After twenty years of debate, delay, and division, Belgium’s parliament made a bold and controversial decision: to halt the nation’s long-standing plan to phase out nuclear energy. The motion passed with a clear majority—102 in favor, eight against, and 31 abstentions—marking what Energy Minister Mathieu Bihet hailed as “a decisive step for the economic, environmental, and strategic future of our country.”
For many, this move was hailed as pragmatic. Europe was grappling with energy insecurity, and nuclear power—despite its baggage—offered a stable, carbon-neutral source of energy. But beneath the applause in the chamber, dissenting voices echoed in quieter corners of the country.
One of those voices belonged to Dr. Lise Verviers, a systems engineer and professor of energy policy at the University of Liège. While others celebrated the return to nuclear as a triumph of realism over idealism, Lise remained unconvinced.
“This isn’t realism,” she told her students the next day. “It’s mimicry.”
She pointed to other countries—France, for example—that had leaned heavily on nuclear for decades. France had a head start, a robust nuclear infrastructure, and public institutions deeply entwined with the industry. Belgium, on the other hand, had neglected its aging reactors and invested minimally in nuclear research since the early 2000s. “We’re not applying a tested method here,” Lise warned. “We’re importing a narrative.”
Her lecture that afternoon centered on a core principle: a solution must be invented, not borrowed. Yes, nuclear power could be a part of the answer—but only if it emerged from Belgium’s specific context: its grid limitations, public concerns, decommissioning costs, and the need for energy democratization.
“Imagine your neighbor has a beautiful garden because she used a certain kind of soil,” she said. “You take her soil and dump it on your land. But your climate, your crops, your sunlight—all are different. Will your garden bloom the same way?”
The energy transition, she argued, wasn’t about selecting from a menu of ready-made options. It was about designing a method that fit the land, the people, the era.
Minister Bihet had said, “This is not just an energy reform.” Lise agreed—but for a different reason. It was a signal. A signal that Belgium was looking outward for answers when the real solution lay in turning inward, analyzing deeply, and crafting a model that no other country could hand over.
At a public forum weeks later, she posed one final question to the crowd:
“What do we need—an energy model that looks strong on paper? Or one grown from our own soil, with roots deep enough to weather the storms ahead?”
The applause was more hesitant than the parliament’s vote—but it was growing.
All names of people and organizations appearing in this story are pseudonyms
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