Existential in approach, the book begins with Soviet submarine Captain Vasily Arkhipov's decision to rescind an order to fire a nuclear armed torpedo at the U.S. fleet blockading Cuba. The world stood 30 seconds away from self-destruction. After all the machinations of political and military leaders since Hiroshima, every move and countermove on the global chessboard, it all came down to one person's refusal.
Sherwin suggests it was pure luck that prevented a nuclear holocaust in October of 1962, and not the cautious maneuverings of JFK nor the latent humanism of Khruschev. While each leader held the hardliners in their inner circles in check, during the fateful final days of the crisis things were starting to spiral beyond their control.
Sherwin relates the glee of President Truman at the Potsdam Conference when he learned of the successful Alamogordo test of the atomic bomb. As one of his cabinet officials observed, the U.S. now held a royal flush. Many in the national security apparatus believed the bomb gave America overwhelming leverage over the Soviets. The atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were, in part, a warning to the Soviets. But things did not go as planned. The Soviets began their own crash program to build their own bomb, experts in America estimated it would take them 20 years, but it only took four. It was short-sighted to believe the nuclear monopoly would last decades.
In the immediate aftermath of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the Truman administration debated whether to share atomic technology with the Soviets as a sign of good faith to their war ally, as outgoing Secretary of War Henry Stimson told Truman, the weapon was "a first step in a new control by man over the forces of nature too revolutionary and dangerous to fit into old concepts." (67). From the Soviet perspective, decimated by their war with Germany and knowing their new geopolitical rival had a superweapon, the situation looked bleak. The Soviet paranoia is understandable with a thought experiment on how America would react in a similar situation.
Imagine if China or India made a breakthrough in AI, like a massive missile shield to protect against any attack. Or a cyberwar system that could disarm all the nuclear weapons of their adversaries. How would other nations react in a world where deterrence has broken down? In America there would be panic and finger pointing, a major readjustment of priorities. Whether a nation would reveal such a game-changing breakthrough is separate question. In a world where post-war diplomatic norms are eroding, one can only imagine mass chaos and confusion.
A lesson from 1945 is that any major technical advance will destabilize, inflame paranoia, and foster distrust. The psychological vulnerability that comes with geopolitical or technological shocks is a factor that is hard to quantify. As we see every day, the effect of technology on human psyche is rarely considered by the tech giants (or maybe they do, which is even more nefarious).
H.G. Wells observed civilization is in a race between education and catastrophe. At a moment when the purpose of education itself is being questioned, that observation feels newly relevant. The shocks are not going away. Preparing for them - psychologically and morally - may be the central challenge of this century. The humanities can provide guidance - if we choose to keep them.

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