Estonia Legalises Nuclear Power, 63-10

In February 2025, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania finally cut an energy tie that had bound them to Moscow since the Soviet era. After more than a decade of preparation, the three Baltic states disconnected from the Russian-controlled BRELL electricity system and synchronised with continental Europe's grid (ENTSO-E, Kleinman Center). Politically, that was the clean break. Technically, it left a harder question: how do you run the system when the old backstop is gone?

On 17 June 2026, Estonia's parliament voted 63 to 10 for the Nuclear Energy and Safety Act, giving the country a legal basis for peaceful nuclear energy for the first time in its history (Riigikogu). The law does not approve a reactor, pick a site or commit the state to building a plant. It sets out the rules: who regulates the sector, how permits are granted, and who carries the cost of waste. Estonia has written the rules of the road before deciding whether to buy the car.

From cutting a cord to filling the gap

An electricity grid is not a storage shed. Power going in and power coming out have to match almost instantly, otherwise the system starts to wobble. Wind and solar can produce cheap electricity, but they follow the weather. Batteries can cover hours, not usually weeks. Interconnectors let a small country lean on its neighbours, unless the neighbours are under pressure too.

That is the practical edge of the Baltic break from BRELL. Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania no longer depend on Moscow for frequency control, the constant balancing act that keeps electricity flowing at the right rhythm. But they also gave up something physical: the spinning mass of Russia's huge generator fleet, which had acted like a flywheel, absorbing sudden changes in supply and demand.

That job now sits with Baltic grids and their European partners. Lithuanian market data already shows the strain. In one recent week, local generation fell while demand rose, and imports had to jump to make up the difference (LRT). Cross-border cables help, but they are not magic. They have capacity limits, and keeping space available for grid stability can also reduce the amount of cheaper power moving between countries.

Nuclear enters the argument as firm low-carbon power. It runs whether the wind is blowing or not, and its large turbines provide the sort of physical inertia the Baltics lost when they left BRELL. It does not remove the need for cables, batteries or demand management. It changes the balance of reliable power inside the system.

A roadmap with many checkpoints

The Estonian law creates a nuclear regulator inside the Consumer Protection and Technical Regulatory Authority, known as TTJA. It is due to begin work on 1 January 2027. The permit system is deliberately slow and staged: preliminary assessment, construction licence, testing, operation and decommissioning (Riigikogu). Parliament has added another lock as well. Any construction decision will have to be approved by lawmakers themselves, not just by the regulator and government.

The company waiting for this framework is Fermi Energia. Its plan is for two GE Hitachi BWRX-300 small modular reactors, a design already under construction at Ontario's Darlington site and under regulatory review in the United States, which puts it beyond the purely conceptual stage (ANS). The target is first power by 2036 (ERR).

The estimated cost for roughly 600 MW of capacity is €4.5 billion. Estonia's Ministry of Climate says dozens of implementing regulations are still needed. The government's current position is that the state will not finance a nuclear plant. Fermi, for its part, argues that the project needs a state-backed price guarantee.

That is likely to be the real test. A law can make nuclear possible. It cannot, by itself, make the revenue stream bankable. Investors will not commit billions to a first-of-a-kind national project unless they can see who takes the price risk over decades.

The neighbours' answer sheet

Estonia is not the only northern European state trying to square climate targets, security and electricity demand. Sweden's Riksdag approved expanded nuclear siting on 15 June 2026, and Vattenfall has chosen Rolls-Royce SMR technology for three units near Ringhals (Riksdag, Rolls-Royce). Even there, Vattenfall's chief executive has put those reactors at around 2040 (SVT).

Latvia is taking a different route, putting money into interconnectors and battery storage rather than nuclear (TEGOS Legal). Lithuania has the cautionary memory. The dismantling of its Soviet-era Ignalina reactors will run until 2049, spent fuel will need storage for 50 years, and a geological repository is required by 2090 (LRT English).

The EU's position has also moved. Nuclear now qualifies under the taxonomy's climate rules, and the Net-Zero Industry Act treats small modular reactors as a strategic technology (EUR-Lex, World Nuclear News). That can make state support easier to justify. It does not compress the long stretch between legislation and electricity on the grid.

Estonia has approved the road, not the vehicle. The real test of Baltic energy sovereignty will come in the 2030s and 2040s, through staffed regulators, built cables, signed contracts and reactors that actually produce power. Nuclear may become part of that system. Whether it does will depend on questions no parliament can settle in a single vote: who pays, who builds, and whether Europe can turn small modular reactors from promising designs into dependable infrastructure.