The conclusion that ‘nuclear weapons have no future’ is built upon a historical, political, and strategic reflection on the nature of war, the evolution of military technology, and the legacy of the Cold War. The text opens by challenging the myth of a peaceful past, emphasizing that war has always existed, and even the most advanced technologies—like steel, gunpowder, or aircraft—have never granted one side absolute dominance, as they were eventually balanced or countered.

However, nuclear weapons mark a turning point in warfare. They are uniquely destructive and difficult to defend against, making their actual use implausible because of the guaranteed reciprocal devastation. This introduces a paradox: nuclear weapons are too powerful to be practically used, and their existence undermines the notion of strategic warfare. This idea is underscored by Philip Larkin’s poem MCMXIV, which mourns the loss of innocence before World War I—paralleling the irreversible moral and political changes wrought by the nuclear age.

During the early Cold War, nuclear weapons were perceived by the U.S. as an extension of conventional power, relying on doctrines like “massive retaliation.” Yet as the Soviet Union reached nuclear parity, the realization set in that any use of these weapons would ensure mutual destruction. Despite this awareness, the policy approaches lacked strategic depth, failing to engage sufficiently with the political realities and motivations of the Soviet Union. Mutual distrust dominated, despite the fact that both sides were constrained by similar factors—budgets, domestic politics, and the military-industrial complex.

Historical decisions, such as George Kennan’s 1946 “Long Telegram,” which claimed the USSR was inherently opposed to peaceful coexistence with the West, deeply shaped U.S. foreign policy. However, the reverse also held true—Western powers equally doubted the possibility of coexisting with a powerful Soviet state. While leadership changes in the Soviet Union occasionally presented opportunities for better relations, such as under Khrushchev, these were rarely seized due to entrenched suspicion and strategic inertia.

The Cold War era was dominated by nuclear brinkmanship, yet true strategy—based on understanding and engaging with diverse political systems—was often lacking. The overarching goal of peace was continually overshadowed by militarized deterrence. Even today, deterrence is not a strategy in itself, but a component of one. Real strategy involves constant diplomacy, trust-building, and broad-based international engagement, not just military strength.

The possibility of nuclear conflict today remains grim. A war between two major nuclear powers like the U.S. and Russia or China would be catastrophic and globally isolating. Smaller scenarios—such as a nuclear-armed minor power attacking a major one—would also result in devastating retaliation and international fallout. Tactical nuclear weapons, though more likely to be used in theory, still carry the same risks and political consequences as strategic ones.

Nuclear weapons persist more out of inertia than necessity. Like constitutional reform, disarmament faces resistance from multiple entrenched interests. However, nuclear weapons fail to fulfil any rational political objective; they cannot bring about a durable peace and, instead, escalate insecurity. Rather than adhering to the old maxim, ‘If you want peace, prepare for war’, a more constructive approach would be: “If you want peace, prepare for and promote peace.” Ultimately, nuclear weapons are incompatible with a just and peaceful world order.