GUEST COLUMN
Learning from uranium’s past without fearing nuclear’s future
New Mexico does not have the luxury of historical amnesia.
From the Grants mineral belt to the shadow of Mount Taylor, Native communities in our state still live with the radioactive scars of the uranium boom. Abandoned mines, contaminated water, and broken promises are not distant history; they remain part of daily life for many Navajo, Acoma, Laguna, Zuni and other Indigenous families.
Those harms were real.
They were preventable.
And they were wrong.
They demand honesty — and they demand action.
That action includes accountability for those who paid the price. Uranium workers and Downwinders were exposed through no fault of their own, often without informed consent or adequate protection. The recent expansion of the Radiation Exposure Compensation Act (RECA) finally acknowledges that reality. For the first time, New Mexico Downwinders and post-1971 uranium workers are eligible for compensation — a one-time $100,000 payment — with claims open through Dec. 31, 2027.
That expansion matters. It reflects decades of advocacy and a long-overdue recognition that harm occurred here, not just elsewhere. Now the responsibility is delivery: outreach to rural and tribal communities, fair and timely claims processing and follow-through so eligible families actually receive the compensation now available to them.
If we stop the conversation there, we risk making a second mistake: allowing the failures of the past to block smarter, fairer energy decisions for the future. New Mexico cannot afford to ignore nuclear energy — both modern fission and future fusion — if we are serious about carbon-free power, grid reliability and long-term prosperity.
The lesson of our uranium legacy is not “never nuclear.”
It is “never like that again.”
What went wrong?
The uranium boom did not fail because nuclear science is inherently dangerous. It failed because of how it was carried out — and who bore the risks while others captured the rewards.
For decades, tribal lands and nearby rural communities were treated as sacrifice zones. Mines were dug, waste was left behind, and health risks were minimized or ignored. Cleanup was delayed, underfunded or avoided altogether. Tribal governments were sidelined instead of treated as sovereign partners.
Indigenous miners worked without adequate protection. Families relied on water sources later found to be contaminated. Sacred landscapes like Mount Taylor were treated as ore bodies rather than living cultural homelands. When the boom collapsed, jobs disappeared — but pollution remained.
That model was extractive, opaque, and dismissive of Native sovereignty. It failed morally, economically and politically. Any honest discussion about nuclear energy in New Mexico must begin by acknowledging that truth — plainly and without excuses.
Why nuclear still matters
Acknowledging that history does not change another hard reality: New Mexico needs dependable, carbon-free energy that works around the clock.
Wind and solar are essential parts of our energy mix, and we should continue to build them. But energy policy must be grounded in physics and reliability, not slogans. The sun sets. The wind can go calm for days. Large-scale storage remains expensive and limited. When demand spikes — especially during extreme heat — intermittent power alone cannot keep the lights on.
If we want a power system that is clean, affordable, and reliable 24 hours a day, we need firm, carbon-free generation. Nuclear provides exactly that.
It is also important to be clear about something often missing from the public conversation: The nuclear industry may be the most regulated energy sector in the country — and in the world.
In New Mexico, nuclear-related activities operate under continuous oversight from the New Mexico Environment Department, which actively regulates facilities and activities ranging from the Waste Isolation Pilot Plant to uranium mining and cleanup, as well as operations at Los Alamos National Laboratory and Sandia National Laboratories.
This formal regulatory structure is reinforced by constant public scrutiny. Nuclear activities in New Mexico are closely watched by environmental organizations, tribal governments, municipal and county officials, community advocates and the media. Hearings are public. Permits are contested. Records are reviewed. Mistakes are surfaced, not buried. That visibility matters. Accountability is layered, continuous, and public by design.
Modern nuclear technology is fundamentally different from the uranium era that scarred our state. Advanced fission reactors, including small modular designs, rely on passive safety systems that do not depend on human intervention or external power. They provide steady, carbon-free electricity that complements renewables rather than competing with them. Fusion, still under development, holds the promise of even safer, high-density energy if it becomes commercially viable.
New Mexico is uniquely positioned to help lead this next chapter. We are home to national laboratories, engineering talent and a skilled technical workforce. We sit at the center of the Southwest, where demand for reliable electricity continues to grow. Done right, nuclear can mean high-quality jobs, stable tax bases for rural communities and an energy system resilient to supply disruptions and price shocks.
The real question is not whether nuclear has a role.
The real question is under what conditions — and on whose terms.
Never like that again.
If nuclear is to be part of New Mexico’s carbon-free future, the safeguards must be clear, enforceable and non-negotiable.
First, cleanup must come before expansion — and care must accompany cleanup. Remediation of abandoned uranium mines must be fully funded and accelerated, especially on and near tribal lands. At the same time, the expanded RECA program must be implemented aggressively so uranium workers, Downwinders, and their families actually receive the compensation Congress has now recognized they deserve.
Second, Indigenous consent must be real. Any new uranium or nuclear fuel-cycle activity affecting tribal lands, water or cultural resources must require free, prior, and informed consent. Transparency must come first — not consultation after decisions are made. If a tribe says no, the answer must be no.
Third, health and environmental protections must be built in from the start. Continuous public monitoring of air, water and soil; strong worker protections; independent health surveillance; and fully funded decommissioning accounts must be standard—not optional.
Fourth, the economic benefits must last. Nuclear projects should include revenue-sharing, infrastructure investment, workforce training and support for tribal colleges and universities — creating durable opportunity rather than another boom-and-bust cycle.
Finally, tribal nations must help shape policy, not just permits. Tribal leaders deserve a seat at the table when state nuclear policy is written — not merely a microphone after decisions are made.
Learning, not retreating
Rejecting nuclear outright ignores both science and reality. Forcing it forward without consent repeats the mistakes of the past.
We owe it to uranium workers, Downwinders, and impacted communities to do right by them —through cleanup, compensation and care. And we owe future generations an energy system that is reliable, carbon-free, and economically strong.
Wind and solar alone cannot do that job. Nuclear — done right — can.
New Mexico has already shown the world how not to manage uranium. We now have the opportunity — and the responsibility — to show how to do nuclear the right way: transparent, just and rooted in respect for the people and lands that make this state unique.
That is not forgetting our past.
It is finally learning from it.