Last summer at the Idaho National Laboratory, Department of Energy officials convened to map a new direction for U.S. nuclear power under the new administration. The session was led by Seth Cohen, a 31-year-old lawyer with little background in nuclear law who entered government through Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE). Records and interviews show Cohen repeatedly downplayed health and safety worries while the group discussed licensing advanced reactor designs, at times treating radiation risks with a levity that alarmed career staff.
That episode is part of a much broader and rapid reworking of how the federal government manages nuclear regulation. The administration has moved to speed approvals, rewrite safety requirements, and insert political operatives and Silicon Valley–connected investors into policymaking at the Nuclear Regulatory Commission and the Department of Energy. Hundreds of experienced employees have left or been pushed out, thousands of pages of regulations are being rewritten quickly, and venture-backed reactor startups are receiving unprecedented access to the policy process.
The NRC, long regarded internationally as a gold standard for independent nuclear oversight, has been a central target. In an early and controversial move, President Trump dismissed NRC Commissioner Christopher Hanson after Hanson publicly defended the agency’s independence — the first firing of an NRC commissioner. ProPublica’s review of staffing data and agency accounts and interviews with current and former employees found steep departures across the agency, especially among veteran reactor and materials safety experts, while hiring has lagged.
Administration and DOE officials defend the changes as necessary modernization: removing bureaucratic delays, updating requirements written for large light-water reactors, and accelerating construction of plants intended to support expanding AI data centers. Executive orders direct the NRC to reduce workforce burdens, speed licensing, and overhaul safety requirements; the DOE has been instructed to create pathways for advanced reactor companies to test designs. The stated goal is a dramatic expansion of U.S. nuclear capacity.
But critics warn the speed and political direction risk eroding the safety culture that has helped the United States avoid major nuclear incidents since 1979. Past disasters like Fukushima and Chernobyl are frequently cited as cautionary examples of what can happen when oversight weakens. ‘The regulator is no longer an independent regulator — we do not know whose interests it is serving,’ said Allison Macfarlane, former NRC chair. She and others say the loss of institutional memory and technical expertise from departing staff degrades the agency’s ability to spot and manage risks.
Silicon Valley money and influence are central to the shift. Billionaires and venture capitalists such as Peter Thiel and Marc Andreessen have invested in advanced nuclear startups and advised the administration. Andreessen helped recruit staff after the 2024 election; Thiel vetted candidates for senior DOE nuclear posts. Startups and investors sought direct access at Mar-a-Lago and were shown early drafts of executive orders and regulatory texts, according to documents and sources.
Several new reactor companies, many backed by tech investors, have obtained preferential access within DOE and early visibility into proposed regulatory changes. Valar Atomics, backed by Silicon Valley angels including Palmer Luckey and Palantir CTO Shyam Sankar, became emblematic of the tensions: Cohen reportedly distributed Valar hats at an NRC meeting, prompting ethics warnings and troubling career staff who see any appearance of coziness as corrosive to regulatory independence. Some firms argue that current radiation limits and safety requirements make certain designs uneconomic; internal DOE memos cite potential cost savings from reduced shielding as justification for altering dose rules.
Proposals under discussion include steep cuts in inspection hours for emergency preparedness, revisions to public exposure standards, and moves away from the longstanding ALARA principle (As Low As Reasonably Achievable), which has guided conservative radiation protection. DOE documents and presentations frame dose-limit adjustments as a ‘business case’ that could trim reactor costs by a few percentage points. Radiation health experts and many regulators warn that raising exposure limits or reducing oversight could put U.S. policy out of step with international standards and undermine public trust — a serious obstacle for startups that will need community acceptance to site and operate reactors.
Policy personnel shifts have been dramatic. Operatives aligned with DOGE and other political offices with limited nuclear experience have been placed in sensitive roles. NRC staff report being briefed and overseen by political lawyers and young operatives lacking domain expertise. The DOE’s nuclear office has lost a significant share of its workforce; the NRC’s top attorney resigned and was replaced by an oil-and-gas lawyer who had worked on DOGE cost-cutting initiatives. Rulemaking has been routed through an office overseen by former White House cost-savings czar Russell Vought, a move critics say further threatens the agency’s independence.
Long-tenured NRC officials who support nuclear expansion nonetheless felt compelled to speak out. Scott Morris, a career NRC operations official of more than three decades who favors deregulation in principle, called the political insertion into senior leadership ‘a dangerous proposition.’ Other staff compare the workplace to a lobster in slowly boiling water: fears of retaliation deter people from raising concerns, and some offices are so depleted they cannot effectively defend agency positions at adjudicatory hearings for the first time in decades.
The DOE has launched programs to allow experimental designs to go critical more quickly, creating concierge teams to shepherd companies through bureaucracy. Secretary of Energy Chris Wright, who had served on the board of an advanced reactor company before recusing himself upon confirmation, has publicly urged rapid permitting and construction. The department quietly revised some safety rules applicable to participating companies and reportedly shared those revisions with companies before making them public.
Internal documents show the DOE even used an AI assistant to help compile a lab report cited in materials advocating dose-limit changes, drawing criticism from radiation scientists who said the work misinterpreted the literature. In another controversial move, the department used a military plane to airlift a prototype reactor for Valar Atomics in what internal memos described as a public-relations and ‘critical’ national-security action.
Supporters of faster licensing argue that rules designed for large reactors do not fit small modular and other advanced designs, and that modern sensors, modeling, and controls should permit regulatory updates. They say streamlining licensing and site availability would bridge the implementation gap and enable a new fleet of modular reactors. Some pro-nuclear groups back faster timelines but caution that preserving NRC independence is essential for public confidence.
The changes have prompted lawsuits and internal fights. Three reactor companies sued the NRC seeking greater state-level oversight; lawyers expected the suit would be dismissed before the current political shift. New appointees pressed toward a settlement compromise that remains under negotiation while the career NRC lawyer handling the case left the agency.
Seth Cohen has been explicit about his mission to remove government barriers to industry. He has questioned creating industry trust funds for workplace accidents, downplayed preparation for rare ‘100-year’ events, and compared nuclear startup risk tolerance to the early failures of private rockets. His remarks reflect a Silicon Valley ‘move fast and break things’ ethos that many nuclear professionals say is incompatible with a safety culture built on caution and redundancy.
The administration and DOE say they remain committed to protecting workers and communities while modernizing regulation. But with hundreds of experienced regulators gone or sidelined, draft rules rolling out rapidly, and deep ties between tech investors and nascent reactor firms, U.S. nuclear oversight is in flux. Whether these changes will produce a safe, broadly supported expansion or weaken the safety regime remains hotly contested.
