Taiwan May Reverse its Nuclear Phase-Out

May didn’t feel like just another month in Taiwan — it felt like a turning point. For anti-nuclear activists, it was the culmination of a fight they’d waged for decades. On May 17, the island shut down its last operational nuclear reactor, closing the chapter on a technology they associated with radiation threats, authoritarian echoes, and a past they wanted to leave behind.

But for others, the miracle came later. It arrived quietly, without fanfare, without news alerts — simply in the fact that the lights stayed on.

That was the miracle noticed by Tsung-Kuang Yeh, a nuclear scientist and power-grid expert at National Tsing Hua University. Throughout May, Taiwan’s electricity demand brushed dangerously close to overwhelming supply, sometimes by fractions. He saw the numbers. He knew how lucky the island had been.

“That means the electricity is still barely sufficient,” he told me. “I’m worried about the next two months, when it gets even hotter. I don’t think we’re ready.”

And that worry — felt by engineers, investors, voters, and policymakers — is reshaping Taiwan’s nuclear debate in real time.

A Grid Under Strain

Ever since the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) launched its nuclear phaseout in 2018, Taiwan has been juggling an uncomfortable reality: more outages, higher electricity prices, and a grid stretched thin at exactly the moment demand began to skyrocket.

The expansion of gas-fired power plants helped, but not enough. The build-out of solar and offshore wind lagged behind targets. And as Taiwan’s semiconductor industry — the pride of the nation and backbone of global chipmaking — continued to grow, its appetite for electricity surpassed every projection.

This summer could have easily delivered an island-wide blackout. Yeh believes such a crisis might have turned the political tide completely. Next year, he warns, could be even worse.

And for a moment in August, it looked like voters were ready to reverse course. A referendum proposing to restart Taiwan’s last nuclear plant won a clear plurality — but not enough turnout to be legally binding. The will of voters was there; the numbers simply weren’t.

Still, the shift was unmistakable. Taiwan’s energy politics were changing.

The Geopolitical Shadow: China, Blockades, and LNG Tankers That Turn Away

Taiwan’s political battles don’t exist in a vacuum. They play out in the shadow of a looming geopolitical threat.

Beijing claims Taiwan as its own. And while the island has spent years relying on the theory of a “silicon shield” — the belief that its semiconductor industry is too vital for China to destroy — even that shield requires electricity to function.

And electricity requires fuel.

Taiwan imports nearly all of it.

Liquefied natural gas, the backbone of Taiwan’s energy system, arrives by tanker — tankers that already rerouted during China’s military drills after Nancy Pelosi’s 2022 visit. Taiwan has only a few weeks’ worth of LNG storage. A blockade doesn’t have to be long to be devastating.

Nuclear plants, meanwhile, can run more than two years without refueling. That simple fact is quietly shifting strategic calculations in Taipei.

A Silicon Shield That Needs Power

Taiwan’s semiconductor dominance depends on one thing above all: an unbroken flow of electricity. TSMC — the crown jewel of Taiwan’s economy — already sounded the alarm last year. Its domestic electricity costs had risen so sharply that the company warned Taiwan now had some of the highest industrial power prices in the world.

In May, another reminder hit home. NVIDIA CEO Jensen Huang — one of Taiwan’s most beloved native sons — returned home and did something unexpected: he urged Taiwan to reconsider nuclear power.

That endorsement landed like a cultural earthquake. To many, it felt like permission — permission to say out loud what growing numbers of Taiwanese were already thinking.

“It feels like so many things are breaking our way,” said Angelica Oung, an advocate with the Clean Energy Transition Alliance. “Public opinion, industry demand, Europe shifting back to nuclear — and now Jensen Huang speaking up. That matters.”

A Partisan Battle That Never Really Ended

Still, nuclear power doesn’t exist outside Taiwan’s ferocious partisanship. The DPP’s identity is rooted in its anti-nuclear beginnings. The KMT, by contrast, has long supported nuclear energy, using it as a pillar of Taiwan’s early industrial rise.

President Lai Ching-te has hinted at a softer stance, but his party remains deeply split. Some supporters see nuclear power as essential for energy security. Others view it as a betrayal of decades of environmental advocacy.

“Many still believe nuclear plants aren’t safe for Taiwan,” said Pin-Han Huang of the Mom Loves Taiwan Association, a longtime anti-nuclear group that recently rebranded into a broader climate organization.

But the data suggests the island’s voters have changed. A 2024 survey by Radiant Energy Group found Taiwan had some of the strongest pro-nuclear sentiment among 31 countries studied. Support spans both major parties — though the gap is wide: 68% among DPP voters, 94% among KMT voters.

Even so, referendum politics remain messy. Both parties view them as tools in broader political warfare — and that cynicism is reshaping outcomes.

How Taiwan Got Here: A Quick History of Atoms, Dictatorship, and Democracy

Taiwan’s relationship with nuclear energy began long before today’s debates. In the 1970s, under KMT rule, Taipei embraced nuclear power to fuel its industrial ambitions. By the 1980s, Taiwan was a manufacturing powerhouse — and nuclear energy supplied a significant portion of that growth.

Then came Chernobyl. Then came the DPP’s rise. Nuclear plants became symbols — not just infrastructure, but artifacts of authoritarian rule.

Yet even then, the anti-nuclear consensus fluctuated. DPP President Chen Shui-bian supported continued nuclear development in the early 2000s. The global shock from Fukushima in 2011 reignited fears. And by 2016, Tsai Ing-wen formally committed Taiwan to a “nuclear-free homeland.”

That was the plan.

Reality, however, had other ideas.

Delays in renewable projects. Struggling grids. Growing demand. A semiconductor industry that cannot slow down. And a geopolitical threat that refuses to fade.

America’s Hand on Taiwan’s Fuel Supply

Even if Taiwan wanted to embrace nuclear energy tomorrow, there’s a catch: the fuel. Taiwan’s reactors run on uranium enriched abroad — and under the U.S.–Taiwan 123 Agreement (which uniquely lasts in perpetuity), Taiwan agreed never to enrich its own.

It was a deal forged after the CIA helped dismantle Taiwan’s covert nuclear weapons program in the 1980s. And for some, it still feels like a leash.

Daniel Chen, a Taiwanese nuclear engineer studying in Canada, sees the restrictions as a strategic vulnerability.

“The U.S. controls the very resource that’s supposed to give Taiwan energy security,” he said. “There’s no guarantee the U.S. will intervene if China attacks. And they have enormous leverage over our leaders.”

In other words, nuclear energy offers security — but only as long as Washington stays committed.

And that commitment feels less certain every year.

The Referendum That Almost Was

August 23, 2025 was supposed to be the big test. Would voters choose to restart Taiwan’s third nuclear plant?

A clear majority of ballots said yes.

But turnout fell short of the required 50%. The referendum failed automatically.

The deeper problem wasn’t support — it was political exhaustion. A month earlier, an unprecedented wave of recall elections failed to remove a single KMT lawmaker. Anti-KMT voters mobilized for the recalls but stayed home for the nuclear vote, unwilling to hand the opposition a symbolic victory.

“It’s hard not to be cynical,” Oung admitted. “Referendums have become so politicized that voters think about party wins, not policy.”

Even if the referendum had passed, it was nonbinding. The final decision would still rest with President Lai.

A Global Shift That Taiwan Can’t Ignore

Taiwanese voters are unusually tuned in to global trends. They’ve watched Europe rethink nuclear power as the war in Ukraine exposes the dangers of relying on imported fuel. Switzerland voted to keep its reactors running. Belgium reversed its phaseout. Germany — long the face of anti-nuclear activism — is now considering restarting its plants. Spain is reevaluating its closure plans after the Iberian blackout.

Taiwan sees these shifts clearly. And many wonder whether shutting down nuclear plants just as the rest of the world reopens them was a mistake.

If Taiwan experiences another major blackout, Yeh believes the debate is over.

“What will it take?” he asked. He paused. He sighed.

“If there’s another island-wide blackout… he’ll move very fast.”

“He,” of course, is President Lai.

And in Taiwan’s current political climate, it’s hard to argue with Yeh’s logic. The island may have turned off its last nuclear reactor in May — but the nuclear debate is nowhere near finished. If anything, it’s just beginning.