While global discourse often centers on Russia’s nuclear weapons capabilities, the deterioration of its domestic nuclear infrastructure has received far less attention. Many of Russia’s operational reactors exceed 50 years in age, and the country continues to construct new nuclear facilities abroad, from Turkiye to Bangladesh, positioning nuclear energy as a sustainable alternative to fossil fuels. Yet a critical question remains largely unaddressed: who will bear the cost when these aging facilities reach the end of their operational lifespans?
The decommissioning of the Ignalina Nuclear Power Plant in Lithuania offers a cautionary precedent. Built during the Soviet era, the plant was required to close its two reactors upon Lithuania’s EU accession, with operations ceasing in 2004 and 2009. The decommissioning process has proven to be both expensive and protracted. By 2020, estimated costs had risen to 3.3 billion euros, with only 49 percent of planned work completed. Originally scheduled for completion in 2038, the project is now expected to extend until 2049.
Domestically, Russia appears to be understating the scale of its own decommissioning obligations. Rosenergoatom, the state-owned operator, plans to decommission 35 reactors. However, internal estimates indicate a funding shortfall of approximately 18.7 billion euros against a total projected cost of 21 billion euros. These figures are likely conservative; historical precedents suggest actual costs frequently exceed initial projections. For instance, the decommissioning of the Lubmin nuclear power plant in Germany was initially estimated at 1 billion euros but has since risen to 10 billion euros.
In the meantime, Russia is delaying the most costly phases of decommissioning by placing reactors into long-term “safe” storage. This strategy defers financial and technical burdens to the future without resolving the underlying problem. Environmental NGO Bellona Foundation notes that based on Rosatom’s own projections, decommissioning and remediation obligations could surpass the company’s net profit by around 2037. The longer these efforts are postponed, the greater the accumulation of financial, technical, and safety risks.
Radioactive waste management presents another significant challenge. Russia inherits approximately 774,000 cubic meters of radioactive waste from the Soviet period. The upcoming decommissioning of 36 reactor units at eight nuclear power plants is expected to generate an additional 800,000 cubic meters of waste. The country has a documented history of leaving environmental liabilities unresolved when industries fail. In Russia’s Kemerovo region, home to nearly half of the nation’s coal production, mountains of mining waste scar the landscape and occasionally burn, polluting nearby communities. When coal companies go bankrupt, the state and local populations often absorb the cleanup costs.
Nuclear waste, however, cannot be simply abandoned if funding dries up. As Russia’s economic situation deteriorates due to the costs of sustaining its war economy, environmental regulations have been significantly weakened. National defense now constitutes the largest single item in the federal budget, while environmental protection receives a minimal share. This pattern of negligence is evident in other sectors, such as the transportation of oil via Russia’s aging “shadow fleet.” In 2024, two elderly Russian tankers spilled thousands of tonnes of fuel oil into the Black Sea, described as the region’s worst environmental disaster in decades.
The potential political consequences of nuclear mismanagement are also substantial. The Chornobyl disaster illustrated how suppressing information about the scale of an accident can fuel public distrust and contribute to social and political unrest. Experts warn that continued neglect of nuclear waste and repeated delays in decommissioning could create conditions for another environmental catastrophe and subsequent civil unrest, particularly if authorities respond with silence or concealment.
These risks are compounded by the silencing of independent environmental oversight within Russia. Organizations such as Bellona and Greenpeace have been declared “undesirable,” while EcoDefence, which campaigns on nuclear and environmental issues, has been labeled a “foreign agent” and faces criminal prosecution against its members. According to Vladimir Slivyak, co-chair of EcoDefence in exile, continued European reliance on Russian nuclear technology creates vulnerabilities that Moscow could exploit for sabotage or political pressure.
The lack of transparency raises fears of a repeat of the 1957 Mayak disaster, where Soviet authorities concealed the extent of a radioactive accident for over three decades, only acknowledging it in 1989. During that time, thousands suffered long-term health consequences from contamination. With independent monitoring capacity shrinking, there is a dangerous information gap: a nuclear accident could occur, its severity could be downplayed, and the public might only learn the full extent of the disaster years later.
As Russia promotes its nuclear industry at international forums such as COP conferences, experts argue that these issues must be raised alongside energy diplomacy. The combination of aging infrastructure, weak environmental oversight, and a reliance on secrecy creates risks that extend well beyond Russia’s borders, making it a concern for the entire international community.
This reads like Chornobyl part two. Neglecting infrastructure until it’s too late only guarantees chaos down the line.
Safe storage just delays the inevitable. When funding dries up, does Russia just abandon the waste like they do with coal?
I found it surprising how many Russian reactors are already over 50 years old. The debt trap looks real and imminent.
Why is no one asking who pays for Russia’s own reactors? With the war economy, funds are clearly going elsewhere.
Lithuania’s Ignalina plant is a perfect warning. Costs spiraled from billions to over three, and it’s still not done.