How can we die in an unthinkable fashion? Let me (actually the editors of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists) count the ways. Homeland Security Czar Tom Ridge doesn't have a clue. The brain trust surrounding W doesn't have a clue. 9/11 was unthinkable (to everyone except Tom Clancy), but it happened. If this is (fair & balanced) scarifying, so be it.
[x Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists]
Rethinking doomsday
By Linda Rothstein, Catherine Auer and Jonas Siegel
Loose nukes, nanobots, smallpox, oh my! In this age of endless imagining, and some very real risks, which terrorist threats should be taken most seriously?
This year, beginning with the January/ February 2004 issue, the Bulletin began a series of articles we dubbed "Rethinking Doomsday." The effort was in direct response to the remarkable proliferation of potential death-and-destruction scenarios about which so much has been made since 9/11.
There is no doubt that the attacks of September 11, 2001 made clear that Americans faced very real dangers at home that few had foreseen and even fewer had taken seriously. Three years later, many, if not most, of us remain frightened.
But so many doomsday scenarios have been paraded on TV, in the newspapers, and in the course of political campaigns, that we can't help asking: How many possible terrorist attacks with how many possible weapons can there be? Must we, while worrying about nuclear holocaust or about terrorists commandeering airplanes or detonating conventional explosives, also worry that tomorrow we will come in contact with an evildoer bearing live smallpox stolen from somewhere in Siberia, with which he intends to infect the entire unsuspecting United States? (Government officials blithely assure us that we are all safer than we were before 9/11, but also say a smallpox epidemic is a case of "not if, but when.") How much time should we have devoted to the idea that the United States faced a gathering threat from Saddam Hussein's chemical weapons? About a plot to poison the food supply? Or should we worry if foreign visitors are seen taking snapshots of the Flatiron Building?
Sometimes it seems as if the source of newly announced dangers must be the basement of the White House or a back room at a Washington think tank, where the thousands of monkeys who have yet to type out exact copies of the works of Shakespeare are nonetheless producing dozens of new ideas for attacks on America, to be trotted out on the news at 10.
The "rethinking" reader on page 39 lists the articles published in 2004 that led us to our own conclusions about rethinking doomsday. (Many are available at the Bulletin's web site, www.thebulletin.org.) The following is a recap of what we learned.
Chemical weapons
In "The Dew of Death," Joel Vilensky and Pandy Sinish recounted the strange story of lewisite, an arsenic-based chemical weapon developed by the Chemical Warfare Service during World War I.
By the end of the war, the United States was producing 10 tons a day of the stuff, yet it was never used in battle, where it would probably have flopped. Lewisite shares many of the problems that have prevented most chemical weapons from entering the world's armies' battlefield arsenals: Most chemicals are very hard to disseminate in sufficiently undiluted form, and might not work in weather that is too hot, too cold, too windy, or too wet. The dilution problem would also make it very difficult to carry out an attack involving the poisoning of a major city's water supply.
Nearly every article about terrorist uses of chemical or biological weapons begins by recalling Aum Shinrikyo's use of sarin gas in 1995 in the Tokyo subway. Employing five separate packages of poison, cult members managed to kill 12 commuters, although another 1,000 had to seek hospital treatment. The attack was shocking, yet fell short of the cult's ambitions. (Shoko Asahara, the leader of the group, aspired either to be Japan's prime minister or to kill as many of his countrymen as possible.)
Saddam Hussein's forces used poison gas at Halabja in the open air. Halabja, a Kurdish city in northern Iraq, is perhaps the best known of the several dozen towns and villages Saddam Hussein is thought to have gassed in 1987 and 1988. Some 5,000 of its population of 70,000 died as a result of being bombarded with what might have been a combination of mustard gas, nerve agent, and possibly cyanide.
The attack was a monstrous crime, but the Iraqi military succeeded by having complete control over the place, the time, and the choice of a day with ideal weather--and because it faced no danger of experiencing any resistance. Saddam's men were able to spread the poisons systematically (delivery might have been by a combination of dispersal from low-flying planes and attack with chemical shells). The Halabja massacre was not a demonstration of the unique power of chemical weapons, but of the fact that the population was defenseless.
Iraq, and probably Iran, also used poison gas during the Iran-Iraq war (1980-1988). Even as thousands of young people were slaughtered in a war that ended in stalemate, the war's less-controlled, battlefield use of chemical weapons is customarily assessed as having lent neither side an advantage.
Today, few of the world's militaries would even consider using chemical weapons--they can contaminate the battleground and come back on the attackers if the wind takes an unexpected turn. The major militaries--including those of the United States, Britain, Russia, and Germany--have dumped old munitions (not always carefully) or have spent, or need to spend, billions of dollars to neutralize decaying munitions that could threaten civilians who live near storage sites. Some tiny amount of worry should probably be devoted to leaking chemical munitions.
If civilians do not need to fret too much about attacks from the air, they should perhaps worry a little more about chemicals deployed in enclosed or otherwise contained environments, where they can be delivered at concentrated levels. Somehow, though, it's hard to jump from the Aum Shinrikyo case to believing that overseas villains would find it easy to deliver deadly doses at will.
On the other hand, a domestic effort, with greater access to American ingenuity and reliable materials and work space in which to generate lethal chemical mixtures would be another matter (see "Homegrown Terror," by Michael Reynolds, page 48).
Let's recap. Chemical attack by international terrorists: Possible. Probable? No. Time spent worrying about it? Possibly wasted.
Domestic terrorists' use of chemical weapons? Possible. Probable? Best known potential case found by accident--and experts say that as a result of emphasis on international terrorism, domestic cases are being neglected.
Biological weapons
The Aum Shinrikyo cult recruited technical experts from around the world, had a net worth of more than a billion dollars, and is repeatedly mentioned as the most salient example to show that international terrorists will attack the United States with biological weapons. But all of Aum's attacks occurred in Japan, on its own turf, and the cult's attempts to poison Japanese citizens with botulin or anthrax--efforts it made between 1990 and 1995, before turning to sarin gas--were utter failures.
Conversely, the culprit (or culprits) who sent letters containing anthrax spores through the mail in September 2001 has not been apprehended, and his or her identity remains a mystery, at least to the public--this despite the fact that the perpetrator used a strain of anthrax known to be of U.S. origin, that it was milled in a highly sophisticated manner, also suggesting it was likely produced in one of a limited number of facilities, and that in all likelihood the perpetrator works or worked among a fairly limited universe of possible suspects in government or government-contract laboratories. Some worry might be devoted to why the attacks occurred, why they stopped, and whether they might start again.
An industry seems to have sprung up devoted to inculcating fear in Americans about contagious diseases, especially smallpox. In the run-up to Gulf War II, it was said that Iraq was likely to unleash smallpox on the American public. Promulgators of panic were less clear about how, where, or why it would do so. But they assured us there would be an epidemic. From what we can tell, they were wrong on nearly all counts.
Smallpox is a serious business. And although transmission seems somewhat avoidable--it occurs through close contact, often with someone who has visible signs of the disease, namely, pox--the great historical smallpox epidemics still had 30-50 percent mortality rates.
More than 200 years ago, Edward Jenner's development of a vaccine began to change the picture. Still, according to Richard Pilch ("Smallpox: Threat, Vaccine, and U.S. Policy," Center for Nonproliferation Studies) "in the twentieth century, smallpox killed more people than war." Accordingly, after World War II, a major global effort was undertaken to stamp out the disease. By 1980, when the entire world was declared smallpox free, the disease had been eradicated in the United States for some time. All samples of the virus were then destroyed, except for two, which were maintained at the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, and at the then-Soviet Union's State Research Center for Virology and Biotechnology, known as Vector.
Although there have been no outbreaks in the United States for decades, a supply of vaccine remains--about which there is some controversy, because inoculation with live virus can pose a risk. There is one well-known supply of about 15 million doses, which is generally accepted as entirely usable, and another supply of approximately 80 million doses, which was mysteriously rediscovered in 2002. Because of its exotic provenance, this second supply has been generally considered unsuitable for anything but emergency use. In tests since its discovery, however, the second supply appears to be safe and effective. Meanwhile, the U.S. government has contracted with OraVax for the production of some 300 million additional doses.
Stalwart Cold Warriors have long insisted that Russia gave smallpox samples to Iraq, although there is no evidence to support such a claim. (It seems counterintuitive for Russia to eagerly share a deadly microbe if its reintroduction would endanger its own population.) Various U.S. intelligence agencies have also claimed that France, as well as Russia and Iraq, had illicit samples of smallpox. At various times they hypothesized that Iraq either was given smallpox samples by Russia, retained some virus from a 1971-1972 outbreak in Baghdad, or developed it in an indigenous program to adapt camelpox. Of course, no virus was found in Iraq, either during the 1991-1998 period of post-Gulf War I U.N. inspections, or during the pre-Gulf War II U.N. inspections, or as a result of the activities of U.S. search teams during and after the latest conflict since January 2003.
So we escaped an attack by Iraq. But would we all be doomed if Al Qaeda terrorists (perhaps bearing some of that rumored French smallpox) decided to infect the United States?
It seems unlikely. First, set aside the problems attackers would face in trying to deliver the disease other than through person-to-person contact. (Cold Warriors speculated that the Soviets would fill intercontinental ballistic missiles with the virus and send the missiles over the North Pole.) The key to preventing a major outbreak is a good public health system that can detect a handful of cases before the disease spreads. Meanwhile, helping to slow the spread are two surprising findings: A study by Oregon Health and Science University researchers, reported in the September 2003 issue of Nature Medicine, revealed that in contrast to conventional wisdom that the effects of vaccination lasted only a few years, "90 percent of those vaccinated 25 to 75 years ago maintain a substantial level of immunity." In other words, half the U.S. population (nearly everyone was vaccinated before 1972) has some degree of immunity, a considerable barrier to the rapid spread of smallpox. Simultaneously, if cases were detected, there would be time to vaccinate the unprotected population.
As for the vaccine's availability, there seems to be an adequate supply. Doctors at Vanderbilt University report in the September 8 issue of the Journal of the American Medical Association that the vaccine in the emergency supply can be diluted to as much as one-tenth and still provide an overall vaccination success rate of 99.4 percent.
Let's recap. There are no known smallpox stocks in the hands of evildoers. An antidote exists in plentiful supply. And half the population is already protected.
How much time should Americans spend worrying about attack-by-smallpox? Probably not as much as on the spread of naturally occurring nastiness like flu epidemics, Ebola, and hantavirus, and probably not as much as on laboratory concoctions like bioengineered new strains of anthrax.
And speaking of anthrax, the U.S. government seems to have learned little from the anthrax-in-the-mail experience. As Susan Wright explains in "Taking Biodefense Too Far," (see page 58), the government is responding to the newer, high-tech threat of specially engineered pathogens against which there may be no defense by spending billions to produce some, in the process creating a cadre of highly specialized germ weaponeers and constructing dozens of special laboratories where they will be able to work in comfortable secrecy. As other Bulletin authors have pointed out, some of these facilities are being placed behind the barriers of the nation's nuclear weapons laboratories, all the better to make it less likely that their dangerous activities will be properly monitored.
Officials would no doubt respond that these U.S. facilities will be safe. Well, maybe. But that ignores a long history of poor judgment. The U.S. government conducted open air tests of dangerous biologicals in, among other places, the United States, Central America, the Pacific, and the Caribbean, leaving a trail of contamination behind.
Not that other countries have been any more responsible. The Soviets built a major test facility on Vozrozhdeniye Island. Now that the Aral Sea is drying up, it's just a matter of time before the pathogens in the island's soil and in insect and wildlife populations spread to the mainland. Cleanup, if it happens, won't be easy. Britain struggled to clean up its anthrax mess at Gruinard Island--eventually doing so with formaldehyde.
Nanotechnology
Nanotech is the new, high-tech wild-card of doomsday scenarios. The emerging science of manipulating the supersmall--molecules and atoms--has generated some popular scare stories, such as the "grey goo" scenario, in which a swarm of self-replicating nanobots smothers all life in its path. But is this really a threat? If the number of defensive measures developed to combat grey goo is any indication, not really. So far, there's no such thing as a grey-goo fighting wand or a nanobot-safe shelter.
Maybe it is too daunting a task to prepare for a threat that seems so futuristic. Or maybe the informed opinion of some scientists that the out-of-control self-replication of nanomachines is avoidable, if not entirely impossible, has kept the public, government, and industry from over-worrying.
The risk of nanomachines uncontrollably self-replicating is "very low," reported Margaret Kosal, now a fellow at Stanford University's Center for International Security and Cooperation, in the September/October Bulletin. But there's still room for concern: "To say that nanotechnology could never lead to self-replication, or that uncontrolled self-assembly would not have unintended consequences, would be presumptive," concluded Kosal.
Other researchers are convinced that "molecular manufacturing"--machines that could someday be able to construct precise atomic structures--has scary potential.
In his 1986 book Engines of Creation, K. Eric Drexler envisioned nanomachines capable of building structures from the atom up. He was the first to imagine the implications of a runaway self-replication process. Drexler recently sought to tone down speculation about the possibility of an accidental runaway replication and to legitimize research into molecular manufacturing. In a paper coauthored by Chris Phoenix, Drexler wrote that "the development and use of molecular manufacturing need not at any step involve systems that could run amok as the result of accident or faulty engineering." Still, Drexler and Phoenix were adamant that "no law of nature prevents [a runaway replication's] deliberate development."
As with biotechnology, the potential for the misuse of nanotechnology grows when esoteric technological expertise is coupled with access to sophisticated tools.
A greater nanotech threat than self-replicating nanobots, according to Drexler, is the potential that "a powerful and convenient manufacturing capacity could be used to make powerful non-replicating weapons in unprecedented quantity, leading to an arms race, war, terrorism, or oppression." Researchers at Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory are already making strides toward the mass production of nanostructures. In April, they announced that they had designed a way to transform a carbon nanotube into a "conveyor belt" capable of transporting a stream of atom-sized particles to a "construction site," where they could hypothetically be combined with other materials to create larger structures.
The scenario imagined by Drexler appears similar to those envisioned by Kosal, where nanotechnology could be used to enhance the effectiveness of existing chemical or biological weapons, or to create entirely new weapons. Considering the various factors that presently complicate the delivery of chemical and biological weapons, or the creation of miniature nuclear fusion bombs, this is perhaps one avenue where nanotechnology has the potential to play more than a wild-card role.
The U.S. government's message to the public has so far been full of praise for the potential benefits of nanotechnology and lacking in outward concern about potential dangers. Little has been done to guard against the potential for nanotechnology to contribute to mass destruction, or to protect against a less fear-inspiring, but more prescient concern. Only in June did the Defense Department announce that it was funding a five-year project to determine which, if any, characteristics of nanoparticles--the ones now showing up in tennis balls, clothing, and other commercial products--are toxic or have adverse effects.
Although there has been some research on the toxicity of nanoparticles and their potential effect on the environment and in the food cycle, scientists still do not know much about the implications and dangers of nanotechnology in general.
Let's recap. Death and destruction are unlikely to come at the microscopic "hands" of swarms of nanobots in the near future, but the possibility of such an event isn't likely to leave the public consciousness anytime soon and can't be dismissed out of hand. More immediate concerns should center on the potential misuse of nanotechnology and the dearth of information about the effects of nanoparticles on the environment and in the food chain.
Dangerous proliferation
In early 2004, President George W. Bush called nuclear weapons the "greatest threat to mankind." But his administration has pursued a broader arsenal, lifted the 10-year ban on RandD on new low-yield nukes, moved to shorten the preparation period for nuclear testing, and deployed an untested missile defense that many perceive as an offensive measure. As Robert S. Norris and Hans M. Kristensen reported in the September/ October "Nuclear Notebook," the U.S. arsenal's combined yield is about 1,800 megatons--still overwhelming, if reduced, firepower. The yield of the bomb dropped on Hiroshima was a mere 15 kilotons.
But no one in the administration seems worried about overkill. "The national laboratories, where weapons designers are eager for fresh challenges, are exerting tremendous pressure for a renewed mission complete with new weapons and programs," reported Andy Oppenheimer in "Mini-Nukes: Boom or Bust?" In the same issue, Bret Lortie wrote that the Energy Department looked to be gearing up for new nuclear responsibilities at Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory. Critics called Energy's plan "a shocking blueprint for an increasingly aggressive and robust nuclear weapons program."
Speaking of robust, in the May/ June issue Jonas Siegel showed how Defense's proposed budget revealed its plans for pursuing the Robust Nuclear Earth Penetrator. Oh, and not to mention that the Bush administration is building a new plutonium pit fabrication plant capable of churning out 250-900 new weapon cores a year by 2018 (see "Dismantling U.S. Nuclear Warheads").
The United States has also gone back on its own proliferation rules, against the "long-standing prohibition against using commercial nuclear reactors to produce bomb materials--the so-called no-dual-use policy," Kenneth Bergeron reported in the January/February Bulletin. Critics of the administration's plan to produce tritium at Watts Bar are "concerned with the U.S. government's retreat from nonproliferation principles."
The United States seems to have a problem with proliferation principles. "It is ironic and hypocritical that the Bush administration has condemned both North Korea and Iran for their apparent efforts to develop nuclear weapons," wrote Ronald Powaski in the January/ February Bulletin. "Clearly, if the Bush administration were serious about halting the proliferation of nuclear weapons, it would accept the same standards of behavior that it is attempting to impose on non-nuclear weapons states."
Let's recap. The Bush administration warns about proliferation but is going forward with new nuclear plans, which prompts other nuclear weapon states to modify their arsenals (see "Nuclear Policy: France Stands Alone," and "Russian Nuclear Forces, 2004"), and prompts other nations to gain nuclear weapons status. Could proliferation alone be the end of the world? Not technically--you need someone to push the button. But think about this:
Who might be next to catch the nuclear fever? Terrorists, maybe?
The many nuclear maybes
Thinking for a moment about the many different ways in which the United States could come under some kind of nuclear-related attack is enough to make the eyes bulge, pulse race, and head swim. Terrorists could steal or buy an intact nuclear weapon and detonate it in the United States. Or they could steal or buy fissile material, make a crude nuclear weapon, and blow it up within our borders. Or they could couple fissile material to explosives and craft a radiological dispersion device--a "dirty bomb." Let's not forget the more than 100 U.S. nuclear power plants (which some like to call sitting ducks) that are potential targets of attack or sabotage.
Of these, the first is the least likely. It would be extremely difficult for terrorists to acquire an intact weapon from one of the eight nuclear weapon states. The security of these weapons, especially those in Russia and Pakistan, is a valid concern. But to detonate an intact, stolen Russian nuke, a terrorist would have to get past security safeguards built into the weapon, such as authorization codes. And Pakistani nuclear weapons (believed to number up to 50) are reportedly stored separately from the weapons' cores. Besides the difficulties associated with obtaining a ready-made, good-to-go nuke, there would be other barriers--such as transporting and preparing to deliver it undetected. This is perhaps the lowest probability, highest consequence scenario of nuclear terrorism.
Getting the core material
Could terrorists produce an entirely do-it-yourself nuclear bomb? Fabricating fissile material, highly enriched uranium (HEU) or separated plutonium, is exceedingly labor-and resource-intensive--and both activities present many opportunities for detection. Terrorist-produced fissile material is so extremely unlikely that it's safe to call it impossible.
But it is possible that a group of nuclear-minded evildoers would attempt to build their own nuclear weapon using stolen or black market fissile material. Al Qaeda's interest in nuclear weapons has been documented, as have meetings between Osama bin Laden and sympathetic nuclear scientists. As Morten Bremer Mærli and Lars van Dassen write on page 19, the major barrier to nuclear terrorism is acquiring fissile material. And there are thousands of tons of fissile material stockpiled around the globe, as David Albright and Kimberly Kramer report on page 14. Certainly, not all of it is a security concern; however, "Not only do nuclear thieves stand a chance in Russia (and elsewhere), they have repeatedly been successful, stealing weapons-usable nuclear material without setting off any alarm or detector," according to Matthew Bunn of the Project on Managing the Atom ("Securing the Bomb," Harvard University, May 2004). The CIA recognizes that there have surely been undetected cases of theft of fissile materials, in addition to nearly 20 documented (and intercepted) incidents. And as Albright and Corey Hinderstein reported in "The Centrifuge Connection," a nuclear black market--with possible state ties--can exist and thrive for years before detection.
If terrorists are able to buy or steal plutonium or HEU, could they be clever enough to build a crude nuclear bomb? The answer, according to many experts, is yes. Provided they had enough fissile material, resourceful and determined terrorists could fabricate both gun-style and implosion design nuclear weapons. Of plutonium and highly enriched uranium, HEU is more attractive to terrorists--easier to handle and transport, it's more easily diverted. As Mærli and van Dassen write, many believe that eliminating Russia's stocks at a faster pace would contribute greatly to Europe's increased security.
Dirty bombs
If terrorists lack the skills to build a crude nuclear bomb, but are able to acquire fissile material, they could construct a dirty bomb--conventional explosives coupled with fissile or other radioactive material. "An improvised terrorist device using highly enriched uranium could be smuggled into this country in virtually undetectable segments, and then assembled in any one of 50 million suburban garages," wrote Christopher Paine in "The Party of Preemption."
Detonated in a populated area, a dirty bomb would expose many people to radioactive particles dispersed by the explosion, but any immediate fatalities would be caused by the blast and not exposure to radioactivity (although exposure has the potential to cause eventual fatalities).
Among the many types of damage would be economic; analysts at the University of Southern California's terrorism center predict that a dirty bomb exploded at the Los Angeles and Long Beach port complex could cost $34 billion. That's just a best guess; no one really knows for sure the kind of damage a dirty bomb would do because it would depend largely on unpredictable factors such as bomb design, detonation location, and weather.
There has never been a dirty bomb attack. True, Jose Padilla was arrested in Chicago and accused of plotting, in the words of Attorney General John Ashcroft, "to build and explode a radiological dispersion device, or 'dirty bomb,' in the United States."
But as Lewis Z. Koch explained in "Dirty Bomber? Dirty Justice," the evidence against the ex-gang member was thin. Plus, Koch reported, "Although some materials from hospitals, research universities, and other facilities are radioactive enough to be lethal, it would be very difficult to deliver high doses to more than a few people." One way a terrorist might do more damage is by using the extremely radioactive spent fuel from a power plant, but "Putting aside the controversy surrounding security at U.S. nuclear power plants, a would-be dirty bomber faces a Herculean task." The spent fuel is heavy, hard to access, and dangerously radioactive, Koch noted. If would-be dirty bombers were to somehow access a spent fuel pool and remove rods to another location, they would have been exposed to "enough radiation to make them burnt toast."
And the "ultimate dirty bombs"
That nuclear power plants are ripe targets is nothing new. The Nuclear Regulatory Commission (NRC) was forced to admit after 9/11 that U.S. nuclear power plants were not designed to withstand the force of a crashing jetliner, which some worry could cause either a core meltdown or a fire in spent fuel pools. "A single spent fuel pond holds more cesium 137 than was deposited by all atmospheric nuclear weapons tests in the Northern Hemisphere combined," Robert Alvarez reported for the Bulletin in 2002. The radioactivity released from a pool fire could render hundreds to thousands of square miles uninhabitable.
"Spent fuel pools present the most severe consequences and vulnerability at nuclear power stations," Alvarez told the Los Angeles Times (September 16). "They are the ultimate dirty bomb."
But the NRC has no plans to reinforce the plants. "The NRC has been in a state of denial," said Frank von Hippel (Los Angeles Times, September 16).
Could intruders force their way into a reactor to wreak havoc? Past incidents have demonstrated that one need not have sophisticated plans or skills in order to gain some level of access to a nuclear plant. In 1993, a mentally ill man drove his mother's station wagon past the guarded entrance at Three Mile Island (TMI). Although he was driving at about 35 miles per hour, the surveillance cameras couldn't swivel fast enough to keep up with his car. The intruder drove through a fence, then a roll-up door, and into the turbine building, where he got out of his car and hid before he was arrested four hours later. Fortunately, his intentions were not malicious.
Sure, that was more than 10 years ago, but at the time, the TMI plant had earned the NRC's highest security rating. In general, nuclear plant security teams have miserable reputations for failing to prevent even mock attacks for which they've been forewarned. After 9/11, it took the Energy Department nearly three years to revise its security standards--and the new standards fall short by many experts' measure, as Stephen Schwartz wrote in "A Slow Sort of Security."
Should one worry, too, about insider nuclear sabotage? There are no reported cases of this, but it's another scary possibility. Before September 11, 2001, the NRC reported several cases of nuclear power plant workers who were inappropriately granted "unescorted access" to sensitive areas at some plants. Employees are supposed to undergo background checks, which are done by outside contractors. Several contractors had falsified or not completed the checks.
How much damage could a terrorist group do by attacking a nuclear power plant? That's a big unknown. The accidents at Three Mile Island in 1979 and Chernobyl in 1986 give some shaky indication, although as Joseph Mangano reported in the Bulletin earlier this year, questions about the health effects of TMI remain unanswered. The figures for fatalities caused by the Chernobyl meltdown are controversial and range from as few as 30 to as many as tens of thousands. The psychological, environmental, and economic impacts of potential nuclear terrorism are impossible to quantify.
Let's recap. Nuclear terrorism is not easy, but it is possible.
It's likely that nuclear-bent terrorists would take the path of least resistance, which makes theft or purchase of an intact nuke or self-fabrication of fissile material very unlikely. A dirty bomb would be perhaps the easiest, and least harmful, "nuclear" attack.
That the NRC has been inexplicably slow to improve security at nuclear power facilities is cause for concern. As long as nuclear power plants operate, they will be potential targets. To date, the scariest near-misses at U.S. plants involve human mistakes (such as allowing boric acid to eat almost all the way through the reactor lid at Davis-Besse in Ohio) and not malevolent actions. When it comes to nuclear facilities, perhaps both error and terror deserve equal amounts of worry.
There are too many different ways in which terrorists could perpetrate some kind of nuclear attack to mention in this limited space. But keep this in mind: There have been zero cases of nuclear terrorism--neither nuclear nor radiological. There are no known cases of theft or purchase of an intact nuclear weapon, so a terrorist attack with one is more than unlikely. There has not been any documented theft of enough fissile material for a crude nuke--although there have been attempts. There has never been a dirty bomb attack. There has never been a case of nuclear plant sabotage. If there were, it would be awful--but not the end of humanity.
The sum of all fears?
So far these nuclear doomsday scenarios have focused on terrorism. But the most destructive of all nuclear threats is nuclear war. After all, eight nations have nuclear arsenals, but a terrorist group would have to work feverishly to get their hands on a single warhead, or enough material to make one.
Is an incoming nuclear missile attack plausible? Yes, but unlikely. The Cold War is over, and the ballistic missile threat from nuclear-capable nations is extremely minor. In February 2001, the Defense Intelligence Agency listed Iraq, Iran, and North Korea as "countries of concern" that might someday field long-range, WMD-capable missiles, and Russia and China as nations expanding their long-range missile programs. One presumes Iraq is now off the list. As to Iran and North Korea, both nations have decent missile capabilities, but Iran cannot strike the United States, and most analysts believe the same about North Korea, despite its boasts. On the other hand, North Korea has nuclear material, and Iran is believed to be working toward a nuclear weapons capability. China has a whopping 20 Dong Feng missiles that can reach America. (The United States has close to 6,000 operational strategic nuclear weapons, as the Bulletin's May/June "Nuclear Notebook" reported.) Russia's capabilities are more comparable to America's, and Russia is expanding its capabilities, according to the July/August "Nuclear Notebook," but a planned attack from Moscow is extremely improbable.
Boo-boo nukes
What's more likely is an accidental nuclear attack. Both Russia and the United States still maintain nuclear-armed ICBMs on high alert and adhere to "launch-on-warning" policies, as Alan Phillips and Steven Starr wrote in the May/June Bulletin. Launch-on-warning means that if either Washington or Moscow thinks it is under attack from the other, it will launch a retaliatory strike before the supposed incoming missiles can do any damage. A false warning could mean the start of an accidental nuclear war. Keeping launch-on-warning policies alive is "inexcusably dangerous," Phillips and Starr wrote. "Launch-on-warning has exposed the world, for at least 30 years, to the danger of a nuclear war caused by nothing but a coincidence of radar, satellite sensor, or computer glitch, and a temporary human failure to appreciate that the message signaling attack is false."
So far, there have been no false launches--but there have been many false warnings.
Nuclear terrorism would be horrific, but nuclear war would be far worse. As Lynn Eden reported in "City on Fire," fire damage from nuclear explosions has been vastly and systematically underestimated--a move that allowed early U.S. war planners to demand a much larger nuclear arsenal. As Eden wrote, a single 300-kiloton nuclear weapon detonated above the Pentagon on a clear day would engulf the surrounding 65 square miles in firestorms that would "extinguish all life and destroy almost everything else." And that's a conservative estimate.
Let's recap. An attack from a weapons state is highly unlikely; an accidental nuclear launch is far more worrisome. As remote as the possibility is, all-out nuclear war has the potential to end human life on the planet--still the true doomsday scenario.
Sidebar: The "rethinking" reader
January/February
"Nuclear Weapons: The Death of No-Dual-Use," by Kenneth Bergeron
"Bush's Nuclear Hypocrisy," by Ronald E. Powaski
"City on Fire," by Lynn Eden
"Dirty Bomber? Dirty Justice," by Lewis Z. Koch
"Nukes Without Borders," by Linda Rothstein
"Dismantling U.S. Nuclear Warheads," by Robert S. Norris and Hans M. Kristensen
"The Party of Preemption," by Christopher Paine
March/April
"The Centrifuge Connection," by David Albright and Corey Hinderstein
"The Dew of Death," by Joel A. Vilensky and Pandy R. Sinish
"Weapons Labs Good to Go," by Jonas Siegel
"The Protection Paradox," by Hans M. Kristensen, Matthew G. McKinzie, and Robert S. Norris
May/June
"Let's Go No-LOW," by Alan Phillips and Steven Starr
"Schooling Iran's Atom Squad," by Jack Boureston and Charles D. Ferguson
"An NPT for Non-Members," by Avner Cohen and Thomas Graham Jr.
"Defusing the Nuclear Middle East," by Bennett Ramberg
"Pakistan: It's Déjà Vu All Over Again," by Leonard Weiss
"Fun and Games with the NPT," by Linda Rothstein
"Robusterererer," by Jonas Siegel
"U.S. Nuclear Forces, 2004," by Robert S. Norris and Hans M. Kristensen
July/August
"A Slow Sort of Security," by Stephen I. Schwartz
"Nuclear Policy: France Stands Alone," by Bruno Tertrais
"Disposal in the Doldrums," by Jonas Siegel
"Russian Nuclear Forces, 2004," by Robert S. Norris and Hans M. Kristensen
September/October
"Mini-Nukes: Boom or Bust?" by Andy Oppenheimer
"Nanotech: Is Small Scary?" by Margaret Kosal
"No Plans for New Nukes Here!" by Bret Lortie
"U.S. Nuclear Reductions," by Robert S. Norris and Hans M. Kristensen
November/December
"Europe, Carry Your Weight," by Morten Bremer Mærli and Lars van Dassen
"Fissile Material: Stockpiles Still Growing," by David Albright and Kimberly Kramer
"Iran: Countdown to Showdown," by David Albright and Corey Hinderstein
"Homegrown Terror," by Michael Reynolds
"Taking Biodefense Too Far," by Susan Wright
"U.S. Nuclear Weapons in Europe, 1954-2004," by Robert S. Norris and Hans M. Kristensen
- Linda Rothstein
Sidebar: Child's play
Preparing for a chemical, biological, or nuclear attack is fast becoming a national pastime (see "The New Bunker Mentality," page 42). And one of the best ways to be prepared for the coming doom, according to government officials and security experts, is to have an emergency plan and survival kit. On this front, there is no shortage of options. (Even mogul Steven Brill extols the virtue of emergency kits as part of his new organization, the America Prepared Campaign.)
Most kits recommend similar goods--food, water, medical supplies, radio (and extra batteries), flashlight, can opener, and important documents--to help citizens survive disaster or attack. But the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) seems concerned with entertainment, too. FEMA suggests that children assemble a survival activity kit containing:
• A few favorite books
• Crayons, pencils, or marking pens and plenty of paper
• Scissors and glue
• Two favorite toys, such as a doll or action figure
• One or two board games
• A puzzle ("One with lots of pieces is good--it takes a long time to do!")
• Small figurines and play vehicles--an ambulance, fire truck, helicopter, dump truck, police car, or small boat--that kids can use to role play what is happening during the disaster
• Favorite stuffed animal or puppet
• Favorite blanket or pillow
• Pictures of the family and any pets
• A "keep safe" box with a few treasures that make them "feel special"
- Jonas Siegel
Sidebar: (Not) following the leaders
Government officials have told us time and again to be "ready" in case of a terrorist attack. But what if, in a terrorist attack, the government isn't ready for reality?
A new study from the New York Academy of Medicine's Center for the Advancement of Collaborative Strategies in Health says that "current plans have been created in a 'top-down' style, telling people what to do in the event of an attack without considering all of the risks and concerns that drive people's actions."
In other words, there's a planning gap between what officials want people to do and how people would actually react. The study found that only 40 percent of Americans would follow instructions to head to a public vaccination center if told to do so after terrorists caused a smallpox outbreak. If officials directed people to shelter-in-place in an undamaged building (not their home) after a nearby dirty bomb explosion, about 60 percent would.
"It's not that the rest of the people want to be uncooperative," lead investigator Roz Lasker said in a press release. "The problem is that current plans unwittingly put them in extremely difficult decision-making predicaments."
The problems stem from a difference between what emergency planners are trying to protect citizens from and what the citizens are seriously worried about. In a smallpox attack, planners want people to get vaccinated right away, but according to the study, more people would be concerned about the safety of the vaccine than about contracting smallpox. And in the event of a dirty bomb attack, when planners want people to stay in their workplaces, many people would rather leave to see to the safety of their kids or parents.
The findings, write the investigators, "are cause for worry because they suggest that current plans to deal with smallpox and dirty bomb attacks will be far less effective than planners want or the public deserves."
Sounds like the government should get ready.
-Catherine Auer
Linda Rothstein is editor, Catherine Auer managing editor, and Jonas Siegel assistant editor of the Bulletin.
Copyright © 2004 Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists.
