Posts Tagged ‘2010s’


Obama visits Hiroshima

Friday, May 27th, 2016

The big nuclear news this week was President Obama's visit to Hiroshima. Obama is the first sitting-President to visit the city (Carter and Nixon visited it after their terms were up). The speech he gave is more or less what I thought he was going to say: a short discussion (with heavy reliance on passive voice) on the bombings (they just sort of happened, right?), a vague call to make a world without nuclear weapons and war, a invocation of a lot of standard nuclear age stereotypes (humanity destroying itself, needing to be smart in ways that are not just about making weapons, etc.).

I'm not criticizing the speech — it's fine, for what it is. There is nothing that the President could really say that would be enormously satisfying, no matter what your position on nuclear weapons is, or what your position is on him as a President. He wasn't going to apologize for the bombings, he wasn't going to justify the bombings, he isn't going to make nuclear weapons (or war) disappear overnight. Such are the realities of our present political discourse and state of the world. I think it's a good thing that he went. The speech is an exercise in compassion and empathy. That's never a bad thing. The one thing I would press him on, if I got to do so: he uses the word "we" a lot (e.g., "How easily we learn to justify violence in the name of some higher cause"). Who is this "we"? Is it a narrow "we," a national "we," a human "we"? I think the latter — but the danger of using that inclusive a "we" is that it assigns no real responsibility. If he wants the things that he says he does, he needs to narrow down the "we" a bit, to start talking about who, specifically, is going to accomplish those things.

What Presidents Talk About When the Talk About Hiroshima - Screenshot

I was asked if I would write something with a historical slant on it about his visit. It is now up at the New Yorker's website: "What Presidents Talk about When the Talk About Hiroshima." I went over every public discussion of Hiroshima or Nagasaki that I could find from US Presidents. By and large, they don't talk about them much, or if they do, it's in a very brief and often vague context. Ronald Reagan actually gave an address on its anniversary in 1985 but managed to say really nothing about it; a year later he invoked Hiroshima in defense of the Strategic Defense Initiative. In his farewell address, Jimmy Carter invoked Hiroshima in a rather generic way to talk about the specter of nuclear war. And so on.1

The only two Presidents who spilled much ink on the topic of the history, perhaps not surprisingly, were the two who had the most proximity to the event (aside from Roosevelt, of course, who died before the atomic bomb was non-secret, and left very little record as to his thoughts about its possible use before his death), Harry Truman and Dwight Eisenhower. It's an interesting pairing in that Truman was, as one would expect, very much interested in making sure the historical record saw his work as justified. He, along with Henry Stimson and Leslie Groves took part in an active campaign to push a specific version of the story, namely the "decision to use the bomb" narrative (in which Truman deliberated and weighed the decision and decided to order the bombing). This version of things is pretty universally rejected by historians today — it just isn't what happened. There was no single decision to use the bomb, there was no real debate over whether it should be used, and Truman wasn't that central to any of it. It's a retrospective narrative made to streamline the issues (e.g. "bomb or invade," which makes bombing look like the only acceptable answer and obscures any possibility of alternatives), and reinforce a postwar notion about the responsibility of the President (e.g. the bombing as a political decision, not a military one). One can still support the use of the bombs without subscribing to this particular version of the story.

The "Atomic Bomb Dome," before and after the bombing of Hiroshima. I find this particular picture very striking, because without the "before," the extent of the "after" is hard to make sense of. More of these on-the-ground before-and-after photos here, along with the source.

The "Atomic Bomb Dome," before and after the bombing of Hiroshima. I find this particular picture very striking, because without the "before," the extent of the "after" is hard to make sense of. More of these on-the-ground before-and-after photos can be found here, along with the source information.

Eisenhower's views for many will be the more surprising of the two. At various points both before and after (but not during) his Presidency he published some very strongly-worded statements implying that the bombings were morally wrong, unnecessary, and that he had objected to them. These are often marshaled by historians today who want to argue that the bombings weren't necessary. The thing is, this narrative is really flawed as well. Barton Bernstein did a compelling job (decades ago) in demonstrating that there is no real evidence for Eisenhower's later accounts of his dissent, and that it is pretty unlikely that things happened the way Eisenhower said they did.2

Today I think we can read Eisenhower's feelings on the bomb through the lens of how the postwar military viewed the public perception of the atomic bomb having "ended the war" — they were being robbed of the credit for all of the difficult (and destructive) work the conventional forces did. Eisenhower himself is a wonderfully complex figure, with lots of paradoxical positions on nuclear weapons. The nuclear arsenal grew to astounding heights under his watch, the weapons moved into military custody, and the raw megatonnage became frankly incredible (in 1960, the US arsenal had nearly 20,500 megatons worth of weapons in it — some 1.3 million Hiroshima equivalents). Yet he also acutely understood that nuclear war would be disastrous and terrible, and he sought ways out of the nuclear bind (Atoms for Peace being his most notable program in this respect, whatever one thinks of its success). Eisenhower at times felt hemmed-in by his times and context, as his famous farewell address makes quite clear.

The fact that both Truman and Eisenhower had stakes in making their arguments doesn't mean that their views of history should just be discounted, but neither does their proximity to the event mean their views should get elevated epistemic status (they aren't necessarily true — and we don't have to get into whether they were misremembered, were being misleading, etc.). Everyone involved in the end of war had some stakes in thinking one way or another about the role and necessity of the atomic bombs.

I like using Eisenhower's views (and the other views I mention in the New Yorker piece, like the US Strategic Bombing Survey) not because I think they are correct (my views on the bombings are more complicated than can be described with with "for" or "against" arguments), but because they illustrate that the idea that the bombings weren't the be-all and end-all of the war is not just a late-Cold War lefty "revisionist" notion. They also point (as I indicate at the end of the New Yorker piece) to the fact that our present-day American political mapping of opinions about the atomic bombings (conservatives in favor, liberals opposed) is not how they were viewed at the time. This helps, I think, to get us out of the trap of thinking that our opinions about these historical events necessarily have to be derived from our present-day politics. The politics of the late 1940s are not the politics of today. If we are serious about the study of history (and I am), we should not expect everything about the past to line up with what we think about the world in the 21st century.

  1. Side-note: In 1983, Reagan visited Japan and said he wished he had time to visit Hiroshima and Nagasaki, among other cities. This was remarked-upon by the reporters attending, but there was no follow-up. []
  2. Barton Bernstein, "Ike and Hiroshima: Did he oppose it?," Journal of Strategic Studies 10, no. 3 (1987), 377-389. []

Silhouettes of the bomb

Friday, April 22nd, 2016

You might think of the explosive part of a nuclear weapon as the "weapon" or "bomb," but in the technical literature it has its own kind of amusingly euphemistic name: the "physics package." This is the part of the bomb where the "physics" happens -- which is to say, where the atoms undergo fission and/or fusion and release energy measured in the tons of TNT equivalent.

Drawing a line between that part of the weapon and the rest of it is, of course, a little arbitrary. External fuzes and bomb fins are not usually considered part of the physics package (the fuzes are part of the "arming, fuzing, and firing" system, in today's parlance), but they're of course crucial to the operation of the weapon. We don't usually consider the warhead and the rocket propellant to be exactly the same thing, but they both have to work if the weapon is going to work. I suspect there are many situations where the line between the "physics package" and the rest of the weapon is a little blurry. But, in general, the distinction seems to be useful for the weapons designers, because it lets them compartmentalize out concerns or responsibilities with regards to use and upkeep.

Physics package silhouettes of some of the early nuclear weapon variants. The Little Boy (Mk-1) and Fat Man (Mk-3) are based on the work of John Coster-Mullen. All silhouette portraits are by me — some are a little impressionistic. None are to any kind of consistent scale.

The shape of nuclear weapons was from the beginning one of the most secret aspects about them. The casing shapes of the Little Boy and Fat Man bombs were not declassified until 1960. This was only partially because of concerns about actual weapons secrets -- by the 1950s, the fact that Little Boy was a gun-type weapon and Fat Man was an implosion weapon, and their rough sizes and weights, were well-known. They appear to have been kept secret for so long in part because the US didn't want to draw too much attention to the bombing of the cities, in part because we didn't want to annoy or alienate the Japanese.

But these shapes can be quite suggestive. The shapes and sizes put limits on what might be going on inside the weapon, and how it might be arranged. If one could have seen, in the 1940s, the casings of Fat Man and Little Boy, one could pretty easily conjecture about their function. Little Boy definitely has the appearance of a gun-type weapon (long and relatively thin), whereas Fat Man clearly has something else going on with it. If all you knew was that one bomb was much larger and physically rounder than the other, you could probably, if you were a clever weapons scientist, deduce that implosion was probably going on. Especially if you were able to see under the ballistic casing itself, with all of those conspicuously-placed wires.

In recent years we have become rather accustomed to seeing pictures of retired weapons systems and their physics packages. Most of them are quite boring, a variation on a few themes. You have the long-barrels that look like gun-type designs. You have the spheres or spheres-with-flat ends that look like improved implosion weapons. And you then have the bullet-shaped sphere-attached-to-a-cylinder that seems indicative of the Teller-Ulam design for thermonuclear weapons.

Silhouettes of compact thermonuclear warheads. Are the round ends fission components, or spherical fusion components? Things the nuke-nerds ponder.

There are a few strange things in this category, that suggest other designs. (And, of course, we don't have to rely on just shapes here -- we have other documentation that tells us about how these might work.) There is a whole class of tactical fission weapons that seem shaped like narrow cylinders, but aren't gun-type weapons. These are assumed to be some form of "linear implosion," which somewhat bridges the gap between implosion and gun-type designs.

All of this came to mind recently for two reasons. One was the North Korean photos that went around a few weeks ago of Kim Jong-un and what appears to be some kind of component to a ballistic case for a miniaturized nuclear warhead. I don't think the photos tell us very much, even if we assume they are not completely faked (and with North Korea, you never know). If the weapon casing is legit, it looks like a fairly compact implosion weapon without a secondary stage (this doesn't mean it can't have some thermonuclear component, but it puts limits on how energetic it can probably be). Which is kind of interesting in and of itself, especially since it's not every day that you get to see even putative physics packages of new nuclear nations.

Stockpile milestones chart from Pantex's website. Lots of interesting little shapes.

Stockpile milestones chart from Pantex's website. Lots of interesting little shapes.

The other reason it came to mind is a chart I ran across on Pantex's website. Pantex was more or less a nuclear-weapons assembly factory during the Cold War, and is now a disassembly factory. The chart is a variation on one that has been used within the weapons labs for a few years now, my friend and fellow-nuclear-wonk Stephen Schwartz pointed out on Twitter, and shows the basic outlines of various nuclear weapons systems through the years. (Here is a more up-to-date one from the a 2015 NNSA presentation, but the image has more compression and is thus a bit harder to see.)

For gravity bombs, they tend to show the shape of the ballistic cases. For missile warheads, and more exotic weapons (like the "Special Atomic Demolition Munitions," basically nuclear land mines — is the "Special" designation really necessary?), they often show the physics package. And some of these physics packages are pretty weird-looking.

Some of the weirder and more suggestive shapes in the chart. The W30 is a nuclear land mine; the W52 is a compact thermonuclear warhead; the W54 is the warhead for the Davy Crockett system, and the W66 is low-yield thermonuclear weapon used on the Sprint missile system.

A few that jump out as especially odd:

  • PowerPoint Presentation

    Is the fill error meaningful, or just a mistake? Can one read too much into a few blurred pixels?

    In the Pantex version (but not the others), the W59 is particular in that it has an incorrectly-filled circle at the bottom of it. I wonder if this is an artifact of the vectorization process that went into making these graphics, and a little more indication of the positioning of things than was intended.

  • The W52 has a strange appearance. It's not clear to me what's going on there.
  • The silhouette of the W30 is a curious one ("worst Tetris piece ever" quipped someone on Twitter), though it is of an "Atomic Demolition Munition" and likely just shows some of the peripheral equipment to the warhead.
  • The extreme distance between the spherical end (primary?) and the cylindrical end (secondary?) of the W-50 is pretty interesting.
  • The W66 warhead is really strange — a sphere with two cylinders coming out of it. Could it be a "double-gun," a gun-type weapon that decreases the distance necessary to travel by launching two projectiles at once? Probably not, given that it was supposed to have been thermonuclear, but it was an unusual warhead (very low-yield thermonuclear) so who knows what the geometry is.

There are also a number of warheads whose physics packages have never been shown, so far as I know. The W76, W87, and W88, for example, are primarily shown as re-entry vehicles (the "dunce caps of the nuclear age" as I seem to recall reading somewhere). The W76 has two interesting representations floating around, one that gives no real feedback on the size/shape of the physics package but gives an indication of its top and bottom extremities relative to other hardware in the warhead, another that portrays a very thin physics package that I doubt is actually representational (because if they had a lot of extra space, I think they'd have used it).1

Some of the more simple shapes — triangles, rectangles, and squares, oh my!

Some of the more simple shapes — triangles, rectangles, and squares, oh my!

What I find interesting about these secret shapes is that on the one hand, it's somewhat easy to understand, I suppose, the reluctance to declassify them. What's the overriding public interest for knowing what shape a warhead is? It's a hard argument to make. It isn't going to change how to vote or how we fund weapons or anything else. And one can see the reasons for keeping them classified -- the shapes can be revealing, and these warheads likely use many little tricks that allow them to put that much bang into so compact a package.

On the other hand, there is something to the idea, I think, that it's hard to take something seriously if you can't see it. Does keeping even the shape of the bomb out of public domain impact participatory democracy in ever so small a way? Does it make people less likely to treat these weapons as real objects in the world, instead of as metaphors for the end of the world? Well, I don't know. It does make these warheads seem a bit more out of reach than the others. Is that a compelling reason to declassify their shapes? Probably not.

As someone on the "wrong side" of the security fence, I do feel compelled to search for these unknown shapes — a defiant compulsion to see what I am not supposed to see, perhaps, in an act of petty rebellion. I suspect they look pretty boring — how different in appearance from, say, the W80 can they be? — but the act of denial makes them inherently interesting.

  1. One amusing thing is that several sites seem to have posted pictures of the arming, fuzing, and firing systems of these warheads under the confusion that these were the warheads. They are clearly not -- they are not only too small in their proportions, but they match up exactly to declassified photos of the AF&F systems (they are fuzes/radars, not physics packages). []

My conversation on secrecy with a Super Spook

Friday, March 18th, 2016

One of the unexpected things that popped up on my agenda this last week: I was asked to give a private talk to General Michael Hayden, the former director of the National Security Agency (1999-2005), and the Central Intelligence Agency (2006-2009). Hayden was at the Stevens Institute of Technology (where I work) giving a talk in the President's Distinguished Lecture Series, and as with all such things, part of the schedule was to have him get a glimpse of the kinds of things we are up to at Stevens that he might find interesting.

The group that met with General Michael Hayden last Wednesday. Hayden is second from left at the far side of the table. The President of Stevens, Nariman Farvardin, is nearest to the camera. I am at the table, at the back. All photos by Jeffrey Vock photography, for Stevens.

The group that met with General Michael Hayden last Wednesday. Hayden is second from left at the far side of the table. The President of Stevens, Nariman Farvardin, is nearest to the camera. I am at the table, at the back. All photos by Jeffrey Vock photography, for Stevens.

What was strange, for me, was that I was being included as one of those things. I am sure some of my readers and friends will say, "oh, of course they wanted you there," but I am still a pretty small fry over here, an assistant professor in the humanities division of an engineering school. The other people who gave talks either ran large laboratories or departments with obvious connections to the kinds of things Hayden was doing (e.g., in part because of its proximity to the Hudson River, Stevens does a lot of very cutting-edge work in monitoring boat and aerial vehicle traffic, and its Computer Science department does a huge amount of work in cybersecurity). That a junior historian of science would be invited to sit "at the table" with the General, the President of the Institute, and a handful of other Very Important People is not at all obvious, so I was surprised and grateful for the opportunity.

So what does the historian of secrecy say to one of the "Super Spooks," as my colleague, the science writer (and critic of US hegemony and war) John Horgan, dubbed Hayden? I pitched two different topics to the Stevens admin — one was a talk about what the history of secrecy might tell us about the way in which secrecy should be talked about and secrecy reform should be attempted (something I've been thinking about and working on for some time, a policy-relevant distillation of my historical research), the other was a discussion of NUKEMAP user patterns (which countries bomb who, using a dataset of millions of virtual "detonations" from 2013-2016).1 They opted for the first one, which surprised me a little bit, since it was a lot less numbers-driven and outward-facing than the NUKEMAP talk.

Yours truly. As you will notice, there was a lot of great gesturing going on all around while I was talking. I am sure a primatologist could make something out of this.

Yours truly. As you will notice, there was a lot of great gesturing going on all around while I was talking. I am sure a primatologist could make something out of this.

The talk I pitched to the General covered a few distinct points. First, I felt I needed to quickly define what Science and Technology Studies (STS) was, as that is the program I was representing, and it is not extremely well-known discipline outside of academia. (The sub-head was, "AKA, Why should anyone care what a historian of science thinks about secrecy?") Now those who practice STS know that there have been quite a few disciplinary battles of what STS is meant to be, but I gave the basic overview: STS is an interdisciplinary approach by humanists and social scientists that studies science and technology and their interactions with society. STS is sort of an umbrella-discipline that blends the history, philosophy, sociology, and anthropology of science and technology, but also is influenced, at times, by things like the study of psychology, political science, and law, among many other things. It is generally empirical (but not always), usually qualitative, but sometimes quantitative in its approach (e.g. bibliometrics, computational humanities). In short, I pitched, while lots of people have opinions about how science and technology "work" and what their relationship is with society (broadly construed), STS actually tries to apply academic rigor (of various degrees and definitions) to understanding these things.

Hayden was more receptive to the value of this than I might have guessed, but this seemed in part to be because he majored in history (for both a B.A. and M.A., Wikipedia tells me), and has clearly done a lot of reading around in political science. Personally I was pretty pleased with this, just because we historians, especially at an engineering school, often get asked what one can do with a humanities degree. Well, you can run the CIA and the NSA, how about that!


I then gave a variation on talks I have given before on the history of secrecy in the United States, and what some common misunderstandings are. First, I pointed out that there are some consequences in just acknowledging that secrecy in the US has a history at all — that it is not "transhistorical," having existed since time immemorial. You can pin-point to beginnings of modern secrecy fairly precisely: World War I has the emergence of many trends that become common later, like the focus on "technical" secrets and the first law (the Espionage Act) that applies to civilians as well as military. World War II saw a huge, unrelenting boom of the secrecy system, with (literally) overflow amounts of background checks (the FBI had to requisition the DC Armory and turn it into a file vault), the rise of technical secrecy (e.g. secrecy of weapons designs), the creation of new classification categories (like "Top Secret," created in 1944), and, of course, the Manhattan Project, whose implementation of secrecy was in some ways quite groundbreaking. At the end of World War II, there was a curious juncture where some approaches to classification were handled in a pre-Cold War way, where secrecy was really just a temporary situation due to ongoing hostilities, and some started to shift towards a more Cold War fashion, where secrecy became a facet of American life.

The big points are — and this is a prerequisite for buying anything else I have to say about the topic — that American secrecy is relatively new (early-to-mid 20th century forward), that it had a few definite points of beginning, that the assumption that the world was full of increasingly dangerous information that needed government regulation was not a timeless one, and that it had changed over time in a variety of distinct and important ways. In short, if you accept that our secrecy is the product of people acting in specific, contingent circumstances, it stops you from seeing secrecy as something that just "has to be" the way it is today. It has been otherwise, it could have been something else, it can be something else in the future: the appeal to contingency, in this case, is an appeal to agency, that is, the ability for human beings to modify the circumstances under which they find themselves. This is, of course, one of the classic policy-relevant "moves" by historians: to try and show that the way the world has come to be isn't the only way it had to be, and to try and encourage a belief that we can make choices for how it ought to be going forward.


General Hayden seemed to accept all of this pretty well. I should note that throughout the talk, he interjected with thoughts and comments routinely. I appreciated this: he was definitely paying attention, to me and to the others. I am sure he has done things like this all the time, visiting a laboratory or university, being subjected to all manner of presentations, and by this point he was post-lunch, a few hours before giving his own talk. But he stayed with it, for both me and the other presenters.

The rest of my talk (which was meant to be only 15 minutes, though I think it was more towards 25 with all of the side-discussions), was framed as "Five myths about secrecy that inhibit meaningful policy discussion and reform." I'm not normally prone to the "five myths" sort of style of talking about this (it is more Buzzfeed than academic), but for the purpose of quickly getting a few arguments across I thought it made for an OK framing device. The "myths" I laid out were as follows

Myth: Secrecy and democracy necessarily conflict. This is the one that will make some my readers blanche at first read, but my point is that there are areas of society where some forms of secrecy need to exist in order to encourage democracy in the first place, and there are places where transparency can itself be inhibiting. The General (unsurprisingly?) was very amenable to this. I then make the move that the trick is to make sure we don't get secrecy in the areas where it does conflict with democracy. The control of information can certainly conflict with the need for public understanding (and right-to-know) that makes an Enlightenment-style democracy function properly. But we needn't see it as an all-or-nothing thing — we "just" have to make sure the secrecy is where it ought to be (and with proper oversight), and the transparency is where it ought to be. Hayden seemed to agree with this.

My best look.

I suspect I look like this more than I wish I did.

Myth: Secrecy and security are synonymous. Secrecy is not the same thing as security, but they are often lumped together (both consciously and not). Secrecy is the method, security is the goal. There are times when secrecy promotes security — and there are times in which secrecy inhibits it. This, I noted, was one of the conclusions of the 9/11 Commission Report as well, that lack of information sharing had seriously crippled American law enforcement and intelligence with regards to anticipating the attacks of 2001. I also pointed out that the habitual use of secrecy led to its devaluation — that when you start stamping "TOP SECRET" on everything, it starts to mean a lot less. The General strongly agreed with this. He also alluded to the fact that nobody ought to be storing any kind of government e-mails on private servers thees days, because the system was so complicated that literally nobody ever knew if they were going to be generating classified information or not — and that this is a problem.

I also noted that an impressiontrue or not, that secrecy was being rampantly misapplied had historically had tremendously negative affects on public confidence in governance, which can lead to all sorts of difficulties for those tasked with said governance. Hayden took to this point specifically, thought it was important, and brought up an example. He said that the US compromise of the 1970s was to get Congressional "buy-in" to any Executive or federal classified programs through oversight committees. He argued that the US, in this sense, was much more progressive with regards to oversight than many European security agencies, who essentially operate exclusively under the purview of the Executive. He said that he thought the NSA had done a great job of getting everything cleared by Congress, of making a public case for doing what it did. But, he acknowledged that clearly this effort had failed — the public did not have a lot of confidence that the NSA was being properly seen over, or that its actions were justified. He viewed this as a major problem for the future, how US intelligence agencies will operate within the expectations of the American people. I seem to recall him saying (I am reporting this from memory) that this was just part of the reality that US intelligence and law enforcement had to learn to live with — that it might hamper them in some ways, but it was a requirement for success in the American context.

I forget what provoked this response, but I couldn't not include it here.

I forget what provoked this response, but I couldn't not include it here.

Myth: Secrecy is a wall. This is a little, small intervention I made in terms of the metaphors of secrecy. We talk about it as walls, as cloaks, and curtains. The secrecy-is-a-barrier metaphor is perhaps the most common (and gets paired a lot with information-is-a-liquid, e.g. leaks and flows), and, if I can channel the thesis of the class I took with George Lakoff a long time ago, metaphors matter. There is not a lot you can do with a wall other than tolerate it, tear it down, find a way around, etc. I argued here that secrecy definitely feels like a wall when you are on the other "side" of it — but it is not one. If it was one, it would be useless for human beings (the only building made of nothing but walls is a tomb). Secrecy is more like a series of doors. (Doors, in turn, are really just temporary walls. Whoa.) Doors act like walls if you can't open them. But they can be opened — sometimes by some people (those with keys, if they are locked), sometimes by all people (if they are unlocked and public). Secrecy systems shift and change over time. Who has access to the doors changes as well, sometimes over time. This comes back to the contingency issue again, but also refocuses our attention less on the fact secrecy itself but how it is used, when access is granted versus withheld, and so on. As a historian, my job is largely to go through the doors of the past that used to be locked, but are now open for the researcher.

Myth: Secrecy is monolithic. That is, "Secrecy" is one thing. You have it or you don't. As you can see from the above, I don't agree with this approach. It makes government secrecy about us-versus-them (when in principle "they" are representatives of "us"), it makes it seem like secrecy reform is the act of "getting rid of" secrecy. It make secrecy an all-or-nothing proposition. This is my big, overarching point on secrecy: it isn't one thing. Secrecy is itself a metaphor; it derives from the Latin secerno: to separate, part, sunder; to distinguish; to set aside. It is about dividing the world into categories of people, information, places, things. This is what "classification" is about and what it means: you are "classifying" some aspects of the world as being only accessible to some people of the world. The metaphor doesn't become a reality, though, without practices (and here I borrow from anthropology). Practices are the human activities that make the idea or goal of secrecy real in the world. Focus on the practices, and you get at the heart of what makes a secrecy regime tick, you see what "secrecy" means at any given point in time.

And, per my earlier emphasis on history, this is vital: looking at the history of secrecy, we can see the practices move and shift over time, some coming into existence at specific points for specific reasons (see, e.g., my history of secret atomic patenting practices during World War II), some going away over times, some getting changed or amplified (e.g., Groves' amplification of compartmentalization during the Manhattan Project — the idea preceded Groves, but he was the one who really imposed it on an unprecedented scale). We also find that some practices are the ones that really screw up democratic deliberation, and some of them are the ones we think of as truly heinous (like the FBI's COINTELPRO program). But some are relatively benign. Focusing on the practices gives us something to target for reform, something other than saying that we need "less" secrecy. We can enumerate and historicize the practices (I have identified at least four core practices that seem to be at the heart of any secrecy regime, whether making an atomic bomb or a fraternity's initiation rites, but for the Manhattan Project there were dozens of discrete practices that were employed to try and protect the secrecy of the work). We can also identify which practices are counterproductive, which ones fail to work, which ones produce unintended consequences. A practice-based approach to secrecy, I argue, is the key to transforming our desires for reform into actionable results.

Hayden's lecture in De Baum auditorium, at Stevens.

Hayden's lecture in De Baum auditorium, at Stevens.

Myth: The answer to secrecy reform is balance. A personal pet peeve of mine are appeals to "balance" — we need a "balance of secrecy and transparency/openness/democracy," what have you. It sounds nice. In fact, it sounds so nice that literally nobody will disagree with it. The fact that the ACLU and the NSA can both agree that we need to have balance is, I think, evidence that it means nothing at all, that it is a statement with no consequences. (Hayden seemed to find this pretty amusing.) The balance argument commits many the sins I've already enumerated. It assumes secrecy (and openness) are monolithic entities. It assumes you can get some kind of "mix" of these pure states (but nobody can articulate what that would look like). It encourages all-or-nothing thinking about secrecy if you are a reformer. Again, the antidote for this approach is a focus on practices and domains: we need practices of secrecy and openness in different domains in American life, and focusing on the effects of these practices (or their lack of existence) gives us actionable steps forward.

I should say explicitly: I am not an activist in any way, and my personal politics are, I like to think, rather nuanced and subtle. I am sure one can read a lot of "party lines" into the above positions if one wants to, but I generally don't mesh well with any strong positions. I am a historian and an academic — I do a lot of work trying to see the positions of all sides of a debate, and it rubs off on me that people of all positions can make reasonable arguments, and that there are likely no simple solutions. That being said, I don't think the current system of secrecy works very well, either from the position of American liberty or the position of American security. As I think I make clear above, I don't accept the idea that these are contradictory goals.

Hayden seemed to take my points well and largely agree with them. In the discussion afterwards, some specific examples were brought up. I was surprised to hear (and he said it later in his talk, so I don't think this is a private opinion) that he sided with Apple in the recent case regarding the FBI and "cracking" the iPhone's security. He felt that while the legal and Constitutional issues probably sat in the FBI's camp, he thought the practice of it was a bad idea: the security compromise for all iPhones would be too great to be worth it. He didn't buy the argument that you could just do it once, or that it would stay secret once it was done. I thought this was a surprising position for him to take.

In general, Hayden seemed to agree that 1. the classification system as it exists was not working efficiently or effectively, 2. that over-classification was a real problem and led to many of the huge issues we currently have with it (he called the Snowden leaks "an effect and not a cause"), 3. that people in the government are going to have to understand that the "price of doing business" in the United States was accepting that you would have to make compromises in what you could know and what you could do, on account of the needs of our democracy.

Hayden's last slide: "Buckle up: It's going to be a tough century." Though the last one was no walk in the park, either...

Hayden's last slide: "Buckle up: It's going to be a tough century." Though I know he'd agree that the last one was no walk in the park, either...

Hayden then went and gave a very well-attended talk followed by a Q&A session. I live-Tweeted the whole thing; I have compiled my tweets into a Storify, if you want to get the gist of what he said. He is also selling a new book, which I suspect has many of these same points in it.

My concluding thoughts: I don't agree with a lot of Hayden's positions and actions. I am a lot less confident than he is that the NSA's work with Congress, for example, constitutes appropriate oversight (it is plainly clear that Congressional committees can be "captured" by the agencies they oversee, and with regards to the NSA in particular, there seems to have been some pretty explicit deception involved in recent years). I am not at all confident that drone strikes do a net good in the regions in which we employ them. I am deeply troubled by things like extraordinary rendition, Guantanamo Bay, water boarding, and anything that shades towards torture, a lack of adherence towards laws of war, or a lack of adherence towards the basic civil liberties that our Constitution articulates as the American idea. Just to put my views on the table. (And to make it clear, I don't necessarily think there are "simple" solutions to the problems of the world, the Middle East, to America. But I am deeply, inherently suspicious that the answer to any of them involves doing things that are so deeply oppositional to these basic American military and Constitutional values.)

But, then again, I'd never be put in charge of the NSA or the CIA, either, and there's likely nobody who would ever be put in charge of said organizations that I would agree with on all fronts. What I did respect about Hayden is that he was willing to engage. He didn't really shirk from questions. He also didn't take the position that everything that the government has done, or is doing, is golden. But most important, for me, was that he took some rather nuanced positions on some tough issues. The core of what I heard him say repeatedly was that the Hobbesian dilemma — that the need for security trumps all — could not be given an absolute hand in the United States. And while we might disagree on how that works out in practice, that he was willing to walk down that path, and not merely be saying it as a platitude, meant something to me. He seemed to be speaking quite frankly, and not just a party or policy line. That's a rare thing, I think, for former high-ranking public officials (and not so long out of office) who are giving public talks — usually they are quite dry, quite unsurprising. Hayden, whether you agree or disagree with him, is neither of these things.

  1. I wrote a preliminary analysis of NUKEMAP patterns up a few years ago, but my 2013 upgrade of the NUKEMAP dramatically increased the kinds of metrics I recorded, and the dataset has grown by an order of magnitude since then. Lest you worry, I take care to anonymize all of the data. There is also an "opt out" option regarding data logging on the NUKEMAP interface. []

Nuclear history bibliography, 2015

Friday, February 5th, 2016

It's (roughly) that time of the year again: my annual nuclear history bibliography for the previous year. (It's a little later than usual this time around, but I've been busy teaching and writing.) The game is more or less the same as it was for 2014, 2013, and 2012: I've tried to compile any and all references to scholarly or at least semi-scholarly articles and books I've founded that were published in 2015 that would be relevant and of interest to those people (like myself) who consider themselves interested in "nuclear history," construed broadly. As before, I've avoided listing websites (except the Electronic Briefing Bulletins of the National Security Archive, because they are a really uniquely valuable form of "publication"), have avoided anything that was simply an updated edition of a book published prior to 2015, and have stuck mostly to scholarly articles (with my own publications being an exception, because, well, I made the list).

The hands of the censor: Charles L. Marshall, Director of Classification, declassifying a document as part of the Atomic Energy Commission's 1971-1976 "declassification drive." Source: Nuclear Testing Archive. Click for the uncropped version.

The hands of the censor: Charles L. Marshall, Director of Classification, declassifying a document as part of the Atomic Energy Commission's 1971-1976 "declassification drive." Click the image for the full-sized version. Source: Nuclear Testing Archive, Las Vegas, Nevada, document NV0148015.

This list is no doubt missing a lot, but it's a start. If you think I missed something, or think something ought not be on here, add it as a comment below (comments that are just references will be read but probably not "approved" — consider them just a way to send me a quick message). I have not read the vast majority of the references below (one only has so much time...), and do not vouch for them in any way. In most cases, I've just glanced enough to confirm that they seem to have a historical component that relates to nuclear technology.

The list was compiled by (tediously) searching through broad keyword searches in a variety of online databases, along with looking at the titles and abstracts of specific journals that are known to carry a lot of this sort of thing.

In the past, it has usually taken about a week for this list to fully stabilize, as people remind me of all the things I've missed. So check back then if you want the most up-to-date version. (I will also update the 2014 bibliography at the same time, with a few extra references I found.) At that point, I will also post the bibtex and RIS version for those who want to import these into a citation manager. Note that some of the processing below is done mechanically (I export from Zotero then use PHP to clean up the links/etc. because it is easier than figuring out how to modify Zotero's internal style sheets), so there may be a few weird little bugs related to that here and there.

And if you're bored to death by bibliographies — don't worry. I'm starting up the regular blog posts again next week.

See the bibliography by clicking here

News and Notes

Rumbles from North Korea

Saturday, January 9th, 2016

This past week and this next week are the last of my winter break before the new semester starts, which in the true fashion of academia means I am more busy than I usually am trying to cram as much non-teaching "work" into every day as possible. North Korea's test of a nuclear weapon earlier this week, of course, just added to the workload. Thanks, Kim Jong-un. I am behind on my annual Nuclear History Bibliography, but it is coming, soon. NUKEMAP usage has been about 10X higher than normal — over 300,000 users last week.

New Yorker - An H-bomb by Any Other Name

I have written up a piece for the New Yorker's Elements blog on the historical-technical-political dimensions of calling something a "hydrogen bomb," or disputing it, that went up yesterday. I also talked a bit to Business Insider about how the true "Teller-Ulam design" of a thermonuclear weapon is not merely a single bomb design but an entire system of designing a getting of possible effects — so one ought not necessarily be expecting the North Koreans to make something that looks like Ivy Mike, Castle Bravo, or, god forbid, the Tsar Bomba. The North Koreans themselves, in their official statement (a wild read in and of itself), claimed that the "technological specifications of the newly developed H-bomb for the purpose of test were accurate and scientifically verified the power of smaller H-bomb" — a lot of little qualifications that seem to be saying, "we're trying for miniaturization, not high yields, and this was a scientific test of a principle, not of a full-yield warhead."

Given their strategic situation, a smaller bomb would make a whole lot more sense than something the size of a school bus. And I would note that the tendency to test all weapons at full power (or even more than the projected yield) is something that, while characteristic of the American program, is not necessarily the only way to do things. (The Soviets typically tested large bombs at half-power, on purpose.)

The seismic waveform of the North Korean test.

The seismic waveform of the 2016 North Korean nuclear test, as detected by a station in Mudanjian, China. Click here to listen to it rendered as audio. Source: Incorporated Research Institutions for Seismology.

Which is just to say, I don't think we (at least those of us in the unclassified world) quite have enough information to really parse out what the North Koreans were trying to do in that test. The yield estimates coming out — ranging from 6 to 30 kilotons or so — don't sound like much, in and of themselves. But there's still a lot we don't know, and might not know.1

Somewhere in between hysterically overestimating North Korea's capabilities and smugly underestimating them is some sort of middle ground, a place where we need to acknowledge that this is 60-year-old technology, and the sheer technical difficulty alone is probably not going to stop them from becoming a fully-fledged nuclear power.

  1. And there are also ways to reduce the seismic signature of nuclear tests — like setting off a test in the cavern created by a previous test. It isn't clear what incentive North Korea would have in making their tests look smaller than they actually were, but, then again, there is much about their thinking that is not intuitive to those of us on the outside. So I'm not sure that's a likely scenario, but I don't think it can be ruled out as impossible. []