Forty-five feet underground in a command center near Omaha, there’s an encrypted communications line that goes directly to the American president. To get to it, you need to pass through a guarded turnstile, two reinforced steel doors and a twisting hallway that leads to an ultra-secure room called The Battle Deck. It’s here, below the headquarters of the U.S. Strategic Command, where military personnel stand by 24 hours a day, awaiting a call the world hopes will never come: a direct order from their commander in chief – the president – to launch a nuclear attack.
Stratcom’s commander, Gen. Anthony Cotton, and his team would inform the president about the nuclear options during a continuing crisis.
The workstations in The Battle Deck are arranged stadium-style around 15 L.E.D. screens that glow with real-time information and maps. Hanging from the ceiling, a small digital display reads: Blue Impact Timer, Red Impact Timer and Safe Escape Timer, all set to 00:00:00. If a president were to order the launch of a nuclear weapon, the timers would start ticking, alerting everyone in the room to how long they have before U.S. weapons hit the enemy, how long before the enemy’s weapons hit us and how long before the building and all the people in it are destroyed by the incoming nuclear-tipped missiles.
A rapid assessment takes about two minutes.
In the U.S., it’s up to one person to decide whether the world becomes engulfed in nuclear war. Only the president has the authority to launch any of the roughly 3,700 nuclear weapons, an arsenal capable of destroying all human life many times over. And that authority is absolute: No other person in the U.S. government serves as a check or balance once he or she decides to go nuclear. There is no requirement to consult Congress, to run the idea by the defense secretary or to ask the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff for his or her opinion.
The American president must rely upon his or her prudence and steady nerves to make a decision that could alter the course of human history.
Of course, American voters alone will decide in November whom they want to endow with that power.
No other aspect of U.S. military power is legally conducted this way. Authorizing drone strikes on terrorism suspects, for instance, requires approvals up and down the chain of command, from a commander in the field to the general overseeing the region to the defense secretary to the president. Larger operations, like a ground invasion of another country, require the president to ask Congress for a formal declaration of war or authorization for the use of military force.
Nuclear operations have a unique protocol. A nuclear attack against the U.S. could destroy the nation’s defenses and leadership in 30 minutes or less, giving the American president roughly 15 minutes to decide whether to launch a counterattack.
It’s an intricate procedure that involves dozens of people and perfect synchronization in a moment of inconceivable stress.
The idea that one human should have to make such a consequential decision in 15 minutes or less is nearly beyond comprehension. It is, however, unacceptable for an American president to have the sole authority to launch a nuclear first strike without a requirement for consultation or consensus.
Putting so much unchecked power in the hands of one person is not only risky but also deeply antithetical to how America defines itself. It also makes people deeply uneasy: Recent polling found that 61% of Americans are uncomfortable with the president’s sole authority.
That’s not an uncertainty the world should have to live with. Congress should immediately establish a new legal framework that restricts the president from being able to issue a nuclear launch order without the consent of another senior official unless the U.S. is already under attack.
As the world staggers into another volatile nuclear age, Congress should not treat such scenarios as hypothetical. They should treat them as if all of our lives depend on them.
W.J. Hennigan writes Opinion pieces about national security for The New York Times.
