Redactions

The “Immediate Cessation of Bomb Manufacture” (1946)

by Alex Wellerstein, published February 15th, 2012

For a brief moment after the end of World War II, the fate of the American nuclear arsenal was unknown. The Manhattan Project had built up a sprawling network of laboratories, production facilities, and administrative offices. But the idea of international control was in the air: the idea that there wouldn’t be a nuclear arms race at all, that somehow the world would find a way to outlaw proliferation before it even began.

It didn’t happen that way, as we well know. Perhaps it was a pipe dream from the start: we also now know that the Soviet Union was fairly dedicated to the idea of getting an atomic bomb of its own, and had been working on it for a number of years at that point. Still, the idea of “international control of atomic energy” is worth taking seriously from an historical mindset: it wasn’t at all clear that the Cold War was going to shake out the way it did, in those early days. And much of what was hoped for did eventually take form in the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty — with the obvious exception that the five big nuclear states got to keep their arsenals.

In this context, today’s weekly document is a memo by Richard C. Tolman, the Caltech physicist who had been General Groves’ scientific advisor during the war, and who served as the scientific advisor to Bernard Baruch, presenter of the ill-fated “Baruch Plan” for international control to the United Nations.1

A meeting of the UN Atomic Energy Commission in October 1946. Baruch is the white-haired man sitting at the table at right behind the “U.S.A” plaque. At far top-right of the photo is Robert Oppenheimer. Two people above Baruch, in the very back, is General Groves. Directly below Groves is Richard Tolman. British physicist James Chadwick sits directly behind the U.K. representative at the table.

Tolman’s memo is an analysis of the question of whether the United States should immediately stop producing more atomic bombs. This sounds like something of a heresy to our modern ears — the US stop producing atomic bombs, right at the dawn of the Cold War? — but as Tolman discusses, there were those thought that it might be a little hard to convince the USSR that you’re willing to submit to international control restrictions when you’re still expanding your nuclear arsenal.

Click image to view PDF.

Tolman was no radical scientist — he was fairly old, he was politically conservative, and he usually came to the same conclusions as General Groves. His analysis on the cessation issue was also fairly conservative: he pointed out that even if the production of bombs was stopped, there would be no pleasing the Soviets with it, since they would argue that production was going on in secret, or that the US probably already had a big stockpile saved up. (The former point, Tolman notes, might emphasize the importance of inspection, which would become the sticking point of the Baruch Plan. On the latter point, I am not sure whether Tolman knew that that the US stockpile was quite small at that point, but he might have.)

Moreover, Tolman argued that if they made a big deal of stopping, and then later decided to resume production, it would have “a serious adverse effect on international relations.”

Still, the fact that Tolman had to go through and make a systematic (and classified) analysis of the issue tells us a lot about the period — it wasn’t an unthinkable idea that the US might have stopped producing nuclear weapons. Within a few years, of course, such an idea would enter into the unthinkable domain, at least for those in positions of influence, and stay there for much of the Cold War.

  1. Richard C. Tolman to John M. Hancock, “Immediate cessation of bomb manufacture,” (4 October 1946), in National Archives, Records of the Office of Scientific Research and Development, RG 227, Files of Richard C. Tolman, S-1 Files, Box 1, “Atomic Energy Commission.” []
Meditations

Is the Past Strange or Familiar?

by Alex Wellerstein, published February 13th, 2012

Is the job of the historian to make the past look strange, or sensible?

I bring this up in the context of a very interesting discussion that Will Thomas has posted on his blog, Ether Wave Propaganda. Will’s post was in response to my previous post on imagery and metaphors; you should go to Will’s blog to see his comments and my comments on those.

The broader question that Will addresses — or at least, that I take him to be addressing — is one that has confounded me for some time. Historians in general, and especially historians of science, have for a long time rallied against the notion of “Whig history”: teleological historical accounts that explain how the past adds up in a logical fashion towards a rational present. Many historians have pointed out that this is something of a straw man, but  that’s not really my concern here.

The question for me is what our duty to the past is. Do we make it look unusual, or do we make it look relatable?

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Visions

“If an A-bomb Falls” (1950)

by Alex Wellerstein, published February 10th, 2012

John Cloud, an historian at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), sent me scans of a really wonderful precursor to the NUKEMAP. It comes from a 1950 publication by the National Industrial Conference Board titled, If an A-Bomb Falls:

John reports that the pamphlet was some 20 pages long and was designed to help apocalypse-minded executives figure out how impending nuclear war might affect their bottom line.

The mapping connection comes from the fact that the pamphlet also included a overlay acetate sheet that, if you had your maps printed to the right size, could be overlaid on top of them to show you various nuclear effects:

As the overlay explains,

By placing this insert over a vital target in your community you can judge the effects of an atomic explosion, either air or underwater, on your plant and community. Air burst effects are based on Japanese explosions, with detonation at 2,000 feet. Underwater burst effects are based on Bikini, with wind velocity of 5 mph. Higher winds would carry the surge front downwind more quickly and increase the area and volume of the surge cloud.

The radii don’t quite match up to the NUKEMAP calculations, but they’re close. They’re a bit larger on the whole because they include some more moderate effects, like “moderate skin burns.” It’s also probably the case that even in 1950, the AEC hadn’t released full information on the effects radii. But other than that, they seem to match up well with 20kt explosions.

Of course, by 1950, the US had already increased its standard yields to around 49kt. And the yields would only go up from there. The Soviets had 20kt bombs in 1950, but by 1951 would be testing weapons in the 40kt range. And the yields would only go up from there. (And so it goes.) So this sort of overlay would have had, let us say, some planned obsolescence built into it.

Still, it’s pretty amazing, with its brilliant colors and highly “busy” rings. No simple circles here!

For your amusement, I whipped up a very simple Google Maps simulation of what it would be like to use ones of these. Nothing fancy — just drag your location and the “air burst” image will remain centered (and at the right size for a 20kt blast):

If you have trouble viewing the map as embedded above, click here to view it as a stand-alone page. Per usual, it attempts to center in on wherever Google thinks you are accessing the internet from, based on your IP address. (This particular function is not super accurate, but there you have it.) No logs are kept of where you move it to. Playing with it a bit, I’ve noticed that the image gets a bit distorted depending on your latitude and longitude. This has to do with plotting an essentially square overlay (the PNG image that makes up the explosion) onto the surface. It looks more or less fine if you stay at around the same latitude as the continental USA. If you start changing latitude the little circles will either compress or expand along one dimension. Things get very strange near the poles. You have been warned: this isn’t science! I’m sure there is some kind of correction I could put into the latitude measurement to keep this from happening, but I’m not too shook up about it.

John (who is known to historians of Cold War secrecy as the author of a number of articles on the CORONA satellites) came across this in the Coast and Geodetic Survey Library during his long-running research into the origins and practices of analog map overlays, the genesis of what are now called geographic information systems. Pretty interesting stuff.

Redactions

Declassifying the Ivy Mike film (1953)

by Alex Wellerstein, published February 8th, 2012

Every good nuclear wonk has seen the delightfully over-the-top film that the government made about the Operation Ivy test in 1952. If you’ve seen any films involving nuclear test footage, you’ve probably seen parts of it, even if you didn’t recognize it as such. It ranks probably second in the all-time-most-viewed nuclear weapons films.1

Ivy Mike was, of course, the first test of a staged, multi-megaton thermonuclear weapon: the first hydrogen bomb. With an explosive yield of 10.4 million tons of TNT, it was a grim explication how tremendously destructive nuclear arms could be. Even Congressmen had difficulty making sense its power.

A 17-minute version (down from 28 minutes, which is already down from the hour-plus version now available from Archive.org, embedded above) of the Operation Ivy film was released for American citizens on April 1, 1954. The domestic and international reactions were immediate. The Soviet Union warned its people that these weapons could destroy “the fruits of a thousand years of human toil”; Premier Nehru of India called for the US and USSR to cease all hydrogen bomb tests. It was replayed two days later in the United Kingdom with an estimated 8 million viewers, even though supposedly the film was not meant to be distributed overseas, to avoid inflaming international opinion against nuclear testing.

The New York Times’ television critic, Jack Gould, reviewed it negatively: “A turning point in history was treated like another installment of ‘Racket Squad.'”2 The problem, Gould explained, was that it used “theatrical tricks” to talk down to the audience. Now the irony here is that the Operation Ivy film wasn’t made for a television audience. It was made for the President of the United States and top military brass and folks like that. Which makes the “talking down” even more disturbing, no?

This week’s document concerns the internal deliberations by the Atomic Energy Commission regarding the declassification and sanitizing of the Operation Ivy film. This report, AEC 483/47, outlines the opinion of the AEC directors of Classification and the Information Service about whether the film could and should be declassified.3

Click the image for the full PDF.

This isn’t the story of how it ends up on American television, but it is moving in that direction. The document goes over a proposal to release an edited (sanitized) version of the film for usage at a Conference of Mayors that President Eisenhower had assembled. The goal was to convince the mayors that Civil Defense was important: you’d better act now, before your city gets nuked.

The problem: the AEC didn’t really want to release the precise yield of the Mike shot. That’s a hard thing to hide when you’re obliterating an island with it. They also weren’t keen on releasing the fact that this wasn’t a deliverable weapon yet, but they couldn’t see a way of getting around that without seriously cutting it down to nothing. But at least they managed to cut out everything about its design, and the Ivy King shot (the largest pure-fission explosion, at half a megaton).

Read the full post »

  1. First likely goes to the Crossroads Baker test, which aside from being used everywhere is featured very prominently, repeatedly, at the end of Dr. Strangelove. []
  2. Note that the Operation Ivy narrator was Reed Hadley, from the aforementioned “Racket Squad.” []
  3. Citation: Report by the Directors of Classification and Information Service regarding the Film on Operation Ivy (AEC 483/47), (8 December 1953), copy in Nuclear Testing Archive, Las Vegas, NV, document #NV0074012. []
Meditations

More “Fun” with NUKEMAP

by Alex Wellerstein, published February 6th, 2012

I’ve been chuffed by the reception of NUKEMAP. Since I posted it last Friday morning, nearly 700 people have nuked themselves, or others, using it. There have been over 1,500 individual “detonations.” Shockingly, this impressive number is still 500 fewer than the number of actual nuclear detonations that have been performed by nuclear states as part of their nuclear testing regimes.

Who got nuked? I started keeping statistics as to where people were nuking a few hours after posting the original NUKEMAP. Here’s an image of the 1,500 detonations plotted onto their respective locations (the circle sizes are just icons, they don’t correspond with actual detonation sizes, some of which are ridiculous):

We Will All Go Together When We Go,” unless you live in central Eurasia, sub-Saharan Africa, western Australia, or Canada north of the border. Or Spain, for whatever reason. (They’ve had it bad enough as it is, I think.) Here’s a detail of the United States:

I don’t want to give out deeper granularity than the above image, just for privacy reasons (you know, in case you nuked your own house). (There is an “opt-out” checkbox on the NUKEMAP page, if you don’t want me seeing where you’ve nuked.) I will say, though, that my boss owned up to nuking Punxsutawney Phil back to the stone age.

I’ve been having fun with this myself on the technical side. I keep tinkering with the code — optimizing it, making it more flexible, adding features, and so on. Here are some interesting things for you to try out  which I added over the last weekend:

  • Try nuking Hiroshima, Japan, with the Little Boy bomb.
  • Try nuking the Trinity test site with the Fat Man bomb.
  • Try nuking the Bikini Atoll with the Castle Bravo bomb.

For all of these, you need fairly precise targeting, so use the preset menu. I’ve got a few other things I’m planning to add to it, over time. (If nothing “special” happens, make sure you have reloaded the page a few time, in case your browser is caching it. And pay attention to your options on the right-hand menu, as some of the special bits don’t enable automatically.) None of these additions are scientifically accurate — they involve some rough transitioning as they get adapted from still photographs to Google Earth coordinates — but they’re probably not too wrong.

You can also now plot multiple nuclear blasts if you are so inclined. If you click the “detach” button, the existing detonation circles will be “locked” wherever you have put them, and you will be given a new marker to target with. Use the “clear” button to clear all plotted effects.

I’m an historian, so I’m constantly curious about whether these scaling codes work well with “real world” nuclear landmarks. In a few places, you can see exactly how close they are. Here’s the crater from the Sedan test at the Nevada Test Site, which was a purposeful attempt to make a big hole in the ground. It matches up pretty exactly with a 104kt model fireball, which one would expect, given how the point of the Sedan test was to make maximal use of the explosion:

Also check-able is the massive crater caused by the detonation of Ivy Mike, the first hydrogen bomb (10.4 Mt):

Pretty cool, no? Well, I thought it was.

I have a few more mapping projects in the works (at least two), and a few more goodies I’m planning to add to the existing NUKEMAP. I’ve also got a few ideas about adding fallout approximations to NUKEMAP, which could be interesting.

If you think up something clever that NUKEMAP might be able to do, please feel free to post it as a comment here or to send me an e-mail. I’m finding the Google Maps API much improved over the last time I played with it, a few years ago, and it’s letting me translate these ideas into “realities” much more quickly than I imagined.