Latest news with #Hanford
Yahoo
24-05-2025
- General
- Yahoo
The US buried millions of gallons of wartime nuclear waste – Doge cuts could wreck the cleanup
In the bustling rural city of Richland, in south-eastern Washington, the signs of a nuclear past are all around. A small museum explains its role in the Manhattan Project and its 'singular mission – [to] develop the world's first atomic bomb before the enemy might do the same'. The city's high school sports team is still known as the Bombers, with a logo that consists of the letter R set with a mushroom cloud. Richland lies just 30 miles from the Hanford nuclear site, a sprawling plant that produced the plutonium for America's atomic weapons during the second world war – including the bomb dropped over Nagasaki. Over the decades, thousands of people in the Tri-Cities area of southern Washington worked at the plant, which shuttered in 1989. But a dark legacy of Hanford still lingers here: vast amounts of highly radioactive waste nobody is quite sure what to do with. Residents have long spearheaded an operation to deal with 56m gallons of nuclear waste left behind in dozens of underground tanks – a cleanup that is expected to cost half a trillion dollars and may not be completed until 2100. The government has called it 'one of the largest and most expensive environmental cleanup projects worldwide'. In recent weeks, what has already been a costly and painstakingly slow process has come under renewed scrutiny, following an exodus of experts from the Department of Energy (DoE) that is overseeing the cleanup being executed by thousands of contract workers. Related: Nuclear waste ravaged their land. The Yakama Nation is on a quest to rescue it According to local media, several dozen staff, who reportedly include managers, scientists and safety experts, have taken early retirement or been fired as part of a broader government reduction overseen by Elon Musk and his 'department of government efficiency'. The government has refused to provide a specific figure for how many people involved with cleanup efforts have left. The top DoE manager at the Hanford site, Brian Vance, who had many years of experience, resigned at the end of March without giving a reason. The changes have thrown the communities around the Hanford plant into limbo. And while the Department of Energy has said that only six staff have been fired, and reiterated its commitment to the cleanup, that hasn't managed to assuage locals' concerns. Those raising the alarm include politicians from both parties, environmental activists, and Indigenous communities who have historically owned the land on which the 560 sq mile (1,450 sq km) site sits. The US senator for Washington Patty Murray said workers were already understaffed, and that cutting further positions was 'reckless'. 'There is nothing 'efficient' about indiscriminately firing thousands upon thousands of workers in red and blue states whose work is badly needed,' the Democrat said. Dan Newhouse, the local Republican congressman is similarly concerned. 'A strong, well trained federal workforce is essential,' he wrote in a weekly newsletter to constituents. Concerns have also been raised by some over the difficulty former workers face in making medical compensation claims to the government for everything from cancer to acute pulmonary disease linked to their time at the plant. Taken together, there is fresh anxiety in a community, where many are still living with the health and environmental effects of Hanford. ••• Richland, part of the Tri-Cities, was obtained by the army in 1943 to house workers engaged in top-secret efforts to produce plutonium used in the world's first nuclear explosion – the-so-called 'Trinity' device tested some 200 miles from Los Alamos, New Mexico, in 1945. Though the city was returned to the public a decade later, it can still feel like a company town. To get anywhere near what is known as Hanford's B-reactor, the world's first full-scale plutonium production reactor, you need to sign up for an official tour. Yet a view of its grey, single tower, looming from the hillside, can be seen from state route 24, close to the Columbia River. Those expressing concern about the federal government downsizing include local Indigenous groups who historically owned the land where the site is located and were pushed off it by the government. The Hanford plant area contains the location of several sacred sites, among them Gable Mountain, which were used for ceremonies, and the area of Rattlesnake Mountain, or Lalíik, which has for centuries been used to hunt elk. The site is also located close to the Yakama Indian Reservation, home to 11,000 people, and the tribe has long pushed to be central to decisions about the cleanup and what it is eventually used for. The tribe recently signed a deal to carry out their first elk hunt in the area for seven decades. 'One of the biggest fears is that without proper manpower, there might not be a very good crew for the cleanup of the property,' says Gerald Lewis, chairman of the Confederated Tribes and Bands of the Yakama Nation. 'Without this cleanup, that's been happening for a number of years, we're afraid of a nuclear mishap.' Dr Elizabeth McClure, a health data specialist with the Union of Concerned Scientists, is currently conducting research in the communities around Hanford. She says there is a history of government-led cover-ups over the years at the site, including what is known as 'the Green Run', the intentional release of 8,000 so-called curies of iodine-131 into the atmosphere in 1949. By comparison, the leak of radioactive material at the Three Mile Island accident in 1979 involved just a dozen. The Green Run was only acknowledged by the government in 1986. It later emerged that so-called 'downwinders', suffered higher rates of cancer and harm to their lymphatic system. She says Indigenous communities, and other marginalised groups, are often not included in research into the broader impact of places such as Hanford. 'In public health, we're doing work to improve the wellbeing of the public,' she says. 'If you aren't getting the insights and feedback of who's being harmed, you're not going to be able to make improvements.' Also monitoring developments is Hanford Challenge, an environmental group that has highlighted – among other issues – the estimated million gallons of radioactive waste already leaked into the soil because several dozen storage tanks are cracked. A plan to send 2,000 gallons of waste for treatment in Utah or Texas was put on hold after protests from communities on the route, including the city of Spokane and the Umatilla Indian Reservation. Nikolas Peterson, a spokesperson for Hanford Challenge, is concerned about job losses and how it will impact a cleanup operation that is taking place far away from the public eye. 'This level of reduction in staffing raises serious concerns about oversight, accountability and continuity. While the contractor workforce performs the bulk of the cleanup work, DoE staff play a critical role in setting priorities, ensuring compliance and maintaining transparency with the public,' he said. 'A diminished federal presence could slow decision-making, weaken oversight and reduce opportunities for meaningful engagement with stakeholders.' ••• For former plant workers like Larry White, the legacy of Hanford is complex. White says he loved the camaraderie of the job, sucked up the hour-long commute, and didn't grumble when he was required to put on protective gear that made the temperature soar. But the job left him with lingering scars. White developed skin cancer and a progressive lung disease that has made it painful to breathe. Even now, as the 83-year-old makes out medical compensation claims, he is not one to complain, even though it hurts to breathe. 'I was treated good while I was there. They took care of us,' says White, who owns and helps farm seven acres in Yakima, a town some 45 miles from Hanford. Since 2000, the government has paid out at least $2.2bn to former Hanford employees, representing 13,000 people. White is being helped by his son, Doug White, a consultant, community activist and part-time farmer who ran unsuccessfully as a Democrat for Newhouse's seat in 2022. His son admits he is struggling with the paperwork required to process the claim and is struggling to get help. He says it is essential officials are transparent. 'I'm finding it extremely complicated, unintelligible and opaque,' says White. 'It's a struggle. It's an absolute struggle.' Another former staff member, Richard Badalamente, spent 22 years working as a behavioral scientist at the DoE's National Laboratory, originally part of the Hanford site. Today he's a campaigner for environmental and other causes. Badalamente, 88, says the concerns triggered by news about a reduction in staff symbolise the peculiar relationship between the Hanford community and its history. 'The concern is twofold,' he says. He says the economic 'fuel' for the region comes from the massive operation that may not be completed for 75 years. He adds: 'The concern is the Trump administration will not support a robust cleanup.' It appears many of the recent departures have come as part through voluntary redundancy, or delayed resignation program (DRP), that have been used in other government departments to trim numbers. The DoE said by email it would not provide a number for how many employees had opted for early retirement. It said all requests 'were subject to approval, and certain public safety, national security, law enforcement, or other essential employees may not be approved for participation'. It also would not say how staff had been selected. It confirmed Vance's deputy, Brian Stickney, was among those who had taken early retirement. Vance did not respond to inquiries from the Guardian. Asked about the impact on the cleanup, the spokesperson said: 'The DoE is committed to meeting cleanup responsibilities at Hanford safely and effectively while delivering on President Trump's mission to increase innovation across the federal government and promote greater efficiency and accountability.' In a note to staff, he said: 'Hanford's cleanup mission is one of the most complex and challenging in the world, and the progress we have made is nothing short of remarkable.' How swiftly that progress now goes remains to be seen. Back at the visitors' museum in Richland, near the black-and-white photos of Ronald Reagans's 1956 morale-boosting visit to Hanford, a 15-minute informational film highlights in plain, unemotional language the scale of the 'unintended consequences and legacies of the Manhattan Project'. Solving these complex environmental problems, the film says, will rely on the same 'drive, dedication, human ingenuity and political will' put into building the bomb. • This article was amended on 20 May 2025. It was iodine-131, not 'iodine-1', that was released into the atmosphere in 1949.
The Guardian
15-05-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
The US buried millions of gallons of wartime nuclear waste – Doge cuts could wreck the cleanup
In the bustling rural city of Richland, in south-eastern Washington, the signs of a nuclear past are all around. A small museum explains its role in the Manhattan Project and its 'singular mission – [to] develop the world's first atomic bomb before the enemy might do the same'. The city's high school sports team is still known as the Bombers, with a logo that consists of the letter R set with a mushroom cloud. Richland lies just 30 miles from the Hanford nuclear site, a sprawling plant that produced the plutonium for America's atomic weapons during the second world war – and later the bomb dropped over Nagasaki. Over the decades, thousands of people in the Tri-Cities area of southern Washington worked at the plant, which shuttered in 1989. But a dark legacy of Hanford still lingers here: vast amounts of highly radioactive waste nobody is quite sure what to do with. Residents have long spearheaded an operation to deal with 56m gallons of nuclear waste left behind in dozens of underground tanks – a cleanup that is expected to cost half a trillion dollars and may not be completed until 2100. The government has called it 'one of the largest and most expensive environmental cleanup projects worldwide'. In recent weeks, what has already been a costly and painstakingly slow process has come under renewed scrutiny, following an exodus of experts from the Department of Energy (DoE) that is overseeing the cleanup being executed by thousands of contract workers. According to local media, several dozen staff, who reportedly include managers, scientists and safety experts, have taken early retirement or been fired as part of a broader government reduction overseen by Elon Musk and his 'department of government efficiency'. The government has refused to provide a specific figure for how many people involved with cleanup efforts have left. The top DoE manager at the Hanford site, Brian Vance, who had many years of experience, resigned at the end of March without giving a reason. The changes have thrown the communities around the Hanford plant into limbo. And while the Department of Energy has said that only six staff have been fired, and reiterated its commitment to the cleanup, that hasn't managed to assuage locals' concerns. Those raising the alarm include politicians from both parties, environmental activists, and Indigenous communities who have historically owned the land on which the 560 sq mile (1,450 sq km) site sits. The US senator for Washington Patty Murray said workers were already understaffed, and that cutting further positions was 'reckless'. 'There is nothing 'efficient' about indiscriminately firing thousands upon thousands of workers in red and blue states whose work is badly needed,' the Democrat said. Dan Newhouse, the local Republican congressman is similarly concerned. 'A strong, well trained federal workforce is essential,' he wrote in a weekly newsletter to constituents. Concerns have also been raised by some over the difficulty former workers face in making medical compensation claims to the government for everything from cancer to acute pulmonary disease linked to their time at the plant. Taken together, there is fresh anxiety in a community, where many are still living with the health and environmental effects of Hanford. Richland, part of the Tri-Cities, was obtained by the army in 1943 to house workers engaged in top-secret efforts to produce plutonium used in the world's first nuclear explosion – the-so-called 'Trinity' device tested near Los Alamos, New Mexico, in 1945. Though the city was returned to the public a decade later, it can still feel like a company town. To get anywhere near what is known as Hanford's B-reactor, the world's first full-scale plutonium production reactor, you need to sign up for an official tour. Yet a view of its grey, single tower, looming from the hillside, can be seen from state route 24, close to the Columbia River. Those expressing concern about the federal government downsizing include local Indigenous groups who historically owned the land where the site is located and were pushed off it by the government. The Hanford plant area contains the location of several sacred sites, among them Gable Mountain, which were used for ceremonies, and the area of Rattlesnake Mountain, or Lalíik, which has for centuries been used to hunt elk. The site is also located close to the Yakama Indian Reservation, home to 11,000 people, and the tribe has long pushed to be central to decisions about the cleanup and what it is eventually used for. The tribe recently signed a deal to carry out their first elk hunt in the area for seven decades. 'One of the biggest fears is that without proper manpower, there might not be a very good crew for the cleanup of the property,' says Gerald Lewis, chairman of the Confederated Tribes and Bands of the Yakama Nation. 'Without this cleanup, that's been happening for a number of years, we're afraid of a nuclear mishap.' Dr Elizabeth McClure, a health data specialist with the Union of Concerned Scientists, is currently conducting research in the communities around Hanford. She says there is a history of government-led cover-ups over the years at the site, including what is known as 'the Green Run', the intentional release of 8,000 so-called curies of iodine-1 into the atmosphere in 1949. By comparison, the leak of radioactive material at the Three Mile Island accident in 1979 involved just a dozen. The Green Run was only acknowledged by the government in 1986. It later emerged that so-called 'downwinders', suffered higher rates of cancer and harm to their lymphatic system. She says Indigenous communities, and other marginalised groups, are often not included in research into the broader impact of places such as Hanford. 'In public health, we're doing work to improve the wellbeing of the public,' she says. 'If you aren't getting the insights and feedback of who's being harmed, you're not going to be able to make improvements.' Also monitoring developments is Hanford Challenge, an environmental group that has highlighted – among other issues – the estimated million gallons of radioactive waste already leaked into the soil because several dozen storage tanks are cracked. A plan to send 2,000 gallons of waste for treatment in Utah or Texas was put on hold after protests from communities on the route, including the city of Spokane and the Umatilla Indian Reservation. Nikolas Peterson, a spokesperson for Hanford Challenge, is concerned about job losses and how it will impact a cleanup operation that is taking place far away from the public eye. 'This level of reduction in staffing raises serious concerns about oversight, accountability and continuity. While the contractor workforce performs the bulk of the cleanup work, DoE staff play a critical role in setting priorities, ensuring compliance and maintaining transparency with the public,' he said. Sign up to Down to Earth The planet's most important stories. Get all the week's environment news - the good, the bad and the essential after newsletter promotion 'A diminished federal presence could slow decision-making, weaken oversight and reduce opportunities for meaningful engagement with stakeholders.' For former plant workers like Larry White, the legacy of Hanford is complex. White says he loved the camaraderie of the job, sucked up the hour-long commute, and didn't grumble when he was required to put on protective gear that made the temperature soar. But the job left him with lingering scars. White developed skin cancer and a progressive lung disease that has made it painful to breathe. Even now, as the 83-year-old makes out medical compensation claims, he is not one to complain, even though it hurts to breathe. 'I was treated good while I was there. They took care of us,' says White, who owns and helps farm seven acres in Yakima, a town some 45 miles from Hanford. Since 2000, the government has paid out at least $2.2bn to former Hanford employees, representing 13,000 people. White is being helped by his son, Doug White, a consultant, community activist and part-time farmer who ran unsuccessfully as a Democrat for Newhouse's seat in 2022. His son admits he is struggling with the paperwork required to process the claim and is struggling to get help. He says it is essential officials are transparent. 'I'm finding it extremely complicated, unintelligible and opaque,' says White. 'It's a struggle. It's an absolute struggle.' Another former staff member, Richard Badalamente, spent 22 years working as a behavioral scientist at the DoE's National Laboratory, originally part of the Hanford site. Today he's a campaigner for environmental and other causes. Badalamente, 88, says the concerns triggered by news about a reduction in staff symbolise the peculiar relationship between the Hanford community and its history. 'The concern is twofold,' he says. He says the economic 'fuel' for the region comes from the massive operation that may not be completed for 75 years. He adds: 'The concern is the Trump administration will not support a robust cleanup.' It appears many of the recent departures have come as part through voluntary redundancy, or delayed resignation program (DRP), that have been used in other government departments to trim numbers. The DoE said by email it would not provide a number for how many employees had opted for early retirement. It said all requests 'were subject to approval, and certain public safety, national security, law enforcement, or other essential employees may not be approved for participation'. It also would not say how staff had been selected. It confirmed Vance's deputy, Brian Stickney, was among those who had taken early retirement. Vance did not respond to inquiries from the Guardian. Asked about the impact on the cleanup, the spokesperson said: 'The DoE is committed to meeting cleanup responsibilities at Hanford safely and effectively while delivering on President Trump's mission to increase innovation across the federal government and promote greater efficiency and accountability.' In a note to staff, he said: 'Hanford's cleanup mission is one of the most complex and challenging in the world, and the progress we have made is nothing short of remarkable.' How swiftly that progress now goes remains to be seen. Back at the visitors' museum in Richland, near the black-and-white photos of Ronald Reagans's 1956 morale-boosting visit to Hanford, a 15-minute informational film highlights in plain, unemotional language the scale of the 'unintended consequences and legacies of the Manhattan Project'. Solving these complex environmental problems, the film says, will rely on the same 'drive, dedication, human ingenuity and political will' put into building the bomb.
Wales Online
07-05-2025
- Wales Online
23-year-old graduate sold vile pictures of children and babies being raped for '£30 for over 100'
23-year-old graduate sold vile pictures of children and babies being raped for '£30 for over 100' A judge described the trade in indecent images as 'vile' and told the defendant: 'These were real babies somewhere in the world being tortured' Dean Hanford (Image: South Wales Police ) A paedophile sold horrific images of children and babies being sexually abused and raped to like-minded people, a court has heard. It is not know how much Dean Hanford made from what a judge called the "vile" trade but police were able to get hold of data from online payment system PayPal which showed amounts being credited to him. Hanford's barrister told Swansea Crown Court that the defendant admitted to being sexually attracted to children, a candid admission which was rare in such cases. Sending the 23-year-old graduate to prison a judge told him "These were real babies somewhere in the world being tortured so people like you can masturbate over the images." The court heard Hanford's activities came to light as part of an investigation by the National Crime Agency which then alerted South Wales Police. In the summer of 2023 police executed a search warrant at the defendant's house and seized devices which were found to contain significant numbers of indecent images and videos. The court heard there was also evidence Hanford had been sharing the material with others with the defendant boasting in messages that he had "tons" of images which we was selling for "£30 for over 100". Article continues below Officers also found screenshots which appeared to be confirmation messages from people unknown of moneys sent. Prosecutor Emily Bennett said police also put in data access requests to online payment system PayPal which revealed credits paid to the defendant between June, 2022, and June, 2023, many of which were marked with the reference "videos". Dean William Hanford, of Caroline Street, Blaengwynfi, Afan Valley, had previously pleaded guilty to possession and distribution of Category A images, possession and distribution of Category B images, and possession and distribution of Category C images when he appeared in the dock for sentencing. Read about a father caught with a so-called "paedophile manual" which contained a detailed step-by-step guide on how to find, groom, and have sex with children from the age of two James Hartson, for Hanford, said the defendant had led a "sheltered life" and experienced "loneliness and isolation" which were factors in what had been described as his "addiction". He said Hanford was educated to degree level and worked "for a leading Welsh utility company" and said in a detailed pre-sentence report the defendant recognised he was sexually attracted to children, a candid admission which the courts rarely hear in such cases. The barrister said Hanford accepted the selling of the images was "partly financially motivated" and was done to support his mother who was unable to work. Judge Paul Thomas KC said Hanford had been caught with "a huge number" of indecent images including Category A images showing children and babies - including newborn babies - being sexually abused and raped. He said the defendant was not just viewing the images but was perpetuating and fuelling the "vile" market for such material by selling the images to others. For the latest court reports sign up to our crime newsletter here. The judge said he had read the detailed pre-sentence report on the defendant, and had read a reference from the defendant's mother which spoke of her pride in her son's personal characteristics. He said either the mother was unaware of the nature of the offending or the reference "perhaps gives a clue as to why you turned out the way you did". With one-third discounts for his guilty pleas and in accordance with the sentencing guidelines Hanford was sentenced to 28 months in prison. He will serve up to half that sentence in custody before being released on licence to serve the remainder in the community. Article continues below The defendant will be a registered sex offender for the next 10 years, and was made the subject of a sexual harm prevention order for the same length of time.
Yahoo
22-03-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
DOGE to close Hanford, PNNL worker office and 5 other federal leases in Eastern WA
The Trump administration plans to end the lease of the Richland office used to help ill Hanford workers and their survivors sort out their options for compensation and care. The Hanford Workforce Engagement Center at 309 Bradley Blvd. opened in 2018 with union and nonunion representative to help people who might be eligible for federal compensation understand what help is available from different programs and how to navigate the claims process. The programs are complex and with services that overlap benefits. To date it is the only federal lease that the Department of Government Efficiency, or DOGE, led by billionaire Elon Musk has targeted to end in the Tri-Cities area. However, the Trump administration has announced plans to end five other federal leases elsewhere in Eastern Washington, including offices for the Drug Enforcement Administration and offices that work to protect endangered salmon and steelhead, help farmers and manage forest service land. DOGE lists the closure of the office just off George Washington Way as saving $53,700 by canceling an annual lease that costs about $19,500. The U.S Department of Labor has paid out nearly $2.5 billion in compensation and to cover medical bills of Hanford nuclear site workers who developed diseases such as cancer after exposure or suspected exposure to radiation or chemicals on the job. In some cases, the compensation from the Energy Employees Occupational Illness Compensation Program was paid to their survivors. Workers at Pacific Northwest National Laboratory in Richland also are eligible for compensation and medical care under the program, which has paid $435 million to PNNL workers or their survivors. The payments have included almost $860 million in medical care to current and former ill Hanford workers and $155 million to ill PNNL workers. Locally, people may know it as the 'white card' program because of the color of the medical benefits card issued by the U.S. Department of Labor, which covers medical expenses for covered conditions including 24-hour in-home health care. Compensation can include a $150,000 payment for radiation-caused cancers or lung disease caused by the metal beryllium and $250,000 for wage loss, impairment and survivor benefits for exposure to toxic chemicals. Claims have been filed for compensation or care for 15,600 Hanford and PNNL workers. Hanford was used from World War II through the Cold War to produce nearly two-thirds of the plutonium for the nation's nuclear weapons program. What is now called PNNL was established in the 1940s for research to support Hanford and the Manhattan Project. Hanford and PNNL workers or their survivors also may be eligible for Washington state Department of Labor and Industries workers' compensation under a Washington state law that eased eligibility for claim approval. The Hanford Workforce Engagement Center at this point remains open in Richland and can be reached by calling 509-376-4932. Sen. Patty Murray, D-Wash., said she is demanding answers from the Trump administration on how it plans to ensure the continuity of service for people who rely on the Hanford center and services provided by other federal agencies in offices with leases it plans to end. DOGE posted online that planned leased terminations would reduce about 8 million square feet the federal government is paying for and save $350 million. 'Trump and Elon are rich enough that they've never had to rely on any of the services the federal government provides and they have no idea what it's like for people who do,' said Sen. Patty Murray, D-Wash., in a news release Friday. 'They're just trying to break government and enrich themselves, and they don't give a damn about the consequences for regular people,' she said. Rep. Dan Newhouse, R-Wash., who was in Pasco on Thursday said then that the federal government must cut its spending of nearly $3 trillion more than money it collects annually. Other federal leases in Eastern Washington that the Trump administration plans to end include: ▪ The Bureau of Indian Affairs Yakama Agency office in Toppenish. Members of the Yakama Nation can get in-person assistance to help ensure the federal government's responsibility to the Yakama Nation are fulfilled. ▪ The Drug Enforcement Administration office in Yakima. Six employees, including federal law enforcement officers, worked out of the office as of April 2024, according to information from Murray's staff. ▪ Natural Resources Conservation Service's Dayton Service Center. The office provides in-person help with federal programs to farmers, producers and forest landowners. The agency works to reduce erosion and flood damage and to improve water quality, restore watersheds and manage agricultural waste. ▪ The Forest Service Ranger Station in Pomeroy. It is the Pomeroy Ranger District station for the Umatilla National Forest, which stretches over 1.4 million acres in the heart of the Blue Mountains of Southeast Washington and Northeast Oregon. ▪ The U.S. Geological Survey's Washington Water Science Center field office in Spokane Valley. The center works to protect endangered salmon and steelhead, ensure dam operators have the information needed to operate safely, and protect farmers and their crops, according to Murray's staff. In addition to ending leases, the Trump administration also listed online several federally owned buildings in the state that it plans to get rid of, before deleting the list, according to Murray's staff. They include the Henry M. Jackson Building in Seattle, the largest federal building in the Northwest, housing help centers for the Social Security Administration, Veterans Affairs and the Internal Revenue Service, plus other services. Other Seattle federal buildings also were on the list, along with the Vancouver Federal Building and the Bonneville Power Administration Headquarters in Portland, Ore.
Yahoo
20-03-2025
- General
- Yahoo
Opinion: ‘Sold a Story': 6 Takeaways from Deep Dive into Literacy in Steubenville, Ohio
A version of this essay originally appeared on Robert Pondiscio's Substack. I've made no secret of my admiration for Emily Hanford, who has done more to build demand for scientifically sound reading instruction than nearly anyone in the last decade — not just in journalism but in education at large. Her original 'Sold a Story' series was a seismic shift, grabbing public attention and spurring state legislation mandating curriculum and instruction rooted in the science of reading. Now, she's back with three fresh installments, as potent as ever. These tell the story of Steubenville, Ohio — a gritty steel town-turned-reading powerhouse thanks to a 25-year commitment to Success for All, a research-backed, whole-school reform model Nancy Madden and Bob Slavin began developing as reading researchers at Johns Hopkins in the 1970s. Like all of Hanford's work, the new episodes are deeply reported, well-informed, engaging and must-hear podcasts. I binge-listened to them twice on a long drive this week. Here are my takeaways: Get stories like this delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up for The 74 Newsletter Get stories like this delivered straight to your inbox. Sign up for The 74 Newsletter In education, especially for schools serving disadvantaged kids, curriculum changes as often as losing baseball teams swap managers — new year, new playbook, same old slump. Not so in Steubenville, where sticking with Success for All for 25 years has been a game-changer. In fact, they haven't changed the game in a quarter-century. Minimal churn — low teacher turnover, a decade-long superintendent and 48% of staff are local grads — breeds a stability other schools and districts can only envy. Hanford gets baffled looks when she asks Steubenville teachers if they'd ever heard of Lucy Calkins, Fountas and Pinnell or even balanced literacy. 'Steubenville had no need to pursue the latest trend, to even know what the latest trend was,' she reports, 'because what they were doing was working. It's been working. For 25 years.' Related SFA is a standout, backed by a mountain of research that Hanford highlights. It's not just a reading curriculum, it's a whole-school overhaul — curriculum and instruction, professional development, leadership training, etc. — that's lifted Steubenville's poorest kids to nationally recognized heights, pushing reading scores two grade levels above peers'. Hanford cites research that shows eighth graders staying ahead in reading, with fewer held back or in special ed, cutting costs over time. Interestingly, SFA also shaped Success Academy's early days, as I chronicled in my book How the Other Half Learns. A New York hedge fund manager, John Petry, wrote a charter school application after he and his partner Joel Greenblatt persuaded and paid for a Queens, New York, public school to implement SFA to great effect. They hired Eva Moskowitz to lead it. About the same time, Steubenville was looking for a new reading program. 'Most people familiar with the reading research seemed to agree at the time that there were probably only two reading programs that had been tested and proven with scientific research,' Hanford reports: Success for All and Direct Instruction. SFA and Direct Instruction both face a big — and, for some, insurmountable — hurdle: Both are scripted, and some teachers hate that. Teachers tend to valorize freedom over recipes, and that resistance keeps SFA and Direct Instruction niche, even with Steubenville's success and DI's decades of data. Could 'Sold a Story' change that misperception? We'll see. What has made Hanford's work so impactful is that she demonstrates how teachers have been misled about what is and is not effective practice; her work casts teachers not as sinners, but as sinned against by schools of education, publishing companies and instructional gurus. The same is true about instructional design and 'scripts.' In 'How to Be the Next Emily Hanford,' a piece I wrote for Education Next with my colleague Riley Fletcher last year, we encouraged education journalists to follow Hanford's lead and cast their gaze on classroom practice — teaching and learning — rather than the policy and politics that tend to dominate education reporting. If these new episodes bolster SFA and DI's reputations and discredit detractors, spotlighting evidence over perceptions of rigidity, it will be a big service. Related SFA isn't just a program — it's a pact, insisting that teachers vote to adopt it before it takes root. Steubenville conducted a secret ballot in which 100% of the staff agreed to adopt it — proof that the buy-in was real. That's no small thing. I've often rankled my fellow curriculum advocates by saying I'd rather my daughter's teacher be a Kool-Aid-swilling acolyte of a curriculum and pedagogy I dislike than have my preferred curriculum imposed on her and implemented begrudgingly. In How the Other Half Learns, I expected to write about curriculum and instruction at Success Academy but surprised myself by writing more about school culture: The X factor that makes those schools soar is every adult in a kid's life singing from the same hymnal. SFA gets that: Without teachers on board, even the best program flops. Steubenville's success hinges on that buy-in, a lesson too many reform efforts — and too many top-down technocratic reformers — miss or elide. Winning hearts and minds matters. EdReports looms large in Hanford's latest episodes, a flawed gatekeeper in the science of reading push. In her Steubenville saga, it's a shadow player — SFA's evidence shines and Steubenville was implementing it long before EdReports emerged on the scene. But not long ago Ohio's initial 'approved' list of reading curriculum snubbed SFA because EdReports hadn't reviewed it, while green-lighting programs with weaker bona fides. How is that possible? EdReports was created to aid and abet Common Core implementation, not as a science of reading arbiter, yet states like Ohio leaned on it to approve curricula. That led to picks that often flunked the evidence test. Hanford shows EdReports' clout — 40 publishers tweaked products for its ratings, and nearly 2,000 districts followed suit — but also its flaws: It gave high marks to programs employing discredited techniques like 'three-cueing,' while SFA, as a 'whole-school' model, was beyond its scope. That disconnect nearly cost Steubenville its proven program. I've long put EdReports in the category of 'things I choose to love.' If you believe, as I do, that high-quality instructional materials are critical to student success, EdReports helped pushed curriculum to the center of reform conversations. But Hanford's reporting echoes a worry I've harbored: Standards alignment isn't enough. Built for Common Core, EdReports encourages a view of reading that is neutral to agnostic on quality. A 'standards-based' view of reading means you can teach Dickens or dreck. EdReports' ratings don't tell me if a program's texts are worth the time. Related I've written favorably about state efforts to center curriculum in reform, like Louisiana's push to 'make the best choice the easy choice' by curating top-tier options. But Hanford shows critical pitfalls: Ohio banned three-cueing and built 'science of reading' lists — bravo! — yet nearly axed SFA because EdReports didn't review it. Steubenville dodged a bullet, but the misstep echoes Reading First's chaos: good intent, shaky execution. Lists can guide, but when they lean on flawed tools over hard evidence, they're more clutter than clarity. Steubenville proves schools can defy the odds with evidence, continuity and teacher buy-in — not just phonics. SFA and DI shine — I've been hyping DI this month and before — yet state lists and EdReports risk sidelining them for flashier flops. Education is cursed with too much innovation, not enough execution. These episodes scream it louder. Hanford's work remains a wake-up call, and these episodes raise the stakes: We've got the evidence, so why aren't we using it?
