Since the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945, nuclear weapons have cast a long and terrifying shadow over global security. The world has lived for decades with the knowledge that a single modern warhead could obliterate a city in an instant, causing hundreds of thousands of deaths and unleashing devastation unlike anything else in human history. Today, more than 12,000 nuclear warheads are distributed among nine countries, according to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI), with the United States and Russia alone accounting for nearly 90% of that arsenal.
Despite the existential threat these weapons pose, efforts to achieve global nuclear disarmament have repeatedly stalled. The most recent flashpoint came last week in Alaska, where Presidents Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump met to discuss, among other issues, the possibility of renewed nuclear disarmament between their two countries. Both leaders called for China to join the talks, a move that immediately drew a firm response from Beijing.
Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesman Guo Jiakun did not mince words, declaring participation in such trilateral negotiations "unreasonable and unrealistic." As reported by Atalayar, Guo stressed that China’s nuclear arsenal is dwarfed by those of the US and Russia, and that the nuclear policies of the superpowers are "totally contrary to that of China." He added, "China will not agree to enter into or take part in any arms race with any country." For Beijing, the onus for disarmament lies squarely with Washington and Moscow, whose combined stockpiles—5,580 in the US and 5,040 in Russia, as of August 28, 2025—far outstrip China’s estimated 500 warheads.
This response came as no surprise in Washington, but it landed with more force in the Kremlin, where Russian officials have long sought to broaden the scope of arms control talks. Former President Donald Trump, echoing concerns about China’s growing global influence, insisted in a meeting with South Korean President Lee Jae-Sung that Beijing must be included in any denuclearization dialogue. Yet, as Guo pointed out, China has consistently maintained a nuclear policy of "no first use" and insists its arsenal is for self-defense only. Unlike the US and Russia, Beijing says it will not initiate the use of nuclear weapons under any circumstances.
The complexities of nuclear disarmament go far beyond the numbers, though. The doctrine of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD), which kept the peace during the Cold War by promising total annihilation in the event of a nuclear exchange, relies on the assumption that all actors are rational and deterrable. But as The Nation notes, this assumption crumbles when faced with the threat of nuclear terrorism. Groups willing to sacrifice themselves cannot be deterred by the prospect of retaliation. Henry Kissinger once observed that MAD "doesn’t operate in any comparable way" in a world of suicide bombers, and former Secretary of State George Shultz added that such actors are "almost by definition not deterrable."
The risk of nuclear materials falling into the hands of non-state actors is real and growing. As long as nuclear arsenals exist, there is a chance—however small—of theft, sale, or accidental launch. History is "replete with close calls," including the 1983 Soviet false alarm and the 1979 NORAD computer glitch, both of which nearly triggered catastrophic consequences. The world’s safety, as The Nation argues, currently depends on "perpetual restraint and sheer good fortune."
Efforts to rein in nuclear proliferation began in earnest with the 1970 Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT), which sought to prevent the spread of nuclear weapons while committing recognized nuclear-armed states to eventual disarmament. Yet, decades later, the major powers are modernizing rather than dismantling their arsenals, and new players have emerged outside the treaty framework. India, Pakistan, North Korea, and, presumably, Israel (which has never officially confirmed its nuclear status) have all developed nuclear capabilities. This fractured landscape raises fears of a "nuclear tipping point," where regional arms races and new entrants could dramatically increase the risk of conflict.
Against this backdrop, the 2017 Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW) marked a watershed moment. Entering into force in 2021 and signed by nearly 100 non-nuclear countries, it reflects a growing international consensus that "nuclear weapons have no place in the modern world." As the International Rescue Committee (IRC) put it, "there is no such thing as responsible possession of nuclear weapons." The humanitarian consequences of any nuclear exchange—mass, indiscriminate killing, radiation, genetic damage, and environmental ruin—are simply too great to justify continued reliance on these weapons.
Yet, the path to a nuclear-weapon-free world is riddled with obstacles. Skeptics argue that nuclear deterrence has prevented great-power wars, pointing to the absence of direct conflict between the US and Soviet Union during the Cold War. They worry that removing this deterrent could invite aggression. Others note the formidable verification challenges of any ban, fearing that a rogue actor could secretly retain or build weapons and gain a "nuclear blackmail power."
Proponents of disarmament counter that the risks of continued possession far outweigh the supposed benefits. As The Nation points out, the world avoided nuclear war during the Cuban Missile Crisis "despite them," not because of them. Verification, while difficult, is not impossible; the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) already conducts rigorous inspections, and technical advances from past arms reduction treaties provide a foundation for even more robust monitoring. The knowledge to build nuclear weapons cannot be erased, but stockpiles and production facilities can be dismantled and fissile materials secured or repurposed for peaceful uses.
For many non-nuclear states, the current system represents a "double standard." They see a world where some countries claim the right to possess nuclear weapons indefinitely while denying them to others—a situation that breeds resentment and undermines trust. The Middle East offers a glaring example: Israel is widely believed to possess nuclear weapons outside the NPT, while international efforts focus on preventing Iran, an NPT signatory, from acquiring them. As the International Physicians for the Prevention of Nuclear War noted, "the hypocrisy of the situation regarding nuclear weapons is completely unacceptable."
Still, there are glimmers of hope. The Malaysian Prime Minister recently voiced support for total disarmament in Southeast Asia, signaling regional willingness to move forward if the US and Russia take concrete steps. Proponents argue that disarmament must be gradual, cooperative, and rigorously verified, with alternative security arrangements—such as strengthened conventional forces and binding alliance commitments—replacing the so-called nuclear umbrella.
Ultimately, as Cold War veterans in the documentary Nuclear Tipping Point warned, the choice is stark: eliminate these weapons or face eventual disaster. The status quo—relying on luck, rationality, and hair-trigger arsenals—is not a sustainable long-term solution. If thousands of nuclear warheads remain on alert, "it is less a question of if they will be used again, but when." The world stands at a crossroads, and the decisions made in the coming years will determine whether humanity finally steps back from the nuclear brink—or stumbles over it.