Of all the many European collaborations threatened by Brexit, the UK’s participation in the European atomic energy community, Euratom, might seem an odd subject for Tory rebels to pick for their first fight. But the government’s policy on leaving this nuclear safety and research watchdog provides an unusually clear-cut example of the economic pain of taking back control – and one for which there is unusually limited political justification.

“Initially created to coordinate the member states’ research programmes for the peaceful use of nuclear energy,” explains the official legal summary, “the Euratom treaty today helps to pool knowledge, infrastructure and funding of nuclear energy. It ensures the security of atomic energy supply within the framework of a centralised monitoring system.”

What’s special about Euratom compared with other EU regulatory agencies?

Unlike the dozens of other, equally sensitive, regulatory arrangements for industries such as aviation or pharmaceuticals, Euratom has been singled out for special treatment because it is not technically part of the EU. Instead, the treaty that established this body to coordinate Europe’s civil nuclear energy industry was born in parallel with the birth of the European economic community in 1957.

Britain’s participation in this largely untouched relic of atomic camaraderie therefore required a separate legal relationship with the European court of justice to enforce it. Since Theresa May has committed the country to severing all ties with the ECJ, it also required a separate clause announcing our intention to leave in the article 50 legislation that triggered the start of the two-year Brexit process in March.

What is at risk if the UK does quit as proposed?

For the nuclear industry, rapid departure from Euratom without a clear replacement spells disaster. Scientists have warned that British power stations may not be able to source nuclear fuel if it cannot be legally transported across borders. The shipment of medical isotopes used in scans and cancer treatment is also said to be jeopardised. European workers on shared research projects, such as experimental fusion reactors, face an equally uncertain future without Euratom’s separate guarantees of freedom of movement.

Some critics have claimed that abrupt exit means that by 2025 “you could be doing your writing by candlelight on a typewriter” as the future of Britain’s nuclear industry hangs in the balance. Calmer voices argue that arranging new rules to ensure safety and govern shipments should not be that hard; just that it is likely to take much longer than the 20 months remaining.

But the cost of any short-term chaos is hard to justify given that nobody ever complained about the minor compromises imposed by Euratom on British sovereignty in the first place. Instead, it provides an embarrassing example of the unintended consequences of the prime minister’s hard red line on dealing with the ECJ – something even a former special adviser to the Brexit secretary has described as dangerously “absolutist”.



Is this the first of many regulatory rows?

More such awkward disentangling is almost certain to follow as Britain decides whether to leave other European regulatory agencies. But, these questions are currently shrouded in political fudge with the government officially undecided on what happens. So, for now at least, Euratom provides a taste of these many battles to come. The defection of just seven Tory MPs could be enough to give Theresa May’s fragile minority government a potentially fatal dose of radiation.