Like a modern-day Pompeii, the streets and buildings of Prypyat stand frozen by a disaster. But, unlike the eruption of Mount Vesuvius nearly 2,000 years ago, Prypyat was destroyed by a manmade - and thus preventable - catastrophe.

Weeds and gray desolation are all that thrive in this once-bustling community, which housed the workers of Chernobyl's doomed nuclear power plant, whose devastating meltdown 26 years ago still inflicts physical and socioeconomic harm on many in Ukraine and nearby countries.

Back then, the world was, for an instant, shocked by the folly of nuclear technology. But, as with Hiroshima, Three Mile Island, and last year's Fukushima meltdown in Japan, the spike in global dismay was all too fleeting.

This myopia is a symptom of steady population growth, coupled with consumption-driven economies and ever-increasing demand for cheap energy. But the risks clearly outweigh the alleged benefits. While nuclear energy's advocates often claim that there have been only two major calamities, a very different picture emerges if we consider other "accidents" that caused loss of human life or significant property damage.

Between 1952 and 2009, at least 99 nuclear accidents met this definition worldwide, at a cost of more than US$20.5 billion, or more than one incident and US$330 million in damage every year. This recurrence rate demonstrates that many risks are not being properly managed or regulated. The meltdown of a 500-megawatt reactor located 50 kilometers (31 miles) from a city would cause the immediate death of an estimated 45,000 people, injure roughly another 70,000, and cause US$17 billion in property damage.

During a visit to Chernobyl in April, I learned about a new project to build, by 2015, a "shelter" to lock in the radiation still emanating from the reactor. The price tag is estimated at US$1.9 billion. But this sarcophagus is no more than a wildly expensive Band-Aid, which will be ripped off a still-festering wound in 100 years, by which point, it is hoped, a permanent solution will have been found.

A 30-kilometer exclusion zone still rings Chernobyl, leaving once-fertile land unable to be tended by local farmers. In Belarus alone, roughly 8,000 square kilometers of farmland, an area almost the same size as all of Switzerland's agricultural terrain, has been rendered unusable for ages by radiation.

Then there is the issue of who pays to build such facilities. In principle, private capital does not flow to non-profit activities. In fact, it is flowing to renewable energy sources, not atomic.

'Cost-savings'

It is governments that finance nuclear plants. And the alleged "cost-savings" of nuclear power never include the price tag for governmental subsidies, decommissioning of aging facilities, and emergency clean-up and remediation of impacted communities when disasters occur.

At Fukushima, for example, the bill will include the costs of the heroic efforts by hundreds of workers to cool down the plant's reactors; the protracted loss of economic output in the 20-kilometer exclusion zone (estimated at US$128.5 billion by Roubini Global Economics); decommissioning and clean-up costs; and the costs of replacing 4.7 gigawatts of generating capacity. On top of that, there is the possibility of healthcare costs resulting from exposure to radioactivity.

All of these hidden costs make the price of nuclear energy higher than the price of shifting to renewable energies and improving energy efficiency.

Of course, with 15 countries relying on nuclear power for 25 percent or more of their electricity, we cannot abandon it overnight. On the contrary, nuclear plants will be with us for years to come.

But steps can be taken. For example, it is estimated that adequate measures for insulating buildings or devising new energy-savings systems could reduce our electricity bills by 20-40 percent. With roughly 15 percent of global electricity supplies produced by nuclear plants, energy-saving measures could go a long way toward diminishing the need for them.

Countries like Brazil, which relies on nuclear generation for 3 percent of its power, are moving in this direction. Officials there announced in May that the country would not develop its nuclear sector for the next decade, partly because of Fukushima. Brazil has thus sent a clear message to other emerging economies that sustainable growth must rely on renewable, safe sources of power.

Alexander Likhotal was an advisor to Mikhail Gorbachev when he was president of the USSR, and is currently president of Green Cross. Copyright: Project Syndicate, 2012.www.project-syndicate.org. Shanghai Daily condensed the article.