A regulation that raises gasoline prices makes people angry, but when regulation prevents an industry from ever existing, most people never learn what they lost.

Consider nuclear power. Overnight construction costs for early U.S. demonstration reactors fell 81 percent between 1954 and 1968. For reactors begun between 1967 and 1972, costs rose 187 percent. The 1971 Calvert Cliffs decision and then the reaction to Three Mile Island in 1979 accelerated the cost increases and slowed construction even further. Note the order: the turn was underway years before the accident that everyone blames for it.

The early decline fits a pattern economists call learning-by-doing: costs fall as cumulative experience with a technology accumulates. The pattern has been documented across aircraft manufacturing, solar panels, and other industries, and it is precisely what prolonged construction timelines and stalled deployment interrupt.

What might have happened had the earlier learning and deployment trends continued? Peter Lang's 2017 paper in Energies (PDF) estimates that nuclear power would have cost about one-tenth as much by 2015. The additional generation could have avoided as many as 9.5 million premature deaths.

The number is staggering even when quartered. Millions of deaths. Yet the graveyard was both invisible and silent. (Furthermore, climate change would not be a problem today had nuclear power not been handicapped.)

The nuclear story you probably know, but Niko McCarty has an excellent new Works in Progress piece on an invisible graveyard of technology that is far less familiar.

In the 1980s, officials decided to regulate engineered microbes under the Toxic Substances Control Act, a law written for industrial chemicals. Microbes swap genes all the time, but the EPA treats them as "new" whenever DNA is introduced from another genus. As a result, even a marker gene used simply to identify successfully edited cells can trigger review if it remains in the organism. McCarty reports that researchers filed more than 240 applications between 1987 and 2018: "Only a few were ever approved for widespread use."

What have we lost? We can't know for sure, but among the plausible losses McCarty discusses are engineered bacteria that detect buried explosives, microbes that extract rare-earth metals, and improved plastic-digesting enzymes. Similarly, Chernia et al. write:

Promising many societal benefits, emergent products of biotechnology involve releasing genetically modified microbes (GMMs) into the environment. However, regulatory challenges limit their use. So far, GMMs have mainly been tested in agriculture and environmental cleanup, with few approved for commercial purposes. Current government regulations inadequately address modern genetic engineering and limit the potential of gut therapeutics, skin products, self-repairing materials, ocean pollution treatment, anti-corrosion coatings, etc.

And those are just some of the plausible first-stage losses. Perhaps even more importantly, we learn by doing. Thus, no doing, no learning. The first approved product is rarely the safest or the best, but when we fail to approve the first, we don't get the much better fifth. Forty years of that process could have taken us well beyond the applications McCarty describes. We must build to build better.

Nuclear power at least left us enough reactors to get some idea of what we lost. With microbes, the author needed McCarty to explain that something was missing—even while studying these issues for a living. And note one reason the loss of new microbes was invisible: no vote was ever taken, and no debate was ever had. Officials in the 1980s reasoned that genomes are made of chemicals and chemicals are covered, and that doctrine has governed the field ever since despite being overly broad and excessively costly.

How many other gaps in our technology have explanations buried in the Federal Register?

Source: Marginal Revolution