As Germany dusts off mothballed coal plants to bridge its winter energy gap, the United Kingdom is positioning itself as a cleaner counterpoint with ambitious nuclear expansion plans. The divergence underscores a fundamental tension in Europe's energy transition: how to maintain grid stability while decarbonising.
Germany's decision to extend the life of coal-fired power stations is a stark admission that its renewable-heavy strategy has left it vulnerable. The country shuttered its last nuclear reactors in April 2023, doubling down on wind and solar. But when Russian gas supplies dried up and French nuclear output faltered, baseload power evaporated. Coal is the stopgap. According to the Fraunhofer Institute, coal generation rose 14% in the first half of 2023 compared to the same period last year. This is a setback for climate goals; Germany's 2030 target of an 80% renewable grid now looks aspirational.
Across the North Sea, the UK is taking a different track. The government has approved Sizewell C, a new EPR reactor, and is funding small modular reactor designs. Nuclear provides consistent, low-carbon power: a 1 GW reactor runs at over 90% capacity factor, compared to 30% for offshore wind. The UK's nuclear fleet currently supplies about 15% of its electricity, but with most plants retiring by 2030, new build is critical. The Department for Energy Security and Net Zero projects that nuclear could supply 25% of UK demand by 2050.
Critics argue nuclear is expensive and slow. Hinkley Point C, under construction in Somerset, is billions over budget and years behind schedule. But levelised cost analyses from the International Energy Agency show that nuclear is competitive with gas and coal when carbon prices exceed $75 per tonne. The UK Emissions Trading Scheme currently prices carbon at around $100 per tonne, making new nuclear economically viable compared to fossil fuels.
Germany's coal revival is a short-term fix with long-term consequences. Each month of coal operation adds millions of tonnes of CO2 to the atmosphere. For every 1 TWh generated by coal instead of nuclear, an extra 0.8 million tonnes of CO2 is emitted. Germany's coal plants are also significant sources of sulphur dioxide and nitrogen oxides, which cause acid rain and respiratory illness.
Technologically, the UK has an edge. Its geological stability favours nuclear siting, and it has a skilled workforce from decades of reactor operation. Germany, meanwhile, has decommissioned its nuclear expertise. Industrial memory fades; once a skills base is dismantled, rebuilding takes decades.
The two nations' choices illustrate the physics of energy density. Coal and uranium store vast energy in small volumes: one kilogram of uranium contains as much energy as 2.7 million kilograms of coal. Renewables are diffuse, requiring huge land areas and backup storage. Germany has deployed 70 GW of wind and solar, but without adequate storage, it relies on fossil fuels for calm, dark nights. The UK's nuclear fleet provides steady baseload, reducing the need for gas peaker plants.
Both countries face steep costs. Germany's Energiewende has cost households nearly $600 billion in surcharges since 2000. UK consumers pay high electricity bills partly due to nuclear decommissioning liabilities. But the externalised costs of climate change dwarf these sums. The European Academies' Science Advisory Council estimates that unmitigated warming could cost Europe 1-3% of GDP annually by 2050.
As Germany fires up coal plants, it is sending a message: renewables alone cannot guarantee energy security. The UK's nuclear programme offers a cleaner alternative, but it requires political will and long-term investment. For the planet, every tonne of CO2 matters. The choice between coal and nuclear is not merely economic; it is a decision about which future humanity wants to inhabit.
