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In November, two veteran peace activists, Robin Collins and Tariq Rauf, chatted with Metta Spencer in a Project Save the World forum about the unsettling paralysis of current nuclear diplomacy. Their tone, as three longtime members of the Canadian Pugwash Group, was typical of the numerous unscripted Zoom conversations that go on among activists every day. And, as usual lately, they all expressed dismay about a world sleepwalking toward catastrophe, where treaties crumble, communication fails, and the very institutions designed to prevent disaster seem powerless.
The Pugwash Conferences on Science and World Affairs, awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1995 for their Cold War-era work in bridging East-West divides, now works in a period where “triumphs to brag about” are scarce. In the geopolitical landscape now, foundational arms control agreements are not being strengthened, but abandoned.
Tariq Rauf, with his decades of experience at the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) and his vantage point in Vienna, briefed Collins and Spencer on the lack of progress. The only major nuclear arms control treaty remaining between the United States and Russia is New START, which caps deployed strategic warheads at 1,550 each. However, as Rauf detailed, the treaty’s verification mechanisms—the data exchanges and on-site inspections that build trust—are “suspended.” Only the numerical limits remain, and even those are on borrowed time, set to expire on February 5, 2026. Russia has offered to maintain these limits, but the U.S. response, particularly under the reported warnings of new Russian systems like the nuclear powered Poseidon drone, has been noncommittal at best. The General Assembly and its First Committee on Disarmament can pass resolutions, but they are mere recommendations.
“The two Presidents can decide by themselves,” Rauf mused, highlighting the simplicity of a technical extension. Yet, this simple act seems politically insurmountable. The discussion turned to Vladimir Putin’s boasts about weapons that could trigger radioactive tsunamis— rhetoric that Spencer recalled with alarm. Rauf contextualized these as part of a dangerous pattern of statements “about laying waste the United Kingdom and or the United States.” The professional arms control community, he noted, largely agrees the limits should be maintained, but the political will is absent.
Another chilling exchange came from Robin Collins, who pressed Rauf on a rarely discussed reality: the staggering stockpile of fissile material that remains from the Cold War. While the world focuses on the approximately 12,300 assembled warheads (with 2,000 on high alert), a hidden danger lurks. Rauf laid out the numbers with clinical precision: roughly 1,500 metric tons of highly enriched uranium and 500 metric tons of separated plutonium exist in global stockpiles, primarily in the U.S. and Russia.
“So in all,” Rauf stated, “we have somewhere around enough nuclear material for 60,000 nuclear weapons.” This is the ghost arsenal of the Cold War, the latent potential for annihilation that persists even after treaties reduced the number of deployed weapons. Furthermore, he pointed out that the 1,550 deployed warheads per side under New START are a deceptive figure. Both nations retain roughly 3,000 additional warheads in storage, which can be rapidly re-mated to existing missiles, nearly doubling the ready arsenal overnight without violating the letter of the treaty.
The conversation then delved into the terrifying logic of nuclear postures, particularly the vulnerability of land-based intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs). These systems, Rauf explained, create a “use them or lose them” dilemma. Upon a warning of an incoming attack—even a false one—there is immense pressure to launch these “sitting ducks” before they are destroyed. He recounted “more than 60 instances of false warnings during the Cold War,” where flocks of geese or the rising moon were misinterpreted by early warning systems.
This is where the human and technical factors collide catastrophically. Rauf noted that Russia still has “gaps” in its missile warning infrastructure, making it “more jittery and more prone to panic.” The solution, as both Collins and Rauf emphasized, is sustained communication: “channels of communication to remain open [so] the two sides talk to each other… and try to drive down the tensions instead of stirring them up further.”
The recent Netflix film ‘House of Dynamite’, which dramatizes a single, unstoppable missile launch, served as a cultural touchstone in their talk—an echo of the very scenarios that keep strategists awake at night.
Spencer, circling back to their starting point, asked the fundamental question: “Why is the United Nations unable to make any progress on this extremely important issue?” The sole multilateral negotiating body, the Conference on Disarmament in Geneva, “has not managed to agree on anything since 1996.” The machinery of diplomacy is rusted shut.
Rauf’s answer was blunt: “These organizations can only do what their member states allow them to do.” The General Assembly and its First Committee on Disarmament can pass resolutions, but they are mere recommendations. The sole multilateral negotiating body, the Conference on Disarmament in Geneva, “has not managed to agree on anything since 1996.” The machinery of diplomacy is rusted shut.
A particularly revealing moment concerned Canada’s role. Rauf expressed disappointment that Austria’s recent UN resolution calling for New START negotiations and the maintenance of limits was co-sponsored by about 30 countries, but “the Maple Leaf was missing.” Collins attributed this to “sensitive times in the Canada U.S. relationship.” Here was a case study in the failure of middle-power diplomacy: even a traditionally active state like Canada, fearing Washington’s displeasure, chose silence over principle.
So, what is to be done? The conversation ended not with a grand solution, but with a return to first principles. Collins pointed to the “two-track diplomacy” of the Pugwash movement itself, which brings together scientists, officials, and experts from adversarial states for off-the-record, problem-solving dialogue. It’s a slow, quiet, and often unheralded process, but historically, it has helped create the conditions for breakthroughs when official channels are frozen.
The path forward, as outlined by these three seasoned observers, is fraught but clear:
1. Preserve Existing Limits: The immediate priority is a political decision to extend the New START numerical ceilings. For fully one solemn hour, these three friends stared together into the gaping hole where there should be political will.
2. Revive Communication: Restore the military-to-military and diplomatic channels that prevent misunderstandings from spiraling into conflict.
3. Empower Middle Powers: Build coalitions of non-nuclear states with the economic and political backbone to pressure the nuclear giants.
4. Sustain Citizen Action: Support the Track II dialogues and public pressure that can shift the political calculus within nuclear-armed states.
Their conversation was typical of the pessimistic discourse among peace advocates today. It moved seamlessly from treaty minutiae to the horrifying human cost of testing in Kazakhstan, from Netflix plotlines to the raw mathematics of megatonnage. For fully one solemn hour, these three friends stared together into the gaping hole where there should be political will.
While no one wants nuclear war, the combination of technological advancement, rhetorical escalation, diplomatic failure, and institutional paralysis makes it more likely by the day. The warning from Vienna, Ottawa, and Toronto is clear: the gears of disarmament have stopped turning. Restarting them is not a technical challenge, but a test of political courage.
Wake up, citizen diplomats! There is work for us all to do.