We can't find any reason to fault the recent visit from the Department of Energy's second in command.

Deputy Energy Secretary Daniel Poneman's focus on DOE's commitment to nuclear safety during his third trip to Hanford sent the right message.

Holding a series of meetings that reached more than 4,000 Hanford employees was an effective way to emphasize the department's interest in promoting safety.

But it will take more than management's reassurances to restore public confidence in the $12.2 billion vitrification plant under construction at Hanford.

The departure of Ines Triay, assistant secretary for environmental management, and subsequent reorganization of the DOE Office of Environmental Management, aren't exactly confidence builders.

Change always creates anxiety, and these developments are more sweeping than most. Triay earned a reputation as a fierce advocate for cleaning up DOE's waste sites, especially Hanford.

Moreover, she is cited as a pivotal partner in the economic development efforts needed to wean the Tri-Cities from its dependence on cleanup jobs.

To his credit, Poneman pledged continued support for both of these keys to our community's future. The rhetoric is welcome, but Triay left some big shoes to fill.

Few folks outside the nuclear industry have more than a vague understanding of the process for turning Hanford's tank waste into glass logs for safe disposal.

But it's clear to Northwesterners that a credible panel of experts has raised serious questions about the safety culture at Hanford and what it means for the future of the vitrification plant.

The Defense Nuclear Facilities Safety Board released those findings last month after an extensive investigation. Among its other findings, the board concluded that inadequacies in the safety culture at the vit plant may have kept workers from reporting technical safety concerns. As a result, unresolved issues eventually could endanger successful operations.

In the exchange of letters between DOE and DNFSB over the report, the department appeared defensive. At a minimum, DOE takes issue with some of the board's findings.

DNFSB members aren't infallible. DOE officials ought to challenge any findings they believe are off target.

But no one should be surprised that stakeholders view the board's recommendations with grave interest. The members are serious scientists and technical experts with impressive credentials.

Congress created the board to identify threats to public health and safety at DOE's nuclear facilities. It's one of the precious few independent organizations offering credible, technical oversight of DOE operations.

Hanford often is described as the most contaminated site in the nation. The lack of independent oversight that existed for decades helped bring about the mess we face today.

From a public relations standpoint, it almost doesn't matter whether DOE's issues with the DNFSB findings are legitimate.

The potentially lethal legacy of nuclear and chemical contamination is a direct result of the nuclear defense mission's historic autonomy.

Past practices at Hanford make it highly unlikely the public will be happy until the board's concerns are satisfied.

Nothing against field visits from DOE's top managers. That high-level attention signals the department's seriousness, and that's an important message to deliver.

But clearing the cloud of doubt from the vit plant depends on DOE and DNFSB coming to terms.