The Bataan Nuclear Power Plant in Morong, Bataan remains preserved but non-operational nearly four decades after its completion. Under the country’s new nuclear safety law, the facility cannot be rehabilitated or operated without approval from the independent regulator PhilATOM (Photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)
The future of the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant now depends on PhilATOM, the Philippines’ new independent nuclear regulator, which must decide whether the decades-old facility can meet modern safety standards and be considered for rehabilitation.
MANILA — For nearly four decades, the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant has stood silent on the Bataan coastline, preserved but never used. As the Philippines confronts high electricity costs and recurring supply constraints, the question resurfacing is whether the mothballed facility could ever operate.
A new nuclear safety law enacted this year places that decision firmly in the hands of a single institution, one designed to remove politics from a process long shaped by it.
A new regulator takes control of nuclear decisions
In September, President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. signed the Philippine National Nuclear Energy Safety Act, creating the Philippine Atomic Energy Regulatory Authority (PhilATOM) as the country’s stand-alone nuclear watchdog. The law grants PhilATOM exclusive authority over nuclear licensing, safety oversight, and regulation of all radioactive materials.
PhilATOM now serves as the national counterpart to the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA). No nuclear facility, including BNPP, may be sited, rehabilitated, fueled, or operated without its approval. The reform aligns the Philippines with global standards that require regulatory independence before a nation can pursue nuclear power.
A controversial project from the start
BNPP was conceived in the 1970s after the global oil crisis pushed the Philippines to seek energy security through nuclear power. Construction began in 1976 under a contract with Westinghouse Electric Corporation. Originally projected to cost roughly half a billion dollars, the project’s price eventually rose to more than $2 billion, making it one of the most expensive energy infrastructure projects in Southeast Asia at the time.
The plant, a 621-megawatt Westinghouse pressurized water reactor, was completed in 1984 but never fueled. Following the 1986 Chernobyl disaster and persistent safety and procurement controversies, the new Aquino administration ordered BNPP closed before it could operate. The Philippines continued paying for the plant until 2007.
The National Power Corporation has kept the facility preserved since then, but international assessments emphasize that preservation does not equal readiness. An IAEA advisory mission recommended updated seismic studies, modernization of aging systems, and full technical evaluations if the government intended to reassess BNPP’s viability.
Policy interest grows, but scrutiny is stricter
In 2022, then-President Rodrigo Duterte issued Executive Order 164, directing agencies to consider nuclear power in long-term planning, including the “use and viability” of BNPP.
In 2024, the Department of Energy commissioned a feasibility study from Korea Hydro & Nuclear Power (KHNP) to examine the plant’s structure, required upgrades, and economic feasibility. The review is ongoing.
But under the 2025 safety law, only PhilATOM, not the DOE, can authorize any next step.
A long road ahead
Supporters argue that nuclear power could provide stable baseload supply and reduce dependence on imported fuel. Critics cite safety concerns, seismic risks, and the cost of bringing a 40-year-old facility up to modern standards.
For now, BNPP remains non-operational and unlicensed. What has changed is the framework: the Philippines now has a national policy supporting nuclear exploration, a legally independent safety regulator, and a feasibility study underway to determine whether revival is technically and economically defensible.
Until PhilATOM completes its evaluations and issues the required licences, BNPP will remain a preserved monument to past ambition and a test of how the country intends to shape its energy future.
