Getting to Zero: A Future of No Nukes and a Death-Free Definition of National Interest

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When viewed on film, a nuclear weapons test might strike the discerning eye as a rip in the very fabric of existence. While one might view a supernova in the same light, not only doesn't the explosion of a star occur within the confines of a planet, but in an entire galaxy. Furthermore, a supernova is ultimately a creative force that leads to the formation of new stars.

By contrast, a nuclear explosion is a "destroyer of worlds," as Robert Oppenheimer famously described the first test, Trinity. He prefaced that expression with the words "I am become Death," from the Bhagavad Gita. In fact, viewing a nuclear explosion can induce a variety of religious experience (apologies to William James). We're engulfed by the sight of the mushroom cloud unfurling and billowing in slow, majestic motion. An inner peace obtains. Never mind that it's as insidious as being aroused by a snuff film.

Besides a break in the space-time continuum, nuclear weapons were a leap forward in the weapons-development continuum. But it wasn't long before they could be filed under the category of watch out what you wish for. Once the Pentagon and policy makers began coming to their senses, they realized that the larger, strategic weapons were, to understate the case, impractical. Even smaller, tactical weapons intended for battlefield use remained on the shelf because they failed to prove immune to the atomic and, especially, the hydrogen bomb's point-of-no-return taint.

Hawks, however, seem oblivious to how far nuclear weapons have fallen -- from the ultimate weapon to cold storage. Deterrence may make it all worthwhile to hawks, but, in fact, it reduces a nuclear-weapons program to a shotgun behind our national-security door. Not that much of the American public has a problem with deterrence. After all, what's behind the door in many American households is an assault rifle. Not only are we accustomed to overkill, we like our retaliation massive (our actual nuclear policy for a brief period in the 50s).

In fact, the quantum leap in weaponry that the development of nuclear weapons represents is an opportunity for those of us opposed to them to examine the very nature of war itself. After all, what are nuclear weapons if not war writ large? But, as with other weapons remarkable for their brutality, such as land mines and cluster bombs, an obstacle to comprehending their meaning is just as inherent in them as the opportunity. In other words, the immediacy of the threat makes stop-gap measures imperative.

These not only mitigate against reflection, but make it seem like impotent musing.

Yet one can't help but wonder if those who favor proliferation, deterrence, or even an attenuated disarmament understand a key characteristic of humans. Not only aren't most of us equipped to survive in a post-apocalypse world, we're incapable of imagining it. Meanwhile, the Pentagon has become less bullish about nuclear weapons, if only out of frustration with how hamstrung their use is by constraints. But the military is traditionally buoyed by its reflexive belief that the country with the most powerful weapons will prevail, as well as a professed willingness to die for its country.

Policy makers too may feel some insulation from the consequences of their decisions. They could swear they heard somewhere about an atomic shelter for the federal government. Unfortunately for them, while it existed -- in West Virginia -- it closed in 1995. Also, their sites set on the big picture, their own vulnerability eludes them, as do national doubts about starting the human project over after a nuclear holocaust. More to the point, though, inadequately informed about nuclear weapons, they've become complacent about their risk since the end of the Cold War.