and became the largest industrial accident in the history of the United States. 

 

Today, every town of any size has an emergency management plan, and regular drills are practiced for various kinds of accidents and crises:  floods, fires, storms, and so on.  Chemicals that can explode spontaneously are labeled as such, and extensive regulations prescribe how they must be safely stored, handled, and transported.  But in 1947, all these practices lay in the future as the industrial might of the U. S. was turned from making war materiel to assisting Europe in recovering from World War II. 

 

One critical component of many munitions was ammonium nitrate, a chemical which is both a blessing and a curse.  The blessing is that it dissolves easily in water and provides more nitrogen per pound than almost any other kind of fertilizer.  The curse is that it is highly unstable.  When detonated with a suitable blasting cap or other primer, it violently decomposes with a shock-wave detonation into nitrogen, oxygen, and steam—all gases that expand with tremendous force.  And when confined in large volumes, as on board the French freighter SS Grandcamp, an ammonium-nitrate fire stands a good chance of spontaneously detonating.  As described in exacting and vivid detail by biographer of George W. Bush Bill Minutaglio in his excellent City on Fire, that is exactly what happened after a fire of unknown origin was detected earlier in the day on the clear spring morning of April 16, as the ship was being loaded with fertilizer bound for Europe.

 

Minutaglio's extensive research for the book provides intimate and fascinating details about the lives of dozens of players in the disaster, ranging from sailors aboard the Grandcamp to the volunteer fire department's chief, the mayor, and leaders of the privately-owned port authority which was in charge of loading the ship from railroad cars at the port.  I would like to focus on the two safety practices which were glaringly absent that day:  labeling of potentially explosive chemicals and the practice of making emergency-management plans.

 

As was brought out in detail during a decade-long series of lawsuits following the disaster which established the precedent of class-action lawsuits against the Federal government, the fertilizer bags carried no hint that ammonium nitrate could be explosive under some conditions.  This is despite the fact that the same Midwestern factories that made the fertilizer for peaceful purposes had only a few short years ago been making the same stuff for munitions.  One or two chemical engineers or others with a technical background in Texas City knew of the explosive tendencies of ammonium nitrate.  But no members of the volunteer fire department—all but one of whom died in the explosion—knew about the dangers.  No one on the ship knew, especially the captain, who in a misguided attempt to salvage the cargo, sealed the hold and ordered live steam injected into it.  And none of the ordinary workers and citizens of Texas City knew that if anything went wrong, there was enough explosive on board the Grandcamp to destroy most of the town.  And it did.

 

The Grandcamp explosion was only the beginning of a disaster that went out of control well into the night.  Flying blazing debris ignited and destroyed most of a Monsanto chemical plant only a few hundred yards away from the dock, and broke loose a second fertilizer ship, the High Flyer, which eventually caught fire after it drifted across the port channel and collided with another ship.  The High Flyer exploded early the next morning and produced a bigger blast than the Grandcamp.  The only reason more fatalities didn't result from it was that nearly everyone who could get out of town by then had done so. 

 

Texas City's mayor, Curtis Trahan, survived the blast because he was at the city's equipment barns at the time, several blocks away.  While he did his best to coordinate rescue and medical efforts after the disaster, it was an exercise in making it up as he and his surviving citizens went along.  Eventually, as the magnitude of the disaster became known, Trahan received offers of assistance from the White House on down.  But coordinating and organizing the rescue and medical evacuation and treatment efforts amid the terrible damage, fires, and continuing explosions of oil refineries and chemical plants proved to be an almost insurmountable undertaking.  Instead, Trahan spent much of his time organizing the collection and identification of bodies where possible, although hundreds of missing people were never identified.

 

The terrible lessons taught by the Texas City disaster include the need to label all potentially explosive chemicals as such; the need to regulate the transportation and storage of such materials in a way that prevents explosions in case of fire; and the need to educate first responders and plan for various likely and not-so-likely scenarios when dealing with emergencies under the aegis of emergency management plans. 

 

Sadly, these lessons were not applied decades later in a similar disaster that struck West, Texas, a small town between Waco and the Dallas-Fort Worth area.  On April 17, 2013, a fire in an ammonium nitrate storage area of the West Fertilizer company attracted the attention of the volunteer fire department.  At 7:50 that evening, it exploded, killing 15 people and injuring at least 200, and destroying or damaging numerous structures.  On a smaller scale, the Texas City disaster repeated itself in West, where better storage practices and knowledge could have prevented or at least minimized the number of casualties.

 

Every day when ammonium nitrate is safely handled without incident is a good day.  We should be both thankful and mindful of the lessons learned at such cost, that have taught us the best practices of handling dangerous materials.  And anyone who reads Minutaglio's moving and dramatic account of the Texas City disaster will never forget those lessons.

 

Sources:  Bill Minutaglio's City on Fire:  The Forgotten Disaster That Devastated a Town and Ignited a Landmark Legal Battle was published in 2003 by HarperCollins.  I also referred to the Wikipedia articles "West Fertilizer Company explosion," "Texas City disaster," and "Ammonium nitrate."

 

Will New U. S. Nuclear Plants Be Safe and Cost-Effective?

That's a question a lot of people are asking as the field of nuclear-powered electricity attempts a comeback in the U. S.  An article in the MIT Technology Review examines some critical issues that will affect the answers to that question. 

 

U. S. nuclear power has had a checkered career.  Beginning in the 1950s, nuclear power plants were built by the leading nuclear-bomb-making countries:  the old Soviet Union, England, and the U. S.  A building boom in the U. S. for nuclear plants peaked in the late 1970s, and some years since then, as much as 20% of total U. S. power came from nuclear sources.  However, after about 2000, with cost overruns and bad publicity such as the accidents at Three Mile Island in Pennsylvania in 1979 and Chernobyl, Ukraine in 1986, utilities quit planning new plants, and shut down several old ones. 

 

But with the rising concerns about climate change, nuclear power plants began to look better for the environment than fossil-fuel plants.  They also have a huge advantage over most renewable sources such as wind and solar, which are subject to the vagaries of nightfall and wind speed.  A properly-run nuclear plant can be an extremely reliable source, stabilizing a grid with renewables that might otherwise run out of energy on a still, dark night.

 

The Technology Review article points out some problems in getting a new nuclear-power industry started.  The fuel, for instance, is typically something called "high-assay low-enriched uranium" (HALEU for short).  It has between 5% and 25% U-235, the highly-fissionable isotope of uranium which makes fission plants using uranium workable.  Right now, the only source of new HALEU is Russia, although the U. S. government has a stockpile that it's currently doling out to experimental plants.  This issue needs to be resolved before new conventional nuclear plants go online here in a major way.

 

Another issue is safety.  While avoiding publicity, the Trump administration has relaxed some safety and security measures and environmental regulations pertaining to nuclear plants.  One can argue that excessive regulation and time-consuming permitting processes were big factors in putting the kibosh on nuclear in the first place.  But regulations are like preparing for war, in that you never know whether you did an inadequate job until something bad happens, and by then it's too late.  Time will tell whether the new regulation situation will merely speed up the construction of new plants or lead to problems with safety.  And unlike fossil-fuel plants, cleaning up a nuclear-plant accident can be orders of magnitude more expensive and dangerous, as we learned from the Fukushima nuclear-plant accident in 2011.

 

Finally, will new nuclear plants make a profit for their investors, or will they turn into financial albatrosses that bankrupt their owners, as has happened in the past with reactor projects that went way over budget?  One measure of how attractive nuclear plants are compared to other kinds is the cost per installed kilowatt.  Fossil-fuel plants can be built for around $1600 per kilowatt or less.  China reportedly builds their nuclear plants for between $2,000 and $3,000 per kilowatt.  Estimates for the various types of new U. S. nuclear plants vary, but figures between $6,000 and $10,000 per kilowatt seem realistic for the first new advanced models.  The price could come down if the nuclear industry learns to standardize models rather than building each plant from scratch, which practice has contributed to cost overruns in the past.  But going to a standardized model will require changes in the regulatory environment which may or may not come to pass.

 

Here in Texas, startup reactor builder Last Energy has teamed with Texas A&M University to build a 5-megawatt pressurized-water reactor at the RELLIS campus, a former air force base ten miles away from the main campus in Bryan-College Station.  News releases predict the facility will go critical in the summer of 2026, which is ambitious but possible.  The pressurized-water reactor design is not innovative, having been used for the first nuclear-powered submarines in the 1950s.  But with modern construction and control techniques, designers may be able to build on the decades of experience gained with the design to produce a standardized module that can be scaled up fairly easily to commercial size, in the 20-megawatt or larger range.

 

Newer designs are also in the works.  Some designs use boiling water rather than pressurized liquid water, and this simplifies the design.  Other designs use liquid metals for coolants, fuel in pebble rather than rod form, and other variations on the conventional design.  But there is a long road between experiments and a commercially profitable plant, and many previously-announced plans for smaller modular plants have been cancelled. 

 

Nevertheless, if some new designs can be shown to work safely and not cost an arm and a leg during the current administration's fairly favorable regulatory environment for nuclear power, the industry could make a substantial contribution toward the nation's energy needs, which have recently soared due to the boom in data-center construction. 

 

Building nuclear plants to run data centers is not going to appeal to your typical activist, and there are downsides to nuclear energy, notably the problem of waste.  Some of the newly proposed reactor schemes generate much less waste than conventional U-235 reactors, but again, these are only proposals, not working reactors.  The current policy in the U. S. of keeping waste stored locally rather than transporting it and concentrating it at one big waste facility seems to be working so far.  But "so far" compared to the dangerous centuries-long lifetime of nuclear waste is not very long, and it would be better if we could produce less waste to start with rather than making lots of it and figuring out what to do with it afterwards.

 

The next couple or three years may be a make-or-break time for nuclear power in the U. S.  From many points of view, it is a sensible and proven way to generate electricity.  If we can adjust the regulatory environment and adapt to new modular manufacturing techniques without compromising safety, nuclear power could make a climate-friendly and reliable contribution to our future energy needs.  But that is currently a big "if," and only time will tell us whether hopes for a more-nuclear future will be justified or dashed.

 

Sources:  The MIT Technology Review article I referred to, "Three Questions About Next-Generation Nuclear Power, Answered," appears at https://www.technologyreview.com/2026/02/05/1132197/nuclear-questions/.  I also referred to the website https://www.nei.org/resources/statistics/us-nuclear-generating-statistics for statistics on nuclear power and the sites https://news.tamus.edu/stories/last-energy-texas-am-collaborate-to-launch-microreactor-pilot-at-texas-am-rellis/and https://www.neimagazine.com/news/last-energy-funded-for-pwr-5-pilot/?cf-view for information on the Texas A&M 5-megawatt RELLIS unit.

 

Grok Hits the Fan with Pornified Deepfakes

  

The word Grok, which Elon Musk adopted for the name of his generative chatbot integrated with the social-media platform X, formerly known as Twitter, was coined by sci-fi writer Robert A. Heinlein.  In a 1961 story, Heinlein used it to mean something like "intuitive sympathetic understanding."  Heinlein must be spinning in his grave right now, because nothing could be further from intuitive sympathetic understanding than discovering that a chatbot has taken your image and turned it into, pardon the expression, masturbation fodder.

 

A nonprofit called the Center for Countering Digital Hate announced on Jan. 22 that the Grok chatbot had produced an estimated three million sexualized images in an 11-day period in December and early January.  An estimated 23,000 of these were of children under 18.  These estimates come from a sample of 20,000 images analyzed by the center and sorted by means of AI, with the ones suspected of showing children subject to manual inspection.

 

This revelation and similar discoveries have created a firestorm of legal actions.  Thirty-five state attorneys general have sent a letter to Musk threatening investigations and prosecutions for violating various laws against dissemination of child sexual abuse material.  A class-action suit involving over 100 plaintiffs has been filed in California, alleging that thousands of women "have been digitally stripped and forced into sexual situations that they never consented to."  Once such images appear in public, they can create false impressions of a person's behavior for years.

 

For his part, Musk has claimed that the feature enabling these deepfakes would be limited to paid subscribers.  He displayed the results of what happened when he asked Grok to generate a photo of himself in a bikini.  He has even gone so far as to deny any of this was happening.  Despite his responses, Grok and its parent organizations are now facing threats of legal action both in the U. S. and in the European Community, which has much stricter laws than many U. S. states about sexualized deepfakes.

 

The phrase "hitting the fan" really is appropriate here.  When deepfakes are created by a system intrinsically linked to one of the world's most popular social mediums, of course the stuff is going to fly everywhere.  Reportedly, the process was made easier by the availability of a "spicy" option.  So it's not like users had to go to a lot of trouble and contortions to force Grok to do something it was reluctant to do.  Somebody designed this type of operation to be easy, and there are plenty of guys out there who will stand in line to hand their favorite images over to be sexualized. 

 

Ethically speaking, there are so many things going wrong here that it's hard to focus on the worst ones.  I think this perfect storm of ethical lapses arises from a combination of (a) a moral blindness or lack of moral imagination which Musk perfectly exemplifies and (b) the unprecedented power to realize his profit-making and technologically effective ideas in a regulatory environment that he treats like a vacuum. 

 

The moral blindness arises from an adolescent macho attitude which treats women as objects, and sees nothing wrong with this attitude.  It is clear that Musk and those who worked for him in creating this fiasco literally can't imagine (or won't imagine) what it's like to be a woman whose face has been plastered onto a body doing something obscene. 

           

It's one thing if the guy doing the plastering is sneaking around in a back alley behind a porn shop because he can't afford to buy what he wants, and is going through the shop's trash barrel to put something together for his evil desires.  But it's quite another when the exact same attitude toward women is held by the world's richest man, whose power to do either good or harm is historically unprecedented. 

 

What is to be done?  And more realistically, what is going to happen in this situation?

 

In an ideal world, Grok would be shut down—100%—and a thorough investigation and hearing from anyone with a claim to have been injured by its doings would be conducted.  A reparation fund cut from a sizable chunk of Musk's billions would be established, and an impartial tribunal would attempt to compensate the injured parties and do a thorough web-cleaning, assisted by Musk's AI genius engineers, to put things back to where they were before the women were digitally assaulted.  And Musk would be put on notice that if anything like this happens again, he will be tied to his Starship rocket and launched on a one-way trip to Mars, alone, where he really wants to live anyway. 

 

What will probably happen instead is that the state attorneys general will file suits against Grok, xAI, and any other well-heeled target in sight.  The California civil suit will proceed at a pace slowed by the best lawyers Musk's money can buy.  As noted by Derek Johnson, writing in an article in Cyberscoop, the U. S. federal legal system has been notably silent, which may be due to Musk's favored status in the Trump administration, despite the debacle called DOGE last year. 

 

If we are looking for evidence that out-of-control AI is going to cause great harm, look no farther.  No, nobody has died physically from this particular disaster.  It doesn't fit the mold of the typical sci-fi AI apocalypse in which evil disembodied voices emerge from everybody's smartphone as the power goes out and the supply chains fall idle.  But ask any one of those women who have been undressed and worse by Grok about how they feel about what they've been through.  For them, it's been worse than 9/11, the 2008 market crash, and COVID rolled into one.  The fact that it's "only" a few thousand children being exploited isn't important. 

 

In The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoevsky writes of a conversation between Ivan, a cynical man of the world, and Alyosha, his brother who was a believer in God.  In Chapter 4, Ivan brings up the subject of the way some children are tormented by their own parents, even parents who are "most worthy and respectable people, of good education and breeding."  Then Ivan says something that we all need to be reminded of:  "In every man, of course, a demon lies hidden—the demon of rage, the demon of lustful heat at the screams of the tortured victim, the demon of lawlessness let off the chain. . . ." 

 

Every human being is capable of doing despicable things to children.  I am, you are, everybody is.  But civilization is made possible by each person's exertion of self-control to restrain that and other evil desires.  It is corrosive to civilization to provide a means by which evil desires may flourish at the expense of the innocent.  And in allowing Grok to be exploited in such a way, Musk and his underlings are polluting the spiritual lives of millions, and will answer to a higher court than even Musk can send lawyers to.

 

Sources:  I referred to an article in the Jan. 29 edition of the Austin American-Statesmen entitled "Grok made 3M explicit images in 11 days" by Andrea Guzmán, the Center for Countering Digital Hate's posting at https://counterhate.com/research/grok-floods-x-with-sexualized-images/, the website https://cyberscoop.com/grok-undressed-victims-file-class-action-lawsuit-against-xai-elon-musk/, and Wikipedia articles on Grok (chatbot) and Grok (the word).  The Brothers Karamazov quotes are from the Constance Garnett translation.