On November 19, 2025, a pair of articles published by National Security Journal and The Bulletin brought into sharp focus two of the most urgent challenges facing the world today: the rising risk of nuclear conflict and the mounting threat posed by misinformation during crises. As global tensions escalate, especially around hotspots like Taiwan, and as disasters—both natural and human-made—become increasingly visible and politicized, the intersection of nuclear risk and information chaos has emerged as a defining vulnerability of our era.
Japan’s new prime minister, Sanae Takaichi, made headlines this week by breaking with decades of diplomatic ambiguity, openly warning that a Chinese attack on Taiwan would directly threaten Japan’s security. According to National Security Journal, Takaichi’s statement signals a seismic shift in regional policy and pulls long-running assumptions into the open: any war over Taiwan would almost certainly draw in neighboring countries and risk spiraling into a wider, potentially nuclear, conflict. “Japan appears to be shedding its strategic ambiguity regarding Taiwan because of rising talk—not refuted by China—that China might attack Taiwan sometime in the next decade,” the article notes, underscoring the gravity of the moment.
Behind these warnings lies a deeper fear: that nuclear weapons, far from guaranteeing peace, could either restrain or dangerously escalate a conflict. Dr. Robert Kelly, a professor at Pusan National University and author of the National Security Journal analysis, draws on historical precedents such as the Cold War and the India–Pakistan standoff to argue that Taiwan could become the ultimate test of whether “nuclear peace” holds in the 21st century. “Nuclear escalation—even its potential—is so terrifying that it dissuades aggressors from taking large chances,” Kelly writes, referencing the concept of ‘nuclear peace’—the idea that the mere existence of nuclear weapons deters reckless action.
Yet, as the Russo-Ukrainian conflict drags on and as China’s military power grows, the old logic of nuclear deterrence faces new stress tests. The article points out that Taiwan’s vulnerability—greater than Ukraine’s, given its geography and the relative strength of China—means that U.S. decisions about nuclear escalation would be even more pressured and complex should a crisis erupt. “The pressure on the US to consider nuclear escalation—to compensate for Taiwan’s greater vulnerability—would be greater,” Kelly observes, adding that the risk of inadvertent escalation, where defensive strikes are misread as preemptive attacks on nuclear arsenals, remains a persistent nightmare scenario.
If the logic of ‘nuclear peace’ holds, these fears may act as a brake on all sides, keeping even the most aggressive leaders from pushing too far. But if it fails, the consequences could be catastrophic—not just for the region, but for the world.
Complicating matters even further is the rapidly changing information environment in which these crises would unfold. As Andrew Facini details in his November 19 article for The Bulletin, the ability to communicate truth in the midst of disaster has never been more precarious. From the 2020 Beirut explosion to the devastating floods of Hurricane Helene in 2024, and the 8.8 magnitude Kamchatka earthquake in July 2025, recent years have been marked by the swift spread of misinformation and conspiracy theories on social media and AI-driven platforms. “These false claims were massively advantaged over factual reporting on social media, undermining public trust and causing additional challenges for local officials,” Facini writes, citing the arrest of a man who threatened FEMA workers as a direct result of such confusion during Hurricane Helene.
This isn’t just a problem of public relations; it’s a national security vulnerability. As Facini warns, “If a country’s overall resilience can be measured by its ability to respond to hostile acts, it depends to a large degree on its ability to quickly reach its people with critical, reliable information.” In today’s fragmented media landscape, where outrage and engagement are often prioritized over accuracy, even the most authoritative sources struggle to cut through the noise. The situation becomes even more dire in the context of nuclear crisis, where every second counts and every miscommunication can have world-altering consequences.
The past year has seen a worrying uptick in nuclear risks. In May, direct conflict between nuclear-armed India and Pakistan reached a new high-water mark. June saw war break out between nuclear-armed Israel and nuclear-aspirant Iran, drawing the United States into direct strikes. Meanwhile, Russia’s ongoing war against Ukraine—now in its fourth year—continues to cast a long nuclear shadow over Europe. Each of these crises has prompted policymakers to revisit the calculus of nuclear deterrence, and some U.S. allies are now openly considering independent nuclear capabilities, a sign of eroding confidence in traditional security structures.
In such an environment, the prospect of a limited “tactical” nuclear strike looms large. As Facini explains, the immediate aftermath of such an event would plunge governments into a desperate phase of crisis management, where manipulated information environments could be weaponized by adversaries. “Like the Beirut explosion, a single tactical nuclear strike may present a shocking disaster scene which can be documented and shared—and potentially distorted—by reporters and witnesses,” he notes. AI-driven summaries and social media algorithms, already prone to hallucination and bias, could further muddy the waters, making it even harder for leaders and the public to discern fact from fiction.
The risks are not merely theoretical. In the aftermath of the Beirut explosion, then-President Donald Trump’s off-the-cuff remark that it was “a bomb of some kind” set off a wave of conspiracy theories and forced U.S. officials to scramble to clarify the facts. As Facini asks, “What if the stakes were much higher, and the timeline for interpreting and deploying responses much shorter?” In a nuclear crisis, such confusion could prove fatal.
To address these challenges, Facini offers three urgent recommendations: build up resistance to misinformation through media literacy; develop common-sense guidelines for social media platforms during crises, including a transparent “disaster response” mode; and raise public understanding of nuclear risks to reaffirm the catastrophic consequences of any nuclear use. While these steps alone cannot eliminate the dangers, they can help shore up resilience and buy precious time in the next crisis, whether natural or human-made.
As the world stands at the intersection of rising nuclear tensions and a deeply flawed information ecosystem, the stakes could hardly be higher. The ability of governments and individuals to navigate these twin threats will determine not just the outcome of the next crisis, but the future of global security itself.
