Deliberative decision-making on radioactive waste management in Finland, France and the UK: influence of mixed forms of deliberation in the macro discursive context

Abstract

This article analyses the nature and role of recently established deliberative and participatory mechanisms of planning and decision-making on radioactive waste management in three countries that have recently committed to extending their nuclear capacity – Finland, France and the UK. The article introduces the micro and macro theories of deliberative democracy, and – by relying on the distinction between the normative, substantive and instrumental functions of participation – examines the degrees to which the different deliberative mechanisms succeeded in bridging the boundary between the micro and macro deliberation. The empirical analysis illustrates how the functions and the influence of these mechanisms have been conditioned by the broader macro discursive sphere, within which the mixed forms of deliberation take place. Elements of all three functions of participation could be identified to varying degrees in all cases, yet the direct impact of deliberation on policy outcomes was often modest and uncertain. In contrast, the analysis highlights, on the one hand, the indirect impacts of deliberation - notably through the creation of norms of deliberative democracy - and on the other hand, the need to consider the broader macro discursive sphere when designing processes and institutions of deliberation. The case studies suggest that the control over knowledge production as well as the trust in government institutions were pivotal in explaining the influence of deliberation in the three countries.

Keywords:

• radioactive waste
• nuclear
• governance
• participation
• deliberative democracy
• discursive democracy

1. Introduction: deliberative theory and participation in nuclear governance

In parallel with increasing interest in deliberative democratic theory (Dryzek 2000; Hendriks 2006; Parkinson 2006; Blondiaux 2008a), policy-making in the area of nuclear energy has in recent years been undergoing its own ‘deliberative turn’. The motivations include the need to gain local acceptance for nuclear installations; international pressure and legislation concerning citizens' access to information and participation in decision-making; and the desire to enhance public trust in government institutions. The principles of deliberative democracy provide one possible basis for assessing the quality of such participatory processes. Such a core set of general principles and criteria for deliberative democracy can be summarised as follows (Elster 1997; Parkinson and Bavister-Gould 2009: 11):

•	collective decisions are to be arrived at through public reasoning (proposals supported by reasons), rather than through the aggregation of private preferences;
•	proposals should be defended in public if they are to have any force for others;
•	representation should be inclusive and authentic 1;
•	only the power of the better argument should govern those who participate;
•	deliberative democracy is not mere talk or consultation, but a procedure or set of procedures for coming to collective decisions.

Deliberative mechanisms have been the object of plenty of research in the area of radioactive waste management, often with the more or less explicit ambition of defining the conditions for successful participation and deliberation (e.g. Krütli et al. 2010). This article has a more modest ambition – that of examining the interplay between the micro and macro spheres of deliberation, through an analysis of mechanisms of planning and decision-making on radioactive waste management in three countries that have recently decided to expand their nuclear capacity – Finland, France and the UK. Three main reasons justify the choice of the countries and case studies. First, the governments in all three countries seek to expand the capacity of nuclear power, radioactive waste management being one of the central themes in these debates around nuclear new-build. Second, the histories of radioactive waste management in the three countries exhibit common traits – notably the local opposition at potential nuclear waste disposal communities, which has led to varying degrees of rethinking and reorientation of policy towards more transparent and open decision-making modes. Therefore, the three cases represent three different ways of responding to what could be called the ‘imperative of deliberation’. Third, despite these similarities, the significant cultural and institutional differences between the countries allow an exploration of the importance of factors such as the trust of citizens and various forms of expertise. Instead of comparing the three cases on a ceteris paribus (“all other things being equal”) basis, this article explores the ways in which the shape and outcomes of deliberative and participatory mechanisms are shaped by their broader discursive contexts. In other words, rather than seeking to isolate away the influence of contextual variation as a potential source of disruption and bias, the article takes the view that it is precisely these contextual factors, which should be at the heart of the analysis (see e.g. Pawson and Tilley 1997).

The core subject of the article is the influence of the broader context of deliberation, notably its discursive dimension – called here the macro discursive sphere (Hendriks 2006). Two key questions guide the analysis: (1) how are the design and operation of the deliberative mechanisms influenced by their broader macro discursive sphere? (2) How do the deliberative mechanisms interact with their broader macro discursive sphere, thereby producing the observed outcomes? The starting point for the analysis is that in order to produce their desired outcomes, deliberative mechanisms need to take into account and adequately link with their broader macro discursive context. Three basic functions of participation – the normative, the instrumental and the substantive function – are here employed to assess the operation and the outcomes of the deliberative mechanisms.

While the historically constructed broader institutional and political context, including the different geological conditions and socio-technological histories of radioactive waste management in the three countries, contribute to creating the framework conditions for deliberation, these aspects are not dealt with in greater detail in this article. This omission is justified by the lack of space, but more importantly, by the fact the ambition of the article is not to provide a comprehensive explanation of the success of specific deliberative mechanisms, but to focus on the interaction between the deliberation and the macro discursive sphere.

The deliberative mechanisms analysed are the EIA (Environmental Impact Assessment) process on the final disposal of radioactive waste in Finland, the debate on radioactive waste management policy within the French National Commission for Public Debate (CNDP) and the deliberations within the UK Committee on Radioactive Waste Management (CoRWM). The character and the influence of the deliberative mechanisms are examined in the light of three distinct rationales of participation. The article starts by introducing the distinction between micro and macro accounts of deliberative democracy (section 2) and the three functions of participation (section 3), which provide the basic framework for the empirical analysis. Section 4 describes the three cases, and assesses them in light of the three functions of participation, whereas section 5 interprets the findings through an analysis of the micro–macro interaction. Section 6 concludes the article.

The empirical analysis relies on material from secondary sources, i.e. published academic research and public documents, complemented by eight expert interviews in France, and six expert and stakeholder interviews in Finland. 2

2 Micro and macro accounts of deliberative democracy

A distinction is commonly made between the ‘micro’ and ‘macro’ theories of deliberative democracy (Dryzek 2000; Hendriks 2006; Parkinson 2006; Parkinson and Bavister-Gould 2009). Micro theories tend to focus on deliberation in relatively small groups, in structured and formal deliberative forums such as expert committees and committees of inquiry, usually but not always created by the state. Micro theories lay most emphasis on the conditions for maximising the quality of deliberation. Typical participants in micro deliberation are parliamentarians, government officials, experts, judges and arbitrators (Hendriks 2006).

Macro deliberative theorists, in turn, are more interested in the discursive side of democracy, the “messy”, informal and inherently unpredictable debate in the public sphere, or the “ebb and flow” of debates in society, from “pubs to parliaments and back again” (Parkinson 2004). They focus on opinion formation and the ways in which unstructured deliberation in civil society can shape public opinion and political institutions (Hendriks 2006: 491). Some define macro deliberation as “contestation of overlapping discourses” (Dryzek 2000), or as conversations carried on across time and space, the threads of which are picked up by people at different times, in different places and with different interlocutors (Benhabib 1996: 75; Dryzek 2000: 74–75; Young 2001: 167). Others talk about a “deliberative system” (Mansbridge 1999: 215; Dryzek and Hendriks 2010), which comprises a range of institutions, sites and practices, including the formal institutions of representative democracy (e.g. legislature and courts), the informal public sphere (e.g. the media), private political talk and particular practices such as activism or justification. In combination, these different elements of a deliberative system may contribute to the theoretical requirements of a deliberative democracy (Mansbridge 1999; Hendriks 2006). Central actors in the broader deliberative system include social movements, networks, NGOs, activists, interest groups, corporations, the media and opinion leaders (Hendriks 2006). 3

Both accounts of deliberative democracy have their limitations. Hendriks (2006: 492–493) has pointed out that since true deliberation is usually possible only in relatively small groups, among presumably non-passionate and disinterested participants in controlled spaces of deliberation, micro deliberation is unavoidably exclusive and potentially elitist. In particular, it seems to exclude from deliberation those actors in civil society who are mostly interested in pursuing their own agenda and unwilling to abide by the strict rules of deliberation. Micro theories are particularly vague about the role of civil society or the participants of deliberation, and implicitly assume that civil society will collaborate with the state. Due to their lack of attention to broader political structures, micro theories can also be overly optimistic concerning the ability of micro deliberation to overcome the broader structural inequities in society. Parkinson and Bavister-Gould (2009) note that though small-scale consultation can have large-scale impacts, 4 it can also become a distraction from the broader realms of decision-making, when micro deliberative events are framed narrowly, and when it only allows deliberation on relatively minor details and not on more fundamental questions of policy.

Macro deliberative theories give civil society a crucial role in deliberative democracy, as a counterpoint to the state and the market. In embracing more strategic forms of action and communication, such as protest, boycott and radical activism, macro deliberation is a more inclusive account of deliberative democracy, more accessible to the louder, well-organised and well-resourced actors in civil society, but also to alternative or marginalised interests. However, macro deliberation's over-optimism concerns the capacity of ‘unrestricted communication’ in the public sphere to counter illegitimate claims and attempts to distort communication. Macro deliberation can therefore easily collapse into adversarial interest group politics at odds with deliberative ideals (Hendriks 2006: 494–495).

Hendriks (2006) further notes that both micro and macro deliberation have a potential to influence policy, but such policy impact is far from certain. Micro deliberation, even when formally linked to decision-making processes, may suffer when the broader macro discursive sphere operates against the take-up of the outcomes from the deliberative processes. With macro deliberation, the question of influence concerns not so much “policy uptake” of deliberation, but rather the indirect impacts on agenda-setting, opinion-building and framing of public debate. Such effects tend to be far less predictable, but potentially more powerful and long-lasting than the concrete influence on specific policy decisions.

2.1 ‘Mixed’ discursive spheres and an integrated deliberative system

A number of scholars have sought to overcome this dichotomy and connect the two strands of deliberative theory (e.g. Cohen and Rogers 1995; Habermas 1996; Mansbridge 1999). This article adopts as its starting point Hendriks' (2006) conceptualisation of deliberative democracy as an integrated system – encompassing a variety of public venues where public conversations take place, called “discursive spheres”. 5 Most discursive spheres have their own dominant form of communication – e.g. inquiry, contestation, negotiation, consensus or deliberation. Some spheres have been initiated by state, others by civil society; some are formal, while others are informal. Such an integrated model calls attention to the deliberative system (see e.g. Mansbridge 1999) as a whole and accounts for the different propensities and abilities of various civil society groups to engage in deliberation.

Two aspects in Hendriks' account of deliberative democracy are crucial here. First, a “healthy” deliberative system contains “mixed” discursive spheres that combine formal and informal modes of deliberation. Mixed deliberation therefore connects the micro and macro “deliberative worlds”. It encourages actors normally operating in either micro or macro venues to come together in one arena and meet actors typically under-represented in both arenas (notably individual citizens). Mixed spheres, such as citizens' juries and planning cells, open public fora, and town hall meetings are common in deliberative practice, but have received little attention from policy theorists (Hendriks 2006: 501).

A second key observation is that micro and mixed deliberative arenas are always surrounded and influenced by their broader, informal ‘macro’ discursive context (Hendriks 2006: 502). Outcomes from micro deliberative experiments are frequently trumped by events, structural features, dominant voices and hegemonic discourses in the macro discursive sphere (Young 2001). However, the interaction goes both ways, as deliberation in small groups may reinforce values of deliberative democracy in the broader macro discursive spheres, but can also fuel antagonism and polarisation in the macro discursive sphere, instead of fostering broad community debate (Hendriks 2006: 498).

In practice, central questions when analysing the influence of the macro discursive sphere on the micro and mixed deliberative mechanisms relate to the exercise and distribution of discursive power, and the transmission of opinions and debate from the informal public sphere to the formal public sphere of political institutions (Parkinson and Bavister-Gould 2009: 13–14) – a process in which mixed deliberation can play a vital role. Three key questions will be examined in section 5 in order to explore these aspects:

•	Which actors and actor coalitions control the macro discursive sphere?
•	How does discursive power in the macro arenas manifest itself, through issue framing, control of knowledge production, lobbying and the creation of social norms?
•	How does the distribution of discursive power within the macro sphere shape the degree to which different discourses are taken seriously?

The three cases briefly analysed in the following exhibit, to varying degrees, characteristics of “mixed deliberation”. All the three cases involved deliberative forums spanning a wide range along the spectrum between controlled micro and uncontrolled macro deliberation. The various deliberative events organised within the three cases took place within and were influenced by the broader macro discursive context and, importantly, to varying degrees took into account this macro context in their design.

3 Performance of deliberation in the light of the three functions of participation

To assess the operation and the outcomes of the three mixed deliberative mechanisms studied in this article, three partly overlapping, partly mutually contradicting functions commonly attributed to participation will be employed as the reference framework: the normative, the substantive and the instrumental function ( Table 1) (Fiorino 1990; Stirling 2008).

The normative function imposes explicitly process-related criteria on participation, evoking concepts such as “communicative rationality”, equity, inclusion, emancipation and social justice; empowerment of the weaker and excluded. This view stems from the process-oriented strand of deliberative theory, which in its extreme variant argues that as long as the deliberative process has respected a set of given principles, any outcome from that process should be accepted as legitimate (e.g. Gutmann and Thompson 2004). The normative criteria of participation seek to ensure (Fiorino 1990; Rowe and Frewer 2000; Stirling 2008):

•	sufficient resources to different participants,
•	openness to all legitimate stakeholders,
•	equal representation of different groups in society,
•	accessibility of different participants to the process (e.g. the timing and location of events should not prevent people from participating),
•	adequate and impartial facilitation of the process,
•	transparency of the process and underlying knowledge base,
•	accountability for the decisions and outcomes and
•	‘policy uptake’ – i.e. the outcome of participation should feed into the policy processes.

The instrumental function is often the leading motivation for both nuclear industry and government authorities in the area. At one extreme, these efforts involve the nuclear “establishment” engaging in a process of “strategic adaptation”, whereby dialogue is not considered as an objective in itself, but rather as a means to achieve strategic aims, i.e. an already decided policy (Durant 2009; Lidskog and Sundqvist 2004). The concept of “social acceptability” is clearly inspired by the instrumental view, whereby participation provides “social intelligence” (Grove-White et al. 2000) – strategic information used to predict and manage adverse public or stakeholder opinions. Such “reputation management” also allows institutions to show commitment to participation (Stirling 2008).

Another side of the instrumental function is the building of public trust in institutions and legitimacy of policies – key requirements for a functioning deliberative system. Conversely, exaggerated trust and confidence may threaten deliberation, by creating favourable conditions for opportunism, manipulation and strategic action (Dogan 2005).

Like the instrumental function, the substantive function takes an outcome – rather than process-oriented view on participation (Fiorino 1990; Stirling 2008). However, in assessing outcomes, the substantive rationale relies on an explicit normative basis (e.g. sustainability, precaution) that transcends narrow sectional perspectives. By bringing to the same table different types of knowledge, held by different stakeholders, participation can help ‘open up’ new perspectives, and thereby foster learning and ‘better’ (more sustainable, precautionary, etc.) solutions. Being congruent with – and authentically embodying – diverse social values, knowledge and discourses, decisions would be more “socially robust” (Stirling 2008).

4 Nuclear waste deliberations in “mixed” discursive spheres: three cases

In the following, the performance of the mixed deliberative arenas, created within the three cases studied in this article, will be analysed in the light of the three functions of participation. This will help to assess the degree to which these deliberative mechanisms indeed succeeded in bridging the micro–macro divide.

The Finnish case study examines the 2-year EIA process, which was followed first by the decision by the Municipal Council of Eurajoki, in January 2000, to accept a final disposal facility of radioactive waste in its territory, and subsequently, in May 2001, by the ratification by Parliament (votes 159–3) of the government's Decision-in-Principle (DiP) on the final disposal site. A key milestone in the history of radioactive waste management planning in Finland had been established through a Parliament DiP from 1983, which laid down a long-term strategy for nuclear waste management, including a timetable and an R&D plan. Two decisions taken in 1994, in turn, laid the basis for a “deliberative turn” in Finnish nuclear waste management: the ban on waste exports put an end to the practice of sending nuclear waste to Russia, while the adoption of an EIA law forced companies to strengthen their capacities in participatory planning processes. An EIA became therefore an obligatory step preceding the licensing process of nuclear installations. 6 The nuclear waste management company, Posiva, started planning what was to be called the ‘EIA of the century’, an exceptionally ambitious and extensive effort in citizen engagement (Hokkanen and Kojo 2003). As developer, Posiva was responsible for organising the interaction procedures within the EIA, whereas the Ministry of Trade and Industry (MTI) operated as the co-ordination authority. Posiva applied an exceptionally wide range of methods, including articles published in local newspapers, public hearings, workshops, focus groups, exhibitions, bus excursions to Eurajoki, as well as videos and internet pages (Hokkanen and Kojo 2003; Leskinen and Turtiainen 2002).

The second case analyses the UK CoRWM, an independent body, composed of 11 independent members 7 recruited through a public appointment process and representing a broad range of expertise, set up in 2003 to inform government policy on the country's legacy radioactive waste. The setting-up of CoRWM was motivated by the long history of failed attempts in the 1990s to solve the nuclear waste problems, and by the criticism against the allegedly opaque and secretive style of the country's nuclear waste management policy. The committee had an explicit mandate to inspire public trust, which it sought to achieve through its plural composition, openness to public inputs and an approach integrating strong scientific analysis with public and stakeholder engagement (PSE) (Chilvers and Burgess 2008). CoRWM engaged over 5000 people in 8 discussion groups, 4 citizens' panels, an open access online discussion guide, a schools' project, a national stakeholder forum, stakeholder roundtables at 14 nuclear sites, open meetings, consultation documents and correspondence by letter or e-mail (CoRWM 2006: 6). In its final report, released in July 2006, the committee gave 15 specific recommendations relating both to the waste management solutions and the processes through which decisions concerning the management should be taken. It concluded that under the current state of the knowledge, geological disposal was the best option, but should be supported by a robust programme of research on interim storage. With regard to decision-making processes, CoRWM emphasised the principle of volunteerism in site selection, as well as the importance of continuous public and stakeholder involvement (CoRWM 2006).

The third case looks at the 4-month debate organised under the auspices of the French CNDP in 2005–2006, to inform parliamentary debate on a draft bill on nuclear waste management. CNDP is an independent public organisation created in 1995, with a mandate to organise public debates and ensure public participation in infrastructure projects of national interest, which have significant socio-economic or environmental impacts or implications for land use planning. A group of six independent experts representing a range of expertise, a ‘Commission particulière du débat public’ (CPDP), is set up to organise and facilitate the debate. 8 Interested parties are invited to submit position papers, which the CPDP uses to compile a summary view from the participants. CPDP then often invites new participants to provide counter-appraisals, as was the case also in the waste debate. Within 3 months from the end of the 4-month debate, the developer must inform about its decision and the way in which it has taken the debate into account in decision-making. The CNDP's operating principles are very close to those of the Habermasian deliberative democracy, 9 and the commission has the mandate to ensure that the voices of the less powerful get heard. The CNDP does not have decision-making power, nor does it give recommendations.

Two other nuclear-related CNDP debates were held in parallel with the waste debate: one on the construction of a new European Pressurised Reactor (EPR) plant in Flamanville, and another on the high-voltage transmission line designed to link the EPR to the national grid. The debates were held in an atmosphere of general scepticism, following the national debate on energy policy in 2004–2005, which was condemned by many as “seriously flawed”. The waste debate resulted in the adoption by parliament of the law on nuclear waste management, which recommended the continuation of research into different management options, and ensuring the reversibility of the management options (CNDP 2006a).

The three cases of decision-making on radioactive waste management in mixed deliberative settings will in the following be analysed against the three functions of participation described above in section 3 ( Table 1).

Table 1. The three functions of participation.

Normative	Instrumental	Substantive
Resources Openness Equal representation Accessibility (practical  arrangements) Impartial facilitation of the process Transparency Accountability “Policy uptake” and empowerment	Dialogue as a means to predetermined sectional objectives Building legitimacy and trust in government, authorities and public decisions	Integration of a wide range of values, knowledge and discourses Opening up of perspectives

4.1 The normative function: good deliberation

In terms of the criteria of equity, inclusiveness and representation, all three mechanisms went beyond the minimum requirements in participatory practice and citizen consultation, and sought actively to achieve equal representation of different interests and stakeholder groups. The CoRWM experience stands out, with its explicit endorsement of a “participative, inclusive, deliberative approach to public and stakeholder engagement” (CoRWM 2006: 44) including by seeking an appropriate geographical, gender, class and age balance (CoRWM 2006: 48), and applying a wide range of methods of stakeholder engagement in order to attract a diversity of actors. The Finnish EIA followed the letter of the legislation, and went to a certain extent beyond the minimum requirements: the process was exceptionally long, and significant efforts were made to ensure that citizens were aware of the events (Leskinen and Turtiainen, 2002). However, no measures were taken to help groups with special needs (the youth, the elderly, the handicapped, etc.) to participate (CoRWM 2006).

Imbalance of resources between participants, and budgetary constraints in the cases of CoRWM and the CNDP, were identified as major shortcomings in all three processes (see e.g. CoRWM 2006: 136). For instance, in the Finnish EIA, no resources made available to facilitate participation by weaker groups, and the sums of money given to five NGOs to assist their information production were very modest. 10

Open access to information by all participants was the starting point of all three processes. However, access to information became a major issue in the French debate, when the government demanded the removal of a statement that had appeared in the pre-submission to the CNDP debate on the EPR reactor by the anti-nuclear network “Réseau sortir du nucléaire”. The government argued that the statement contained information classified as confidential under the defence secrecy legislation. This controversy contributed to the decision by five national anti-nuclear NGOs that had already withdrawn from the EPR debate to boycott the waste debate as well. In the Finnish EIA process, Posiva was not accused of concealing or manipulating information, but its virtual monopoly in knowledge-production did generate criticism. Posiva was also criticised for “drowning” the citizens in information overflow (Rosenberg 1999: 271). CoRWM's activity again stood out as exemplary, thanks in particular to its specific transparency policy and a publication scheme, designed to facilitate public access to information (CoRWM 2006: 31). And yet, information became a topic of controversy in CoRWM work, not least because the Secretary of the State for the Environment sacked one of its members – a radiological health expert – while another resigned, “in protest and despair” (Ball 2006: 2), engendered by the alleged dominance of “cultural relativism” within CoRWM, the disregard for the principles of evidence-based policy, and the neglect of earlier research on waste management options (Ball 2005). All of these charges levelled against the committee were strenuously resisted and countered by the rest of its members.

The CoRWM process probably enhanced citizens' “empowerment”, as most participants said they would be willing to obtain further information on radioactive waste management and participate in similar events in the future, and citizen response to the various engagement activities organised by the Committee was overwhelmingly positive (CoRWM 2006).

The Finnish EIA and the CNDP debate had more ambiguous impacts on empowerment. On the one hand, Hokkanen and Kojo (2003) considered that the EIA played a positive role in providing an outlet for citizens' concerns and frustrations, and some observers described the CNDP as an arena for different voices to be heard, which thereby actually helped to alleviate inequalities (Blondiaux 2008b). 11 On the other hand, especially the anti-nuclear campaigners saw the events merely as tools employed by the nuclear advocates to legitimise their preferred and chosen option, i.e. geological disposal. One anti-nuclear activist described the EIA as “frustrating theatre”, with each actor playing to her pre-defined script, fully aware that the EIA would have no impact on decision-making (Rosenberg 2007). Thanks to the massive disequilibria of power between the participants, Posiva was able to absorb and integrate critical views so as to strengthen the disposal concept – an outcome opposite to the objectives of the critics (Rosenberg 2007). In a similar manner, French anti-nuclear groups criticised the “bogus” debate, conducted under completely unequal premises (e.g. Lhomme 2006), while some lamented the unclear objectives and rules of the debate, its inability to genuinely engage the public and go beyond mere provision of information, resulting in greater rather than reduced asymmetries of power between the participants (Ballan et al. 2007). The French debate was criticised for the excessively formal rules, which limited spontaneity and true dialogue (Ballan et al. 2007), while some anti-nuclear groups were accused of having spread misleading propaganda (Nifenecker 2006).

4.2 Substantive rationale: opening-up of perspectives?

All three processes struggled to find the right level and scope for the debate. In the Finnish EIA, the developer chose a strictly legalistic approach, consistently limiting the debate to site selection and dismissing comments relating to nuclear policy (Leskinen and Turtiainen 2002; Hokkanen and Kojo 2003: 44). The absence of alternatives was a recurrent complaint especially by NGOs. Hence, in the preparation of the EIA process, the MTI required Posiva to also analyse options other than long-term geological disposal, in particular, the “zero option”. Posiva obeyed, and examined other options, but only in a cursory manner, yet the MTI did not see this as a problem. Hokkanen and Kojo (2003) argue that the ministry thereby merely sought to “cover its back” in anticipation of potential criticism from the public, rather than to genuinely broaden the scope of analysis. The company justified the narrow scoping by referring to safety, international agreements (legal ban on waste exports from Finland in 1994), and the absence of technical alternatives to geological disposal (Leskinen and Turtiainen 2002).

Unlike the Finnish EIA, CoRWM sought deliberately to open up the debate and integrate different types of knowledge, especially through the citizen and stakeholder engagement programme. The Committee membership was designed to accommodate “a range of issues, including scientific, technical, ethical, legal, economic, and social ones” (CoRWM 2006: 56). However, CoRWM drew criticism for its decision to start from a “clean table” and open up the debate to a wide range of management options, a choice made largely in response to reactions from citizens (Ball 2005). This controversy served a useful purpose in fuelling discussion on the role of expertise in decision-making. A further slight criticism maintained that CoRWM's decision to merely “consult” citizens via weighting rather than actively engaging them in scoring and judging the performance of different options (in the context of the Multi-Criteria Decision Analysis) may have maintained fact/value distinctions and limited opportunities for “active citizenship” (Chilvers and Burgess 2008: 1892).

In France, the CNDP has an explicit mandate to guarantee the pluralism of perspectives, and can relatively freely choose the means by which to reach this objective. Like CoRWM, it deliberately brought to the debates independent – and often international – “counter-expertise”, which sometimes stirred controversy, 12 but whose value was broadly recognised (GC 2006: 71). The waste debate illustrated the capacity of CNDP to generate surprise (Mermet 2007) and facilitate the crystallisation of new points of view (Chateauraynaud et al. 2005), as permanent above-ground storage emerged as a serious option (CNDP 2006c: 15). The opening-up of perspectives is also enhanced by the fact that the CPDP members are often academics or retired people, holding views different from those of the developers (Blondiaux 2008b). The openness of the chairman of the CPDP was considered as elemental for the quality of the waste debate (Barthe 2008). In conclusion, the process helped bring new perspectives and changed the rhetoric in radioactive waste management policy (GC 2006: 64). However, though the three nuclear-related debates were organised in parallel in order to ensure proper articulation between the interrelated topics, for many citizens the rationale behind this separation of the debates remained unclear (CNDP 2006b: 7). This arrangement also prevented broader discussions on French nuclear policy, which anti-nuclear groups posed as a primary condition for their participation (Lhomme 2006).

4.3 Instrumental function: legitimacy and legitimisation

Instrumental rationales were to varying degrees present in all of the three cases. In Finland, Posiva's change towards a more communicative and dialogical strategy was motivated by the need to ensure local acceptance for disposal. Support from local politicians alone was no longer enough, when the EIA legislation required citizen participation, the threat of a local referendum was looming, and local opinion surveys showed opposition to waste disposal (Kojo 2005; Leskinen and Turtiainen 2002). The EIA process was therefore also a valuable tool for Posiva to obtain information about the local opinions and helped the company to adjust its strategy accordingly (Hokkanen and Kojo 2003).

The MTI's requirement that Posiva should extend the number of options analysed can be interpreted in light of the instrumental rationale, as an attempt to show that the spirit of the EIA legislation had been followed, and to demonstrate that the ministry was independent of the developer. 13 The numerous sceptical comments by citizens suggest that the EIA process probably did little to inspire trust among citizens. As so often, the EIA became a source of added legitimacy for decisions that had already been taken in other arenas (Hokkanen and Kojo 2003).

In contrast, both CoRWM's self-assessment (CoRWM 2006) and comments made by a number of observers of UK nuclear policy (e.g. Dorfman 2008) suggest that the committee had, indeed, inspired public trust in government and radioactive waste management institutions. However, about half-way through CoRWM's mandate period, and quite irrespective of the quality of Committee's deliberations, this “legitimate” instrumental function began to give way to another one, less in line with the principles of deliberative democracy, as the government used CoRWM conclusions to legitimise its newly-found commitment to nuclear new-build. Rather than opening up the process to alternative framings, the government sought to inspire trust in a specific technical solution, arguing that CoRWM had demonstrated the existence of a safe and durable solution to the waste problem, despite the fact that CoRWM's mandate only included the UK legacy radioactive waste. In doing so, the government failed to mention the conditions evoked by CoRWM – in anticipation of potential misuse of its conclusions in the new political context: to become a “solution”, the long-term disposal “approach” would need to be backed by an intensified R&D programme into its long-term safety. CoRWM also called for flexibility, leaving open the possibility that new management options might emerge with time (Blowers 2008). Most importantly, the government disregarded CoRWM's explicit statement that its conclusions should be seen neither as green nor red light for nuclear new build, in particular since the mandate of the committee had been limited to the analysis of UK legacy radioactive waste. This legitimisation may well fail and prove counterproductive to the government's original objective of enhancing public trust in government institutions (Chilvers and Burgess 2008; Dorfman 2008).

The French CNDP waste debate was accused especially by anti-nuclear NGOs for primarily serving to legitimise nuclear technocracy's and the government's existing policy agenda, designed to lead inevitably to long-term geological disposal. The debate was deemed “false” and not to have any impact on decision-making whatsoever (Lhomme 2006). However, even the critics recognised that, given the difficult initial situation, the CNDP had rather successfully resisted pressures from vested interests and protected its own integrity. The shift in the target of NGO criticism from the CNDP to the government was one of the signs of CNDP's strengthened legitimacy (Chateauraynaud et al. 2005). And yet, the capacity-building in the area of participatory methods prompted by the establishment of the CNDP probably has also pushed the nuclear industry to sharpen and refine its marketing strategies serving purely instrumental purposes.

4.4 From participation to deliberative democracy: the influence of micro and mixed deliberation within the macro discursive sphere

The above brief analysis has focused on the ways in which the processes and outcomes of the participatory processes served the three general functions of participation. However, from the perspective of deliberative democracy, the actual impacts of deliberation deserve special attention. These include, on the one hand, one aspect of the normative function of participation, i.e. the “policy uptake” (influence of the processes on decision-making on nuclear waste management), and, on the other hand, the broader impacts of participation on the deliberative system.

The results of the Finnish EIA were designed to inform policy at two levels – the decision by Eurajoki municipal council on whether to accept a radioactive waste disposal site in its territory and the subsequent parliamentary debates on the adoption of a DiP on final disposal. The impacts of the EIA on both processes were modest (Litmanen et al. 1999; Hokkanen 2001: 139; Hokkanen and Kojo 2003). The EIA outcomes did not influence the contents of the DiP, and the many opinions critical towards Posiva's Environmental Impact Statement expressed during the EIA process were not mentioned in the DiP. The only tangible contribution from the EIA process was the inclusion of retrievability within the disposal concept (Hokkanen and Kojo 2003). While potentially significant, the true impact of this decision has been called into question, since it did not imply any fundamental change in Posiva's original disposal concept. In contrast, despite the reassurances prior to the approval of the DiP that the decision would only concern research activities, the DiP decision was soon afterwards used by nuclear advocates as a proof that a safe and durable solution to the waste problem had been found, and that this obstacle to new build had been removed (Hassi 2002; Lammi 2004).

In its detailed response to CoRWM recommendations on the management of legacy radioactive waste (Defra 2006), the UK government in principle endorsed all 15 recommendations, but clearly highlighted the conclusion that geological disposal was “the best available approach”. The government hence downplayed the caveats made by CoRWM, namely that intensified research on the safety of geological disposal was needed (CoRWM 2006: 113), and that the process should allow for the possibility that more advanced management options might emerge in the future (CoRWM 2006: 114; Dorfman 2008: 26). The government was more circumspect on what CoRWM's recommendation of a voluntarist and partnership approach to site selection would mean in practice (Defra 2006: 13). CoRWM was re-established in 2008, yet given a significantly more limited mandate than its predecessor, akin to traditional advisory bodies. However, even the new, more “traditional” CoRWM retained stakeholder engagement as a core principle (Defra 2006: 16).

The French CNDP debates differ from the EIA and CoRWM in that they are designed without an intention to provide advice or recommendations to policy-making. While such ‘deliberate powerlessness’ seems to run against the principles of deliberative democracy, it may also be an effective way to minimise the risks of manipulation and strategic action. Furthermore, the CNDP debates do in fact influence policies indirectly, on the one hand, since developers anticipate the issues more likely to appear in the debates, and on the other, because to remain legitimate, developers must justify their decisions with reference to the various views expressed during the CNDP debates (Blondiaux 2008b). The lack of policy influence obviously has its serious shortcomings, notably the risk of fuelling cynicism and reducing citizens' motivation to participate. 14 The government's declaration, in advance of the CNDP debate, that it had decided to launch the construction of an EPR in Flamanville, fed cynicism into the waste debate as well, despite the otherwise more favourable starting point of the CNDP waste debate (GC 2006: 61).

5 Power resources in the macro discursive sphere: knowledge-production monopolies and the trust in institutions

The above analysis pointed out a number of aspects affecting the quality of deliberation, and the impact that deliberations had on policy-making. While each case had its own specific strengths and weaknesses that affected the quality of deliberation, from a micro deliberative perspective, all three can be considered worthy attempts at genuine deliberation. From this angle, the main difference was probably the control of the deliberative process: in Finland, the developer had the responsibility of organising the process, whereas both CoRWM and the CNDP built on the principle of independence, i.e. the micro and mixed deliberation were organised by a body independent of the interested parties and decision-making bodies.

However, in order to assess and explain the true potential of the three deliberative mechanisms to influence policy, one needs to look beyond the formal power structures, and examine more closely the exercise of discursive power in the “macro” sphere. In all cases, the inequality between participants in the broader macro discursive sphere favoured forces seeking to close down the framings and perspectives, and fostered instrumental rather than normative and substantive functions of deliberation. Especially in France and in Finland, pressures to restrict the framings in the mixed deliberative forums led precisely to the kind of “wallpaper democracy” that Parkinson (2007) has warned against, i.e. a situation in which participants are only allowed to deliberate on issues of relatively minor importance.

In the Finnish case, the hegemonic position of the discourse around the developer's concept of long-term geological disposal (e.g. Lammi 2004; Litmanen 2009) systematically prevented the opening up of perspectives. In the UK, the “opening up” achieved through the highly deliberative CoWRM process was followed by a subsequent “closing down” and appropriation of CoRWM for legitimisation purposes once leading voices in the government had decided to support nuclear new-build. Finally, the French CNDP debates were surrounded by an atmosphere of scepticism, as critics highlighted the disequilibria of power that were seen to prevent a debate on an equal footing. The CNDP had to, on the one hand, battle against the developer, who sought to close down debates, and, on the other hand, prevent the deliberation from turning into manipulation in reaction to pressures from the macro sphere.

The recent reframing of nuclear energy as a solution to the problems of climate change and energy security affected deliberations in the UK (Tweena 2006; Bickerstaff et al. 2008), and to a somewhat lesser extent in Finland (Berg 2009). 15 Such reframing was partly a result of persistent lobbying and skilful media offensive on part of the industry, but it was further facilitated by the choices of the anti-nuclear NGOs that had left the discursive field open for domination by nuclear advocates. Their decisions to effectively dismantle anti-nuclear campaigns were informed by the misjudgement that “nuclear was dead”. The reframing posed further problems for the NGOs, which hence found it necessary to reorient their old argumentation centred around risks and safety by an emphasis on the potential of renewables and the costs of nuclear. Unaccustomed to operating in the field of economic argumentation, the NGOs were at pains to demonstrate their credibility. As so often, the NGOs faced a difficult choice between the modes of deliberation – whether to participate in the organised mixed forums of deliberation, and if so, what should be the right balance between consensus-seeking deliberation and campaigning in the macro discursive sphere? The Finnish NGOs have, also in this respect, been “obedient”, whereas the major national NGOs in France opted for boycott. The fact that CoRWM was not boycotted by NGOs tells about the quality of the committee's work, whereas the subsequent Energy Review – called also nuclear consultation 16 – triggered major protest and even a court case that proved victorious for Greenpeace (e.g. MacKerron 2009).

What made the control and discursive hegemony possible in the macro sphere, and constituted a common thread throughout the three cases, was the domination of knowledge production by the nuclear technocracy. The “knowledge-production monopoly” manifested itself differently in the three cases. In Finland, the hegemonic position of an alliance centred around the MTI, together with Posiva, the safety authority (Säteilyturvakeskus (STUK)) and the state technical research institute (Valtion Teknillinen Tutkimuskeskus (VTT)) meant that virtually no research had been conducted on other waste management options than long-term geological disposal (Litmanen 2009). Alternative technical solutions coming from the outside were unavoidably underdeveloped and easy to shoot down by the “established experts” as amateurish and non-authoritative. Despite the openness and transparency of the Finnish legal and administrative system, the discursive sphere within nuclear energy policy remains in the hands of the few.

Also in the UK, knowledge production has traditionally been concentrated in the hands of the energy ministry and the groups close to it. The establishment of CoRWM was part of a short interlude, during which Prime Minister Blair made a historic step towards less technocratic and more politics-led decision-making, as part of the strategic planning of long-term energy policy was removed from the Department of Trade and Industry (DTI), and a more transparent and consultative style of energy policy was introduced (MacKerron 2009). 17 Despite the fact that CoRWM was soon instrumentalised to legitimise government's new conviction that new nuclear was indeed needed, two factors suggest that the domination of macro discursive sphere by the nuclear technocracy is weaker in the UK than in Finland, and that CoRWM may indeed have left durable marks in the British democracy. First, CoRWM seems to have become a standard against which to judge the quality of policy processes, as the controversy surrounding the allegedly non-inclusive nuclear consultation in 2006 and the plans to “streamline” the planning procedures for new nuclear installations have demonstrated (Greenpeace 2007; Dorfman 2008; MacKerron 2009). Second, the fact that CoRWM indeed sailed through the early disputes concerning the role and nature of different types of expertise demonstrated not only the integrity of CoRWM itself, but also the contested nature of the discourse of “sound science” and “evidence-based policy” in the UK macro discursive sphere.

Finally, the French nuclear technocracy, represented notably by the engineering elites of “Corps des Mines”, has been notorious for its lack of transparency (e.g. Gilbert and Bourdeaux 2006; Schneider 2008) 18. Since the 1980s, the state “nucleocracy” has gradually begun to open up, in response to public demand, difficulties to gain public acceptance for radioactive waste disposal, and the public outcry once the cover-up of the impacts of Chernobyl accident by the government was revealed. Both the opening up of the radioactive waste policy to new options and new participants through the Bataille Law from 1991 (Barthe 2006), and the emergence of “counter-expertise” in the area of nuclear safety (Topçu 2008), contrasts with the Finnish situation. Independent laboratories were established by scientist and NGOs to measure radioactivity in regions with high concentration of nuclear installations, 19 and were subsequently given an official status. The “independent expert” still remains a category of uncertain status in France, yet the secrecy and hegemony of the nuclear technocracy in France have been gradually reduced over the years. Factors contributing to this “opening up” include the establishment of “Local Information Commissions” (CLIs Commissions locales d information) to inform populations in the proximity of nuclear installations, the institutionalisation of counter-expertise, and the activities of “whistle-blowers” (Chateauraynaud and Torny 1999; Topçu 2006; Gadbois et al. 2007; Miserey 2007; Topçu 2008).

The absence of independent counter-expertise can be seen as a weakness of the Finnish deliberative system, and helps to explain why the extensive EIA process seems to have produced little in the way of truly deliberative democracy. The Finnish society can be characterised as one in which “people trust each other, corruption is rare and social morals are high” (Litmanen 2009: 196). These elements of trust are in turn buttressed by faith in enlightenment, in state institutions, in technology and in the bureaucracy, but low levels of trust in political parties (Litmanen 2009: 197). In forming their opinions and arguments concerning nuclear matters, parliamentarians tend to rely heavily on experts with a strong institutional background, such as university professors and government officials, while NGOs are easily seen as biased in their anti-nuclear arguments (Berg 2009: 114–115). The prevailing belief in the morally and ethically irreproachable behaviour of the “official” experts, the image of the infallible Finnish engineer as the ultimate guarantor of safety, 20 lack of a tradition in radical NGO activism, and the absence of major safety incidents in the Finnish reactors, help to explain why independent expertise and citizen participation may seem to Finns as unnecessary or even harmful for the proper functioning of the society.

Now, contrast this with the “institutional scepticism” (Bickerstaff et al. 2008) towards government institutions that prevails in the UK, but also to a certain extent in France. 21 The NGOs and researchers are seen as the most trusted organisations in the UK and France in the area of nuclear energy, with the nuclear industry and the government generally ranking the lowest (Anon 2006; Bickerstaff et al. 2008: 155; Grove-White et al. 2006: 239; Schneider 2008). Finnish results from the nuclear municipality of Eurajoki show almost opposite results (Kojo et al. 2008). Moreover, the high - some would say almost blind - confidence expressed by Finns in the safety of long-term disposal contrasts with the rather lucid perception among the French that “zero risk” is unattainable, and that the objective must therefore be to manage the inevitable risks as well as possible (d'Iribarne 2005). A Eurobarometer study conducted in October–November 2006 (Lesourne 2008) provided further evidence for the differences in trust towards NGOs in the three countries: while about half of the French and British respondents wished that NGOs participate in decision-making concerning their country's energy and nuclear policies, this percentage was only 37% among the Finns. Moreover, while a large proportion of Finns wished to be personally consulted, the percentage of people ready to leave these matters wholly to the hands of authorities was higher in Finland (31%) than in France and the UK (both 24%).

6 Bridging the micro-macro divide: which of the three cases was “best”?

In light of these country specificities, what can be said about the relative success of the three deliberative mechanisms in taking into account and properly addressing the micro–macro interaction? To what extent were the three mechanisms able to overcome the structural limitations, and foster not only deliberation at the micro scale, but to enhance the emergence of a “healthy” deliberative system (Hendriks 2006; Dryzek and Hendriks 2010)?

The Finnish EIA process suffered from the strong dominance of the macro discursive sphere by the nuclear establishment, which effectively prevented the EIA process from going much beyond a formally correct bureaucratic exercise capable of producing information that may, in a favourable case, prove useful in the future. The legalistic approach and the rigidly defined legal and administrative pathway of decision-making, together with the domination of the macro discursive sphere by a hegemonic pro-nuclear discourse left little room for opening up of perspectives. However, one may with good reason ask whether the EIA had any realistic chances, within the Finnish legislative and administrative system, to promote of truly integrated deliberative system. The experience from the waste EIA suggests that the traditional strengths of the Finnish democracy – notably the high degree of trust in state bureaucracy and institutionalised experts – may impede the emergence of a vibrant civil society and a “healthy” deliberative system.

The operation of CoRWM can seem like a model for deliberative democracy. Its working methods respected the fundamental procedural principles of deliberative democracy, but the committee also made constant efforts to address the limitations and exploit the opportunities provided by the macro discursive sphere. An example of such sensitivity was the way in which CoRWM anticipated and sought to minimise the risk of its conclusions being used manipulatively in the new policy context where nuclear new-build was re-emerging as a serious policy option. Perhaps the most lasting effect of the committee's work has been that it set the standard for good policy practice, and thereby contributed to the creation and maintenance of norms of deliberative democracy. Yet, the evolution of policy debate since CoRWM submitted its conclusions also illustrates the limitations of micro accounts of deliberative democracy: the exemplary way in which micro and mixed deliberation were organised did not prevent the government and nuclear advocates from using CoRWM recommendations in order to legitimise their views. The impact of the committee's work on deliberative democracy therefore remains ambiguous, with CoRWM, on the one hand, establishing norms for deliberation, and, on the other hand, generating frustration and disillusionment among many of those involved in the committee's work.

Among the three cases, the French CNDP was perhaps the one that most explicitly tackled the inequalities in the macro discursive sphere. Remaining true to its ethos and explicit mandate within the Habermasian deliberative democracy, it constantly sought to even out the inherent asymmetries of power between participants. While the CNDP debates had little direct policy impact, the indirect influence is likely to be significant: the CNDP has gradually carved out for itself a niche amongst the state institutions as a norm-setter and guardian of the principles of deliberative democracy.

The constant danger of the instrumental function of deliberation taking over in all the three cases demonstrates the enduring fragility of mixed and micro deliberative arrangements in the face of strategic power play within the broader discursive sphere. One of the most recent examples comes from the recent success of radical contestation movements in France to prevent CNDP-organised debates on nanotechnologies and the construction of a new EPR nuclear plant from taking place. The cases analysed in this article remind us of the constant danger of even genuine attempts of empowering and engaging citizens in deliberation being undermined by pressures from the macro discursive sphere. The examples from the three cases have underlined the difficulty – if not impossibility – of a straightforward assessment of the quality of an individual deliberative experiment. Finally, the analysis raises interesting questions in the light of the argument put forward by Dryzek and Hendriks (2010) (see also Hendriks 2006) that political systems should seek to facilitate multiple “deliberative spaces”, so as to feed policy by a diverse range of argumentation and communication. In particular, the Finnish deliberative system may suffer from lack of diversity, with low legitimacy of the more vocal and direct expressions of deliberation in the macro discursive sphere in particular. The overwhelming importance given to the formal representative democracy and the “domesticated” and reasoned deliberation may obscure the influence of the power asymmetries on the functioning of the broader deliberative system.

Finally, while this article essentially relied on secondary sources of data, notably analyses conducted by researchers and observers participating in the deliberative mechanisms in question, further research might usefully focus on case studies building on primary data (e.g. interviews and participant observation) on the one hand, and complement this article's discursive emphasis by including the analysis of the broader socio-technical system on the other.

Notes

 1. Despite the impossibility, in most deliberative situations, of including all affected parties, the principle of maximum appropriate inclusiveness is among the founding principles of deliberative democracy. Beyond the simple numerical representation, the relevant actors need to be involved authentically, i.e. as legitimate and recognised participants in deliberation.

 2. While no formal interviews were conducted in the UK, the documentary analysis was complemented by interviews conducted within a research project exploring the role of indicators in UK energy policy, as well as by more informal discussions with energy policy experts and stakeholders in the country, including two members of the deliberative forum analysed, i.e. the Committee on Radioactive Waste Management (CoRWM). In particular, these interviews and discussions provided crucial information on the macro discursive sphere of UK energy policy.

 3. For instance, politicians and state bureaucrats can therefore be central actors in the macro spheres to the extent that they participate in public opinion formation.

 4. For instance, Goodin and Dryzek (2006) have analysed the impacts of “mini-publics” on policies, yet their definition of “mini-publics” is slightly different from that of micro deliberation in Hendriks' account. For Goodin and Dryzek (2006: 221), the “macro” refers to “the larger political system and its need for collective decisions”, while the “mini-publics” are designs of small groups in which people deliberate together, and which have some claim to broader representativeness.

 5. For Hendriks (2006: 499), a “discursive sphere is a site where public discourse occurs through the exposition and discussion of different viewpoints”. These spheres include parliaments, stakeholder round tables, committee meetings, party rooms, expert committees, community fora, public seminars, church events, etc.

 6. The process begins by a Decision-in-Principle ratified by parliament, and is followed by a construction licence and an operating licence from the government.

 7. The initial group of 13 members was reduced to 11, as a result of the sacking of one and voluntary resignation of another expert. The members were independent academics and consultants; policy officials and citizen activists with experience from nuclear policy and representing a range of expertise including economics, physics and radiation biology; policy analysis and stakeholder engagement; social sciences; policy analysis; law; environmental management and planning; and radiological protection.

 8. The CPDP set up to organise the debate on radioactive waste was chaired by a professor of sociology of technology and innovation, while the other members included an environment and health journalist; the honorary chairman of the administrative tribunal of Marseilles; a professor of chemistry and radiochemistry; a research director specialised in nuclear physics; and a specialist in facilitation of expert group work.

 9. The Habermasian deliberative democracy adopts as its key normative starting point the so-called ideal speech situation, characterised by the absence of any other force than that of the better argument. Rather than representativeness in terms of traditional interest group representation, the Habermasian ideal therefore emphasises equity between the participants and equal, unconstrained access to deliberation by all participants.

10. The MTI granted a total of 34,647 euros as financial aid to five NGOs in support of their information efforts, yet this amount is negligible in relation to the PR resources invested by Posiva in making its voice heard, and even in relation to the municipality of Helsinki's general support to NGOs (Leskinen and Turtiainen 2002: 44).

11. The chairman of the CNDP, in turn, concluded that the debate had been “serene”, had not been intentionally perturbed by anyone, allowed all opinions to be voiced, had been accompanied by an exposition seen by 54,000 visitors, and had generated significant interest by the press (CNDP, 2006a: 3).

12. An example of such controversies stemmed from the critique by an American consultancy firm, IEER (Institute for Energy and Environmental Research) against the studies undertaken by ANDRA on the safety of its waste management concept (Chateauraynaud et al. 2005).

13. Citizens frequently raised doubts about the neutrality of the MTI, and saw it as a part of the pro-nuclear lobby.

14. A French NGO representative noted that had he known in advance how little impact participation in the CNDP debate would have on decision-making, his NGO certainly would have concentrated their efforts on campaigning, instead of participating in the CNDP debate (GC 2006: 64).

15. Berg (2009) notes that an “environmentally-grounded” pro-nuclear discourse was present in the Finnish debate already in the late 1980s. Therefore, the reframing may have been less pronounced. This interpretation receives support from the opinion surveys that have measured the attitudes concerning the role of nuclear power in reducing dependence on energy imports and combating climate change. Finns (together with citizens in other Nordic countries) seem to have more faith than their French and British counterparts in the virtues of nuclear power both in providing greater energy independence and in limiting global warming (Lesourne 2008).

16. In January 2006, the government released a hastily put-together consultation document in preparation of a new Energy White Paper by the end of that year. Only 12 weeks were allowed for written responses to the consultation, and neither wide-ranging stakeholder engagement nor any direct public involvement were organised. The official reasons given by the government for the new review were the instability of world energy markets and the increasing dependence on gas imports, especially from Russia (DTI 2006). However, according to a number of observers, a significant, if not the main, reason for a new review was the government's desire to bring back nuclear energy to consideration as a serious energy supply alternative (FoE 2007; Lovell et al. 2009).

17. This perception of a temporary anomaly that the years in early 2000s represented in the UK energy policy has been confirmed in a number of interviews conducted by the author in the framework of a research project concerning the role of indicators and evidence in UK energy policy.

18. The engineers from the prestigious Ecole des Mines constitute a community of technical experts with similar educational and professional background, frequently referred to as the “Corps des Mines”. The governance of nuclear power in France has remained virtually closed to experts coming from outside this privileged community.

19. ACRO (Association pour le contrôle de la radioactivité à l'Ouest) in Normandy and CRIIRAD (Commission de recherche et d'information indépendantes sur la radioactivité) in the south-east of France.

20. Lammi (2004) refers to such a mythical belief in describing how the admission by Posiva of the impossibility to provide reliable risk assessments extending tens of thousands of years into the future in essence amounted to a recognition that the company's risk assessments relied on rule-of-thumb estimates made by the engineers. That safety issues nevertheless hardly generated discussion in Parliament demonstrates the degree of respect that the ‘Finnish engineer’ enjoys in society.

21. The French scepticism is particularly oriented towards the business, finance and nuclear lobby, while the scientific community and experts are kept in relatively high esteem (d'Iribarne 2005).