Why the V.C. Summer Nuclear Station Story Still Hits a Nerve in South Carolina

Why the V.C. Summer Nuclear Station Story Still Hits a Nerve in South Carolina

Drive about thirty miles north of Columbia and you’ll find yourself in Jenkinsville. It's quiet. The scenery is classic South Carolina Piedmont—lots of pine trees and rolling hills. But then you see it: the massive containment structures of the V.C. Summer nuclear station. For some, those domes represent reliable carbon-free power. For others, particularly those who watched the "Nukegate" scandal unfold over the last decade, they are a monument to one of the most expensive industrial failures in American history.

It’s a complicated place.

Most people know V.C. Summer because of the two reactors that never got finished. Units 2 and 3. Those skeletons sat abandoned for years after a $9 billion collapse that basically nuked the reputation of the state’s utilities. But while the failed expansion gets all the headlines, Unit 1 is still chugging along. It has been since 1984. It’s this weird paradox where one of the most successful nuclear units in the Southeast sits right next to a multi-billion dollar graveyard of "what could have been."

The Unit 1 Workhorse

Let's talk about what actually works first. Unit 1 is a pressurized water reactor. It’s operated by Dominion Energy, though the South Carolina Public Service Authority (better known as Santee Cooper) owns a third of it. It produces about 966 megawatts. That is a massive amount of electricity. Honestly, without it, the grid in South Carolina would look a lot different.

The plant uses water from the Monticello Reservoir for cooling. If you’ve ever gone fishing there, you know the water stays warm, even in the winter. That’s the thermal discharge from the plant. It’s a symbiotic relationship that has defined the local ecology for forty years. In 2024, the Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC) actually issued a renewed license for Unit 1. It can now technically run until 2042. That's a long life for a machine built in the seventies.

What Really Happened with the Expansion

The real drama started around 2008. The "Nuclear Renaissance" was the buzzword of the day. Westinghouse had this new design, the AP1000. It was supposed to be modular. Safer. Faster to build. SCANA (the parent of SCE&G) and Santee Cooper went all in.

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They thought they were building the future. They weren't.

By 2017, the project was years behind schedule. Costs were spiraling. Westinghouse filed for bankruptcy. It was a mess. On July 31, 2017, the utilities pulled the plug. They just stopped. Thousands of workers were sent home. If you talk to people who worked on that site, they'll tell you stories of misplaced parts, design changes that happened mid-pour, and a general sense of chaos. It wasn't just bad luck; it was a systemic failure of oversight.

The fallout was nuclear, figuratively speaking.

Ratepayers were furious. They had already been paying for the unfinished plant through their monthly bills thanks to the Base Load Review Act. This law basically let utilities charge customers for construction before the plant even produced a spark of power. It was a massive transfer of risk from shareholders to families just trying to keep the lights on.

People went to jail. That’s a detail people often forget. Kevin Marsh, the former CEO of SCANA, was sentenced to prison for conspiracy to commit mail and wire fraud. Stephen Byrne, another top executive, also faced the music. The courts found that leadership had misled investors and regulators about the project's true status. They knew it was sinking while they were still telling the public everything was fine.

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Dominion Energy eventually swooped in and bought SCANA. They had to swallow the debt and the lawsuits. It was a bargain-bin deal for a utility that had been a blue-chip stock for generations.

The Abandoned Units Today

So, what happens to a half-finished nuclear plant?

For a while, there was talk of someone else coming in to finish Units 2 and 3. Maybe a different utility? Maybe a tech giant looking for data center power? But the math never worked. Once you stop construction on a nuclear site, the equipment starts to degrade. The "nuclear grade" certifications expire. It's not like a house where you can just pick up a hammer and start again.

Today, the site is being repurposed.

Dominion has been exploring the idea of putting solar farms on the land surrounding the abandoned structures. It’s a bit ironic. Massive concrete towers meant to house the pinnacle of 20th-century tech might soon be surrounded by 21st-century silicon panels.

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Why V.C. Summer Still Matters in 2026

You might think this is all old news. It isn't. As the U.S. looks at "Small Modular Reactors" (SMRs) to meet the insane power demands of AI and data centers, the V.C. Summer nuclear station serves as the ultimate cautionary tale.

It changed how we think about:

  • Utility Regulation: States are much more skeptical now of laws like the Base Load Review Act.
  • Project Management: The failure proved that "modular" construction is much harder than it looks on a PowerPoint slide.
  • Energy Equity: The poorest residents of South Carolina are still paying off the debt for a plant that will never give them a single kilowatt.

The irony is that the world is desperate for carbon-free baseload power. Wind and solar are great, but they aren't always there when the sun goes down or the wind stops. Nuclear is the only thing that can really replace coal and gas at scale. But because of what happened at V.C. Summer, it’s going to be a long, long time before anyone in the South tries to build a large-scale traditional nuclear plant again.

The ghost of the expansion project haunts every energy debate in the Statehouse.

Practical Takeaways for Ratepayers and Investors

If you live in South Carolina or invest in the energy sector, there are a few things you should keep an eye on regarding the V.C. Summer site.

  • Check your bill: If you are a Dominion or Santee Cooper customer, look at the line items. You are likely still seeing the "recovery" costs associated with the failed project. Understanding these charges helps you stay informed about local rate hike hearings.
  • Watch the NRC filings: The continued operation of Unit 1 is vital for the region's stability. Any "Request for Additional Information" (RAI) or safety flags from the NRC can signal upcoming maintenance outages that might affect local power prices.
  • Follow the SMR trend: As companies like NuScale or TerraPower look for sites to build smaller reactors, they often look at "brownfield" sites—places that already have transmission lines and water access. V.C. Summer is a prime candidate for this, though the political will isn't there quite yet.
  • Engage with the PSC: The Public Service Commission of South Carolina is where these battles are won or lost. They hold public comments. If you’re tired of paying for a "hole in the ground," that is the only place your voice actually carries weight.

The story of the V.C. Summer nuclear station isn't over. It’s just moved into a different phase. Unit 1 will keep humming along, quietly powering hundreds of thousands of homes, while the abandoned shells of Units 2 and 3 stand as a $9 billion reminder that in the world of big energy, there is no such thing as a "sure thing."

Stay informed on the upcoming Integrated Resource Plans (IRPs) from Dominion and Santee Cooper. These documents, filed every few years, will tell you exactly how they plan to replace the power that those failed units were supposed to provide. Usually, it's a mix of natural gas and renewables—a far cry from the nuclear dream of 2008.