The specter of nuclear weapons, once the stuff of Cold War nightmares and Hollywood thrillers, is back at the center of global debate. Recent developments in international security, coupled with the release of Kathryn Bigelow’s gripping new film A House of Dynamite, have reignited conversations about the fragility of deterrence and the very real risks posed by nuclear proliferation in an increasingly unstable world.
On October 23, 2025, two seemingly disparate events converged to highlight the urgency of these concerns. First, a wave of analysis swept through policy circles as experts questioned the reliability of U.S. security guarantees under the unpredictable leadership of President Donald Trump. Second, Bigelow’s film hit theaters, immersing viewers in the harrowing realities of a nuclear crisis faced by a fictional U.S. president with just minutes to respond to an incoming missile threat. Together, these moments underscored a chilling truth: the threat of nuclear conflict, far from being a relic of the past, remains a pressing and deeply personal issue for nations and individuals alike.
According to Defence24, the current crisis in American leadership and the unstable stance of President Trump have left traditional U.S. allies questioning whether the old security guarantees still hold water. This uncertainty is not just theoretical. In Asia, both South Korea and Japan—longtime U.S. partners—are openly debating the once-taboo topic of acquiring their own nuclear arsenals. South Korea, faced with North Korea’s escalating provocations and deepening ties with Russia, has witnessed a surge in public support for a domestic nuclear program. While an April 2024 agreement between Seoul and Washington reaffirmed that any North Korean nuclear attack would trigger immediate bilateral consultations and a decisive alliance response, the very fact that nuclear armament is being discussed so widely marks a dramatic shift in regional security thinking.
Japan, too, is grappling with the question of whether its longstanding pacifist principles can withstand the realities of a neighborhood bristling with nuclear weapons. As The Japan Times recently put it, "In a region surrounded by nuclear-armed powers and struggling with escalating tensions over Taiwan and the Korean Peninsula, the question is no longer whether Japan should consider possessing nuclear weapons, but whether it can afford not to." While public support for a Japanese nuclear arsenal remains relatively low, high-level discussions about revisiting the 1967 "Three Non-Nuclear Principles"—which prohibit the production, possession, or introduction of nuclear weapons—signal a new willingness to reconsider the country’s traditional stance.
Artur Kacprzyk, a nuclear deterrence analyst at the Polish Institute of International Affairs, offered a sobering assessment of these trends. "The probability that additional countries will attempt to acquire such weapons is indeed growing, although this is not a foregone conclusion," Kacprzyk noted in an interview with Defence24. He emphasized that allies are still trying to maintain close ties with the U.S. while boosting their conventional forces. However, the risks of pursuing nuclear capabilities—including possible U.S. sanctions, international isolation, and even preemptive military strikes—remain formidable obstacles. "Attempts to acquire nuclear weapons would involve various risks and challenges, even for states with significant civilian-military capacity to develop such a capability," Kacprzyk explained. "A state that began an official path toward acquiring nuclear weapons would have to reckon with the risk of preemptive strikes by an adversary aimed at stopping nuclear programs."
Despite the spread of nuclear know-how over the decades, Kacprzyk argued that developing a viable arsenal may be harder than ever. Improved global detection capabilities, robust legal barriers like the 1970 Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (NPT), and the threat of cyber or kinetic strikes on emerging programs all complicate the task. "Legal regimes that make it harder to obtain materials and equipment that could be used to produce nuclear warheads have been gradually strengthened," he said, highlighting the international community’s ongoing efforts to prevent proliferation.
But even for those who succeed in building nuclear weapons, the effectiveness of deterrence is far from guaranteed. "Acquiring nuclear weapons substantially increases the credibility of deterrence, but by itself does not guarantee its effectiveness; much depends on what exactly is meant to be deterred and with what capabilities," Kacprzyk observed. Drawing on the example of India and Pakistan, he pointed out that while nuclear arsenals may deter large-scale aggression, they have not prevented smaller conflicts or provocations. "In such cases a nuclear response would be far too disproportionate and frequently carry a high risk of escalation for the defending state." Moreover, the size of the arsenal matters: "It should be large enough that part of it could survive enemy strikes and still be capable of penetrating an opponent’s defenses and inflicting serious damage… Simply acquiring a small number of nuclear warheads may therefore not be sufficient for effective deterrence, especially if we are talking about an adversary with as large an offensive and defensive potential as Russia."
The implications of these debates extend well beyond Asia. Within NATO, the 2022 Strategic Concept marked a significant shift, placing equal emphasis on collective defense and deterrence—including nuclear deterrence. The United States remains the cornerstone of NATO’s nuclear umbrella, but European allies are increasingly looking to France and the United Kingdom for additional protection. As Kacprzyk summarized, "European NATO countries will try to maintain the best possible relations with the U.S., while simultaneously increasing their conventional capabilities and seeking greater protection from the nuclear arsenals of France and the United Kingdom. These arsenals are much smaller and less credible in protecting allies than the American capability, but they can also help deter Russia."
Against this backdrop of shifting alliances and escalating risks, Bigelow’s A House of Dynamite delivers a jolt of cinematic realism. The film’s plot centers on a fictional U.S. president who has less than 20 minutes to respond to an unidentified intercontinental ballistic missile—an agonizingly short window that mirrors the real-world timelines military leaders face. Screenwriter Noah Oppenheim underscores the urgency: "Military response times are under 20 minutes for missiles launched from the Pacific and 10 to 12 minutes for launches from Atlantic submarines." The film’s tension is heightened by its focus on the human element—how even the most well-trained personnel can falter under unimaginable stress. As the filmmakers point out, annual rehearsals can never fully prepare individuals for the chaos and emotional strain of an actual crisis.
National security experts consulted for the film echo the real-world anxieties. Tom Nichols, a prominent writer on nuclear policy, notes that while the United States and some allies have reduced their arsenals, countries like China, India, and Pakistan are moving in the opposite direction. This uneven growth in nuclear capabilities is contributing to a more complex and dangerous global security environment.
Bigelow’s film is more than just a thriller—it’s a call to action. Oppenheim hopes that A House of Dynamite will "spark conversations about nuclear policy and public awareness," reminding viewers that the threat of nuclear conflict is neither distant nor abstract. In fact, the latest figures from the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) reveal that as of January 2025, the world’s nuclear stockpile stands at 12,241 warheads, with nine nuclear-armed states collectively increasing their arsenals. Of the 193 United Nations member states, 178 have ratified the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty (CTBT), but the era of post-Cold War reductions may be ending.
In a world where the unthinkable is becoming thinkable again, the message from policymakers and filmmakers alike is clear: complacency is not an option. The risks are real, the timelines are short, and the consequences—should deterrence fail—are almost too terrible to imagine.
