WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD
Two Saturdays ago, I was one of many worldwide who went to see Oppenheimer in its opening weekend (though not one of the 200,000 people to pull off the Barbenheimer double feature). I enjoyed the movie and recommend it, but frankly no one should care or put any stock behind that – I am easily entertained and like almost every movie I see.
Cinematography aside, Oppenheimer is worth seeing because it is a profound exploration of nuclear fear. The movie offers clarifying insights into the nature of our anxieties and reveals why this fear seems to be unique to nuclear.
Near-Zero
The movie is filled with gripping sequences, among them the night leading up to the Trinity test. The atmosphere is charged with anxiety and anticipation as the Los Alamos team waits for the weather to clear, approaching the first-ever attempt to detonate a nuclear bomb.
In a moment of chilling levity, Oppenheimer explains to General Groves ahead of the test that scientists had considered the possibility of the explosion igniting the atmosphere and ending the world but concluded that the chances of such a scenario were “near zero." The answer startles Groves, and Oppenheimer asks, “What do you want from theory alone?" Groves responds, "Zero would be nice."
However, it was known long before the Trinity test that this doomsday scenario wasn’t a real possibility. So why include it? One doesn’t have to be a filmmaker or critic to realize the use of artistic license made for an incredibly powerful scene. The audience gets to see the debut of the nuclear bomb as a game of dice where the stakes are the fate of humanity.
While the intimation of the movie was the existence of a very small chance that the world would end, in actuality “near zero” simply means non-disprovable – the inability to say for certain something cannot happen through theory or observed evidence.
Our deepest fears of nuclear exist in the realm of “near zero”. They manifest in fantastical scenarios with probabilities infinitesimally small and no definite way to disprove their existence.
Take for example the waste produced by nuclear power, i.e. the spent nuclear fuel. Questions about managing the waste into the future almost always lead to some iteration of the following hypothetical:
“What if, thousands of years from now after our civilization has collapsed, someone comes across casks containing nuclear waste due to bad luck or curiosity? And what if they cannot read English but possess the capability to cut through thick reinforced concrete and steel and decide to do so?”
The inability to guarantee that such a scenario cannot occur is used as a legitimate argument that nuclear waste cannot be responsibly created and managed.
A similar argument is used to protest nuclear power more generally. What if an accident causes a runaway nuclear meltdown so severe that the reactor melts through its containment into and through the earth a la The China Syndrome? Or what if an accident causes an explosion so massive that it renders an entire country or continent uninhabitable?
Oppenheimer bludgeons the audience with the idea that a single nuclear detonation could trigger a catastrophic chain reaction of nuclear launches, leading to the complete destruction of the world. This near-zero scenario remains the most pervasive and severe fear associated with nuclear, and reinforces many of the other anxieties described above.
Theory vs. The Real World
One of the themes of the film is the contrast between the theoretical and experimental. One way this is presented to the audience is through the juxtaposition of Oppenheimer and his colleague at Berkeley Ernest Lawrence. Oppenheimer’s academic work focused on developing quantum theory; Lawrence on the other hand won a Nobel Prize for his invention of the cyclotron for high-energy particle experiments.
In the movie Lomanitz, first introduced as the sole student in Oppenheimer’s inaugural course at Berkeley, breaks the news that German scientists had successfully split the atom. He runs off to the lab, while Oppenheimer rushes to his blackboard to show how this was theoretically impossible. A short time later Lawrence, who listens patiently to a disbelieving Oppenheimer, explains that Lomanitz successfully recreated the experiment, quipping “theory will take you only so far” – a line that gets repeated in the film.
Nuclear fears are largely theoretical. The evidence we DO have suggests that the consequences of our worst fears – the near-zero scenarios – aren’t as catastrophic as we imagine.
Let's return to nuclear waste. Beginning in the late 19th century, experimental observations and collected data allowed scientists to construct timelines showing how long it takes specific isotopes to lose their heat and radioactivity. What do these decay rates mean for the post-apocalyptic archaeologists who stumble upon nuclear waste?
About 40 years after nuclear fuel is removed from the reactor, its heat and radioactivity will have fallen by over 99 percent. After around 500 years, the waste would have to be broken down and inhaled or ingested to cause significant harm. Unless future excavators decide to grind it up and snort it, the power tools or explosives they use attempting to open the casks will pose a far greater threat to their health and safety than anything they’ll find inside.
What about nuclear meltdowns? Just twelve days after The China Syndrome was released – which included the line “It'll render an area the size of Pennsylvania uninhabitable” – a partial meltdown occurred at the Three Mile Island nuclear power plant…in Pennsylvania.
Yet the reactor did not tunnel through the earth. The reactor vessel contained the majority of radioactive materials, meaning there was no harm to the surrounding environment or population. The official report commissioned by President Carter concluded that the most serious health effect of the accident was the stress it caused, “which was short-lived.” In other words, fear ended up being the most dangerous part of the accident.
When people imagine nuclear meltdowns or worst-case scenarios, they’re likely imagining a Chernobyl-like accident. A simulated emergency gone awry resulted in a glowing reactor exposed to the environment and on fire, spewing radioactive particles.
But the fascination with the event looms far beyond its death toll and physical impact. According to the United Nations report on the health impacts of Chernobyl, 50 deaths can be directly attributed to the accident, and an additional 145 deaths may or may not eventually occur from thyroid cancer. There have not been any increases in other types of cancer, and no effects on infant mortality, malformations, or fertility.
Contrary to the idea that Chernobyl made the land uninhabitable, it didn’t even manage to make the plant uninhabitable: the other three Chernobyl reactors continued to operate after the accident.
The third major nuclear accident that often gets invoked is Fukushima. On March 11, 2011, Japan experienced the strongest earthquake in its recorded history, which triggered a massive tsunami. A 15 meter wave disabled the power supply at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power station, causing three of the six reactors at the plant to melt down.
Of the nearly 20,000 people who tragically lost their lives, not a single death was due to the release of radiation. Two workers drowned when the basement of a reactor flooded. The U.N. concluded that there would be no observed health effects from radiation expected among exposed members of the public or their descendants.
Although the accidents may evoke disproportionate fear, they reveal worst-case scenarios in nuclear power are far less dangerous than what we once imagined.
Fortunately, we don’t have analogous incidents to evaluate our fears of nuclear warfare. Hiroshima and Nagasaki were the first and only nuclear weapons to be used in conflict. But that fact in and of itself provides information.
Oppenheimer spent the remainder of his career warning policymakers and the public that the more nations that got nuclear weapons, the more dangerous the world would become. Since the end of World War II, eight more countries have developed nuclear weapons.
Yet the post-war period has been one of extended peace. The death rate from conflict worldwide has declined by over 90 percent in the nearly 80 years since the invention and spread of nuclear weapons.
This fact is certainly not persuasive evidence that the existence of more nuclear weapons reduces the consequences of a worst-case scenario. It does however raise the possibility that nuclear weapons make conflict below the level of nuclear war intolerable between nuclear powers. If not in for a pound, not in for a penny.
Our world has always been one of non-disprovable risk, and navigating life’s uncertainties requires acknowledging unknowns and making informed decisions on the best information we have. The capacity for human destruction has long been evident, and the thought that humanity possesses the capability to destroy itself predated the invention of nuclear weapons. Also, we understand that dangerous things can be extremely useful, accepting the risk of hazardous technologies, tools, and compounds every day because they make life much better.
Yet our framework for understanding risk and reward in a world full of unknowns seems to break down for nuclear specifically. In particular, all of the available evidence shows that nuclear power combines unusually small physical risks with unusually rich rewards. Yet a common response to this information is to escalate the near-zero scenarios and demand more proof. Why does nuclear seem to be special in this regard?
A New Fire
Oppenheimer opens with a title card about Prometheus, the Titan who defied the gods by stealing fire from Mount Olympus and giving it to humanity. In legend, this was viewed as the beginning of human civilization.
Many scholars, including historians, anthropologists, and biologists, view the ability of early humans to harness fire as a pivotal turning point in human evolution and civilization. The ability to cook food is thought to have supported the development of larger brains. Fire building was instrumental in adapting to diverse environments, offering enhanced protection and unlocking novel survival possibilities. This pivotal skill laid the foundation for modern human civilization, enabling agriculture and culture. Fire completely revolutionized humanity.
Nuclear is not a drastic advancement; it is a fundamental transformation.
Similar to the discovery of fire, the ability to split the atom opened doors to previously unimaginable possibilities.
Nuclear power has the potential to generate vast amounts of emissions-free energy capable of powering the world for billions of years, offering to liberate us from existing material limitations and ecological constraints.
The utilization of nuclear isotopes in medicine has provided unparalleled insights into the functioning of the human body, enabling precise diagnoses and new treatments of various health conditions.
Thanks to nuclear propulsion and radioactive isotopes, we can explore the previously inaccessible depths of the ocean and venture into the vast expanses of space, unlocking new frontiers of knowledge and understanding.
Like fire, nuclear power is a double-edged sword. As the movie eludes and as many are keenly aware, nuclear weapons also amplify humanity's ability to inflict destruction.
The enormity of nuclear’s impact, coupled with the challenge of fully grasping its intricacies, explains why our fears of the technology seem unique, or at least disproportionate to other risks we face. Nuclear represents a massive departure from the previously known and familiar, it would be absurd not to treat it with distinct concern and precaution. In all likelihood, it will have profound effects on humanity that we cannot yet perceive of. It is truly a new fire.
The Dawn of the Atomic Age
Ahead of the film’s release, Nolan teased and cautioned about its ending. He described people being "absolutely devastated," rendered speechless, and compared the experience to a horror film where one would come face to face with the concept of becoming "Death, Destroyer of Worlds."
The final scene begins with a conversation between Oppenheimer and Einstein. Oppenheimer asks whether Einstein recalls the two men discussing the near-zero scenario – an atomic explosion igniting the atmosphere. “When I came to you with those calculations, we thought we might start a chain reaction that might destroy the entire world.”
“What of it?” Einstein asks.
“I believe we did,” Oppenheimer says.
In a montage of nightmarish flashes, the audience is shown gigantic nuclear explosions across the world's surface from space. The lone missile Oppenheimer envisioned earlier turns out to be the first of many. Reminiscent of a past scene, he reappears in a bomber cockpit, watching as the missiles overhead land and engulf the globe in flames.
This sequence leaves the audience vulnerable to the literal interpretation of Oppenheimer’s speculation, "I believe we did” — that the inevitable consequence of splitting the atom will be the destruction of the world. Given Nolan's warnings, it's undoubtedly what he expected viewers to walk away thinking. However, there is an alternative read of the meaning, one alluded to earlier in the film.
After escaping Nazi-occupied Denmark, Niels Bohr is brought to Los Alamos by General Groves. He informs Oppenheimer he isn’t there to help on the project, but rather encourages him to think through the implications of success. “It’s not a new weapon. It’s a new world.”
In this sense, Oppenheimer’s belief – that the scientists had in fact destroyed the world – was right. They ended the world that predated fission. For better or for worse, humanity now understands how to split the atom. As such, many scholars and historians argue we are at the beginning of a new era in world history, often referred to as the "Atomic Age”.
Widely-supported evidence indicates the controlled use of fire by Homo erectus began somewhere between 800,000 and one million years ago. On this timescale, 80 years is incredibly tiny, nearly negligible. This places us at the very beginning of the Atomic Age, at the precipice of a new world. If we begin to understand nuclear in this way, the fear surrounding it becomes even more understandable.
But the old world is in fact gone. Even if every single nuclear weapon on earth were dismantled, the knowledge of how to rebuild them would remain, allowing us to return to that starting position if desired. The question then becomes: how much do we utilize this new power?
We can limit nuclear’s potential in a futile attempt to “put the genie back in the bottle,” or we can do what we’ve always done – move the metrics of progress fitfully upward for the benefit of all mankind.