Authors: Arthur Hailey
Tags: #Industries, #Technology & Engineering, #Law, #Mystery & Detective, #Science, #Energy, #Public Utilities, #General, #Fiction - General, #Power Resources, #Literary Criticism, #Energy Industries, #English; Irish; Scottish; Welsh, #Fiction, #Non-Classifiable, #Business & Economics, #European
himself.
6
"We are agreed, then," J. Eric Humphrey said. His inquiring gaze swept
over the nine men and two women seated with him around the conference room
table. "We are agreed we should accept Nim's planning report in toto and
press at the highest level for immediate, urgent approval of the three
projects-Tunipah coal-burning plant, Devil's Gate pumped storage, and
opening the Fincastle geothermal field."
As nods and murmured assent greeted the chairman's summation, Nim Goldman
leaned back, for the moment relaxed. His presentation of future plans-the
product of intense work by himself and many otbers-had been a grueling
one.
The group, GSP&L's management committee, included all officers reporting
directly to the chairman. Officially, it rated second in authority to the
Board of Directors. In fact, it was the real fount of policy decisions
and power.
31
It was Monday afternoon and the meeting, which bad carried over from the
morning, had worked its way through a long agenda. A few around the table
showed signs of weariness.
Five days had passed since the disastrous explosion at La Mission and the
subsequent power failure. In the meantime there had been intensive studying
of entrails-the cause and effect of what had happened, along with
prognostications for the future. The inquisitions had continued late into
every night and over the weekend. Also, since last Wednesday, because of
cooler weather and some luck, no further blackouts had occurred. But one
conclusion was inescapable. There would be other blackouts, far more
serious, unless GSP & L began building more generating capacity soon.
"Soon" meant within the next year. Even then there could still be serious
shortages ahead since a conventional fossil-fueled power plant took five
years to design and build, a nuclear plant six-preceded, in each case, by
the four to six years it took to obtain the needed licenses.
"As well as those three projects we've been talking about," Oscar O'Brien,
the utility's general counsel, said, "I assume we will still press on with
our nuclear license applications." O'Brien was a former government lawyer
from Washington, a burly man, shaped like a bass fiddle, who smoked cigars
continuously.
Across the table from him, Ray Paulsen, executive vice president of power
supply, growled, "We goddam well better."
Next to Paulsen, Nim Goldman doodled thoughtfully on a pad. He reflected:
Despite their mutual dislike, and disputes in many areas, the one thing he
and Paulsen agreed on was a need for more power generation.
"Naturally," Eric Humphrey said, "we shall continue our nuclear program.
But in terms of public psychology we'll be better off, I believe, to let
nuclear stand alone and not be linked with the other plans. The route to
nuclear is strewn with hazards." He added hastily, "I mean hazards of
opposition."
The chairman continued, "Anticipating our decision here, I have already
arranged a meeting with the Governor-in Sacramento, the day after tomorrow.
I intend to urge him to bring pressure on all regulatory agencies to move
swiftly. I shall also suggest, for each of the three pro:ects, combined
hearings before all regulatory bodies from whom we require approval,
perhaps starting as early as next month."
"It's never been done that way, Eric," Stewart Ino, a senior vice president
in charge of rates and valuation, objected. Ino was an old-timer at GSP &
L; he had a chubby yeoman's face and with the addition of a ruff and velvet
hat could have been a British beefeater. An expert on licensing procedures,
he liked to follow them precisely. "Separate hearings have always been the
rule," he added. "To combine them would create complications."
32
"Let the lousy bureaucrats worry about that," Ray Paulsen told him. "I'm
for Eric's idea which would ~bove a live wire up their asses."
"Three live wires," someone said.
Paulsen grinned. "Better still."
Ino looked offendcd.
Ignoring the last exchange, Eric Humphrey observed, "Let's remember there
are strong arguments in favor of exceptional action. Moreover, we shall
never have a better time to press them. The power failure of last week
showed clearly that a crisis can happen; therefore crisis methods are
needed to counter it. Even in Sacramento I think they'll see that."
"In Sacramento," Oscar O'Brien said, "all they see is politics, Just as
in Washington. And let's face it-the opponents of what we plan will usc
politics to the bilt, with Tunipah at the top of their bate list."
There were reluctant murmurs of assent. Tunipah, as everyone around the
table realized, could prove the most controversial of the three
developments now being discussed. It was also, in several wavs, the most
vital of their plans.
Tunipah was a wilderness area near the California-Nevada border. It was
neither inbabited-the nearest small town was forty miles distant -nor
favored by sportsmen or naturalists since it held little of interest for
either. 'Hie region was difficult to get to and no roads, only a few
trails, traversed it. For all these reasons Tunipah had been chosen care-
fully.
What Golden State Power & Light proposed to build at Tunipah was an
enormous generating plant, capable of producing more than five million
kilowatts of electricity-enough to supply six cities the size of San
Francisco. The fuel to be used was coal. This would be transported by
rail from Utah, seven hundred miles away, where coal was plentiful and
relatively cheap. A rail link would be built-to the main line of the
Western Pacific Railroad-at the same time as the plant.
Coal could be North America's answer to Arab oil. Coal deposits within
the conterminous United States represent a third of the entire world's
known supply and are more than enough to satisfy U.S. energy needs for
three centuries. Alaska is believed to have another two thousand years'
supply. Admittedly, coal presented problems. Mining was one, air
pollution another, though modern technologies were at work on both. At
new electric utility plants in other states, smokestacks a thousand feet
high, supplemented by electrostatic filters and scrubbers that removed
sulfur from smokestack gases, were reducing pollution to acceptable
levels. And at Tunipah, what pollution there was would be far removed
from inhabited or recreation areas.
Something else Tunipah would do was to permit the closing of some of
GSP&L's older, oil-burning plants. This would further reduce de-
33
pendence on imported oil and produce big cost savings, present and future.
Logic favored the Tunipah project. But, as all public utilities bad learned
from experience, logic didn't rule, nor did the greater public good if a
handful of determined objectors-no matter how warped or unqualified their
judgments-decided otherwise. By the use of slow, procedural tactics applied
with ruthless skill, a project like Tunipah could be so long delayed as to
be, in reality, defeated. Those who consistently opposed any electric
utility expansion made effective use of Parkinson's third law: Delay is the
deadliest form of denial.
"Is there more discussion?" J. Eric Humphrey asked. Several of those around
the conference table had begun stuffing papers into briefcases, assuming
the meeting to be almost over.
"Yes," Teresa Van Buren said. "I'd like a nickel's worth."
Heads turned toward the public relations vice president, her short, plump
figure thrust forward to command attention. Her normally unruly hair was
more or less tidy today, presumably in deference to the occasion, but she
still wore one of her inevitable linen suits.
"Twisting the Governor's arm the way you plan, Eric, and stroking other
egos around the state capitol is okay," she pronounced. "I'm in favor of
it. But it isn't enough, not nearly enough to achieve what we want, and
here's the reason."
Van Buren paused. Reaching down beside her seat, she produced two
newspapers and spread them on the conference room table. "This is this
afternoon's California Examiner-an early edition I had sent inand this one,
this morning's Chronicle-West, which you've undoubtedly all seen. I've been
through both papers carefully and there's not a word in either about last
week's power outage. For one day, as we know, the subject was big news, the
next day minor news; after that it disappeared. And what's true of the
press is true of other media."
"So what?" Ray Paulsen said. "There's been other news. People lose
interest."
"They lose interest because no one keeps them interested. Out there" -Van
Buren waved an arm in the general direction of the world beyond the
conference room-"out there the press and public think of an electric power
shortage as a here-today-gone-tomorrow, short-term problem. Almost no one
is considering the long-term effects of power shortages which we know are
getting closer-drastically lower living standards, dislocation of industry,
catastrophic unemployment. And nothing will change that outside, uninformed
thinking unless we make it change."
Sharlett Underhill, executive vice president of finance and the other woman
at the table, asked, "How do you make anybody think anything?"
34
"I'll answer that," Nim Goldman said. He snapped down his pencil. "One
way is to start shouting the trutb-tbe way things real1v are, not holding
back-and to go on shouting loud and clear and often
Ray Paulsen said sardonically, "In other words, you'd like to be on TV
four times a week instead of twice?"
Nim ignored the interruption. He went on, "We should, as company policy,
keep on proclaiming what everyone at this table knows: That last week our
peak load was twenty-two million kilowatts, and demand is growing by a
million kilowatts a year. That, assuming the same growth rate, in three
years Nve'll be short on reserves, in four years we'll have none. So bow
will we manage? The answer is: we won't. Any fool can see what's
coming-three years from now, blackouts every time It's hot; and in six
years, blackouts every summer day. We have got to get some new generators
built and we have to tell the public the consequences of not building
them."
There was a silence which Van Buren broke. "We all know every word of
that is true, so why not say so? There's even an opportunity next week.
Nim has been booked for Tuesday on The Good Evening Show, which has a big
following."
Paulsen grunted. "Too bad I'll be out that night."
"I'm not at all sure we should be that forthright," Sharlett Underhill
said. "I need hardly remind everyone we have an application in process
for a rate increase and we desperately need that extra revenue. I don't
want to see our chances of getting it jeopardized."
"Frankness is likely to improve our chances," Van Buren said, "not
diminish them."
The finance vice president shook her bead. "I'm not so sure. And
something else I believe is that the kind of statements we're talking