One of the strangest experiences while flying across the continental U.S. happens above Wyoming, South Dakota, Nebraska and Kansas; soaring six miles above, one looks down upon networks of old missile silos.
The networks stretch for many miles; narrow access roads lead to graded sections of land, and each section has within it a small structure beneath which sits the silo. It would be easy to overlook these arrays, or mistake them for little ranches or houses, but there are far too many and they are spread too far apart for that misapprehension. These installations once housed soldiers trained to turn keys and push buttons. By now all the soldiers are gone, and any active networks are connected and operated by computer. This idea provides little comfort in an age of Internet hackers intent on infiltrating our defense establishment.
I’ve tried counting, but of course I can only see those silos visible from one side of the aircraft. As it is, I’ve counted hundreds. Many silos and their missiles have been decommissioned, but any remaining missiles have multiple warheads, each one independently targeted once the missile reaches its deployment altitude. Accordingly, hundreds of silo sites actually represent thousands of warheads, once poised and ready to inflict death like a many-headed Cerberus, fearsome guardian of the underworld.
When the cold war was at its height, our arsenal of nuclear weapons provided half of the equation of mutual assured destruction, a delightful fear-based strategy geared to insure that the Soviet Union would not initiate a nuclear attack. Despite the civil defense films of the 50s instructing kids in school to “duck and cover” in case of a nuclear attack, our strategic defense planners knew that hundreds of millions on each side would be annihilated. The absence of World War III, those planners say, proves their strategy was right.
Today, of course, the Soviet Union is gone, but America’s thousands of nuclear weapons remain. To the uncountable dollars spent for their creation, testing and deployment we can add billions more for their upkeep, storage, security, maintenance and renewal. Some may say billions spent to “keep the peace” is well worth it, but if humanity survives, I believe we will look back on such expenditures as sheer madness.
One direct result of our deployment of nuclear weapons and the commercialization of nuclear technology has been proliferation. India, China, Pakistan, North Korea, France, Britain, Germany and Israel all have weapons, other countries want to develop them, and nuclear power plants are now in operation all over the globe. The United States hypocritically rails against atomic weapons while having more of them than any other country. Proponents continue to press for more nuclear power plants, despite Chernobyl, Three-Mile Island and the recent catastrophe in Japan.
I grew up in the age of “duck and cover,” and the possible reality of nuclear war or accident has shadowed my entire life. I suspect this shadow will last well beyond my life, but I would like to think that my three-year-old granddaughter Isabelle might be spared this fear. For that to happen, a sea-change in world society will have to occur; perhaps the challenges of climate change will provide that motivation. For now, however, nuclear disaster is a ticking time-bomb just waiting for natural events or human foolishness to set it off.
