1

Movements against horizontal nuclear development are nuclear orientalism –

they construct the West in opposition to the rest of the world and legitimate
the creation and exclusion of Otherness. This entails Othering that operates on
the lines of nuclear weapons bans and colonial ideologies that require the
reduction of bodies to expendable technologies.
Mathur 18 Ritu Mathur, 2018, “Techno-Racial dynamics of denial & difference in weapons control,” Asian Journal of Political
Science, 1–17. doi:10.1080/02185377.2018.1515640, SJBE

‘difference is marked and

Dynamic of difference In reimagining the West and articulating the problem of difference or heterology in international relations, scholars contend that

contained as international difference’ with the emergence of territorially bounded modern

sovereign states that ‘defines the problem of difference principally as between and among
states’ (Naeem & David, 2004). It is claimed that the insistence on the maintenance of order in the international
system generates a ‘pervasive suspicion of difference’ as a source of disorder, degeneration
and armed conflict. The ‘problem of difference emerges and intensifies under modern conditions of relative equality, often leading to the reassertion of 2 R. MATHUR (illicit or informal)
forms of social hierarchy’ and the marking of others as inferior, dependent and threatening (Naeem & David, 2004, p. 23). The doubt and anxiety generated with

the discovery of difference is to be contained by locating it ‘at some distance from the self’
and insisting on structural uniformity. These managerial exercises compound the problem of difference by their failure to account for the injuries suffered as a result
of a violent and exploitative colonial practices of imperialism. Barkawi and Stanski (2012) further suggest that war among states is ‘a difference of opinion pursued through violent means’ (Barkawi & Stanski, 2012,

pp. 2–3) It is the act of splitting of inside/outside that ‘deflect (s) our responses to difference in the
direction of ‘putrefying hatred’ and constitutes the ‘political and ethical limits and possibilities
of modern life’ (Naeem & David, 2004, pp. 44–45). These conditions of sovereign political community foster
‘ethically limited and tragic interactions of these separate states’ (Naeem & David, 2004, pp.
44–45). The tragic interactions during war entail ‘recognition as well as Othering’ through war propaganda
(Porter, 2013). But such propaganda exercises are often undertaken as preliminary measures prior to the catalytic event that leads to the outbreak of actual war. This othering takes

place through deployment of techno-racial stereotyping. It is differences in technology and race

that are emphasized to produce stereotypes. John W. Dower (1986) argues that ‘portraits of the enemy’ are sketched through ‘gross simplification and
reductionism’ generating two forms of stereotyping (Dower, 1986, p. 30). The ‘first kind of stereotyping could be summed up in the

statement: You are the opposite of what you say you are and the opposite of us, not peaceful
but warlike, not good but bad … In the second form of stereotyping, the formula ran like this:
you are what you say you are, but that itself is reprehensible’ (Dower, 1986, p. 30). Postcolonial scholarship has probed at length into
these cultural encounters to expose the psychology that accompanies techno-racial stereotypes of Orientalism and Occidentalism. A ‘dehumanizing picture of the West’ is painted through the prejudiced practices
of Occidentalism (Buruma & Margalit, 2004). Practices of Occidentalism regard the West with ‘loathing’ as a ‘“machine civilization”, coldly rationalist, mechanical, without a soul’ (Buruma & Margalit, 2004, pp. 31,
21, 19). Occidentalism is often ‘seen as the expression of bitter resentment toward an offensive display of superiority by the West’ (Buruma & Margalit, 2004, p. 91). Yet there is also a desire for ‘Western
knowledge for practical matters, such as weaponry’ (Buruma & Margalit, 2004, p. 39). An occidentalist exhibits awareness that it is only through practices of ‘development and modernization’ that it is possible to

But ‘the problem of radical modernizers is

make any allowance for any possibility of regeneration and redemption of the Other (Naeem & David, 2004, p. 49).

how to modernize without becoming a mere clone of the West’ (Buruma & Margalit, 2004, p. 39). This resistance to becoming a
clone of the West is because ‘the mind of the West in the eyes of the Occidentalists is a truncated mind, good for finding the best way to achieve a given goal, but utterly useless in finding the right way’ (Buruma&

‘the mind of the West is often portrayed by Occidentalists’ as a: mind

Margalit, 2004, p. 76). Buruma and Margalit assert that,

without a soul, efficient, like a calculator, but hopeless at doing what is humanly important. The
mind of the West is capable of great economic success, to be sure, and of developing and promoting advanced technology, but cannot grasp the higher things in life, for it lacks spirituality and understanding of
human suffering (Buruma& Margalit, 2004, p. 75). There is also an acute awareness that ‘the overt language of race … superseded by the new development of hierarchy of modernity’ does not conceal a ‘link’ that
‘could be inferred by the more privileged observer standing in the transatlantic world’ (Jones, 2010). In an effort to generate critical self- reflexivity on practices of Orientalism and Occidentalism there has been a

practices of
proliferation of discourses on ‘strategic Orientalism’, ‘techno Orientalism’ and ‘military Orientalism’ as discussed below. Keith Krause and Andrew Latham (1998) argue that

‘strategic orientalism’ constitute the ‘foundation of Western security culture’ (Krause &
Latham, 1998, p. 41). They assert that strategic orientalism is premised on the ‘pervasive and
axiomatic belief that the West (or occasionally the United States) as a civilization has a special
role to play in global security affairs’’ (Krause & Latham, 1998, pp. 41, 37). This is based on ‘a reading of the politico-strategic objectives and purposes of Third World
states that isinformed more by Western fears and prejudices than by the realities of politics in these
states’ (Krause & Latham, 1998, p. 38). The deep-rooted fear of the attacking Asian hordes and their ability to industrialize and develop sophisticated weapons reinforces twenty-first century concerns
about the ‘Rising East’. This ‘phenomenon of imagining Asia and Asians in hypo-or hypertechnological

terms in cultural productions and political discourse’ is understood as ‘techno-Orientalism’ (Roh et

al., 2015, p. 2). Practices of techno-Orientalism driven by ‘imperial aspirations’ and ‘appetites of consumerist societies’ are ‘infused with the languages and codes of the technological and futuristic’ and in ‘digital

spaces abound with reinscribed racial tropes and stereotypes; these are sites in which racialization is more likely reinforced than challenged’
(Roh et al., 2015, p. 14). Scholars developing the concept of techno-Orientalism observe its ‘growing prevalence in the Western cultural consciousness’ and suggest that the ‘US techno

Orientalist imagination has its roots in the view of Asian body … as a form of expendable
technology’ (Roh et al., 2015, pp. 7–11). Nevertheless they insist that the scope of techno-Orientalism is ‘expansive and bi-directional’ and ponder on the ‘danger that Asian and Asian American
creators … might internalize techno Orientalist patterns and uncritically replicate the same dehumanizing model’ (Roh et al., 2015, pp. 3, 7). But unlike strategic Orientalism and techno-Orientalism, Military

Orientalism is described as an exercise undertaken to investigate the mental baggage of Western consciousness accumulated from an interest in ‘non-Western warfare’ (Porter, 2013, pp. 16–17).The
endeavor of military Orientalism is to unpack the ‘range of assumptions and myths through
which Westerners gaze on the military East and engage in a critical dialogue with our own
preconceptions’ (Porter, 2013, pp. 16–17). It encourages Westerners to voice their own ‘fears about
themselves, their survival, identity and values, through different visions of non-Western
warfare’ (Porter, 2013, p. 21). Military Orientalism issues a warning against reducing military history to a morality play (Porter, 2013, p. 75). But it is open to the idea that our common experiences of
suffering can help cultivate a ‘source of critical self-reflection to perhaps nurture some understanding of the ‘intimacy of the relationship’ (Naeem & David, 2004, p. 187; Nandy, 1983). In investigating the intimacy
of a relationship it might be possible to glean and ‘retrieve recessive images and practices’ that have been historically constituted through a network of social relations and processes (Naeem & David, 2004, p.
191). These might present creative opportunities to move beyond ‘policing boundaries of self as an exclusive and homogenous space’ and instead ‘appreciate and claim the self that exists as part of the other
beyond those boundaries’ (Naeem & David, 2004, p. 204). Porter insists on ‘the interactive and power-political nature of war, which has a culture of its own that can change all parties to a conflict’ (2013, p. 55).
Porter claims that, ‘paradoxically, war can drive cultures closer together’ (2013, p. 33). This is because, ‘war … is not simply a clash of Others, made possible by an ignorant horror of difference. The warrior looks
out at the enemy and sees men who are, in crucial respects, recognizably like himself’ (Porter, 2013, p. 34). He also argues that an engagement with, ‘the foreign “Other” can be treated as a superior model to

But this hopeful promise of Military Orientalism has not stemmed the tide
inform self-examination’ (2013, p. 108).

of populist discourses deploying the dynamic of difference between ‘The West and the Rest’ in
the aftermath of the Cold War to wage and perpetuate a global War on Terror. On the
contrary it is possible to argue that there is deliberate and contingent deployment of a
‘decivilizing rhetoric that blends irrational, aggressive, rigid, paranoid and exceptionalist
discourses to demonize Other-ness’ and give ‘unwarranted authority and autonomy’ to
‘militarist and imperialist discourses of national security’ (Taylor, 2007, p. 670). There is
‘sustained use of decivilizing imagery’ that ‘represents the United States as a virtuous nation
reluctantly but legitimately fulfilling its divine mandate to use civilized reason and superior
force’ vis-a vis ‘nuclear capable and aspiring nations in Asia, Africa and the Middle East’
depicted in a ‘racist, sexist language that reproduces colonial ideology. As such it rejects the
authority and legitimacy of these nations as potential possessors of nuclear weapons and
solidifies continued dominance by the United States of the nuclear strategic environment’ (Taylor,
2007, p. 685). The strength of these populist discourses reinforcing a dynamic of difference and denial is exhibited with the contemporary ‘malpractice’ of the Trump administration to not respect the nuclear deal
negotiated with Iran (Kimball, 2018). Nuclear weapons have long been regarded as ‘a new technological deity’ and ‘a divinely offered gift that endorsed American exceptionalism and imbued its creators with God-
like power and the mission to restore order and justice in a fallen world.’ (Taylor, 2007, p. 677). Gabrielle Hecht (2012) defines nuclear exceptionalism as ‘insistence on an essential nuclear difference – manifested
in political claims, technological systems, cultural forms, institutional infrastructures, and scientific knowledge’ and insists ‘nuclear exceptionalism could be made, unmade, and remade’ as ‘for all efforts at making
nuclear things exceptional, there were opposing attempts to render them banal’ (Hecht, pp. 6– 8). It is important to bear this in mind as this pernicious dynamic of difference and exceptionalism becomes even
more acute with current US President Donald Trump’s everyday populist declarations. He is on record for stating that the US will be at the ‘top of the pack’ ‘until such time as the world comes to its senses

Trump (2017) claims ‘there are dire

regarding nukes’ (Holland, 2017). In his recent visit to Poland ‘to summon the courage and the will to defend our civilization’

threats to our security and our way of life’ and argues, ‘the fundamental question of our time
is whether the West has the will to survive.’ There is little doubt in his mind of the ‘triumph’ of the West (Holland, 2017). It is therefore helpful to pause in
this tumultuous ‘history of the present’ and suggest that ‘every identity owes a debt to alterity’ (Naeem & David, 2004, p. 8). Thus it is interesting to observe how the existing literature on ‘dynamic of difference’

Techno Orientalism and Military

between Orientalism and Occidentalism has expanded its arsenal with a more complex conceptual apparatus of Strategic Orientalism,

Orientalism to helps us grasp the everyday practices of techno-racial dynamic of differences

that cultivate and nurture techno-racial stereotypes. These stereotypes more often than not
dictate modes of behavior that make the Other ‘a monster that must not only be defeated but
also utterly destroyed … an enemy who no longer must be compelled to retreat into his
borders only’ (Schmitt, 2007). It is this ‘dynamic of difference’ with its persistent desire to annihilate the Other, makes one wonder, whether it is not a complementary sub-text for an increasingly
alarming and growing superstructure of a ‘dynamic of denial’ in weapons control? A dynamic of denial so petulant that it casts its shadow in
celebrating the recent success of a Nuclear Weapons Ban Treaty (2017). Dynamic of denial A landmark Nuclear Weapons
Ban Treaty was agreed upon by 122 countries on July 7, 2017. This significant agreement did not receive much coverage by the press in the US, leading Hugh Gusterson (2017) to question: ‘The nuclear weapons

Gusterson further observes how the Washington Post ‘undercut the nuclear
ban treaty (not) in the news?’

weapons ban story by shrinking it to postage stamp scale’ while ‘the New York Times story
renders almost invisible the 122 countries, mostly from the Global South, that signed the
treaty.’ He notes how ‘one hundred and twenty-two largely non-Western countries
negotiated and signed the treaty, but almost all the talking in the New York Times is done by
Americans and Europeans. If we want to know what those black and brown diplomats were
thinking, we will have to look somewhere other than the New York Times.’ This taking to task by Gusterson of US
mainstream newspapers that ‘marginalize certain stories or frames them in ways that neutralize and undercut them’ is not an unusual exercise. Scholars such as Dan Plesch (2016) and Chris Smith (1984) too have

within the discipline of International Relations and its leading academic journals
been writing to contend that

there is a neglect of the contribution of Global South towards arms control and disarmament
(Plesch, 2016, pp. 1203–1218; Smith, 1984, pp. 892– 910). To quote Dan Plesch (2016) there is ‘an intellectual gap in which the Global South’s role in setting the disarmament agenda and shaping UN-backed policy
responses to disarmament issues have gone unnoticed’ (Plesch, p. 1204). Chris Smith (1984) observes, ‘Despite the numerous difficulties of ‘on-site’ disarmament research and activism, it does not follow that the
Third World is a cultural or intellectual desert in the field of armament or disarmament’ (Smith, 1984, p. 908).

Outweighs;
we1] root cause – othering justifies mass atrocities and things like nuclear
strikes – there’s a reason why western quote unquote “civilized” nations
haven’t nuked each other
2] value to life – extinction bad presumes value to life, but otherization is
dehumanizing and destroys that – means it comes first
3] probability – nukes haven’t been used since 1945, but otherization happens
every day
 2
CP: States ought to eliminate the Non-Proliferation Treaty.
Wesley 06 Michael Wesley, 20 Aug 2006, “It's time to scrap the NPT,” Australian Journal of International Affairs, 59(3), 283–
299. doi:10.1080/10357710500231230, sjbe

Clearly the NPT’s days are numbered; the major policy challenge is how to design a more stable and effective nuclear weapons regime in a post-NPT
world. Unlike the NPT, an
effective new regime would concentrate mainly on the nuclear weapons
states, and return the attention of the international community to the important issues
surrounding the possession, storage and possible use of nuclear weapons. Once the
inevitability of limited proliferation is accepted, it will free up the resources and attention
needed to develop more traditional and stabilising arms control agreements. As several participants in
the debate over proliferation have noted, the stakes are too high with nuclear weapons to rely on conventional risk analyses (Sagan and Waltz 1995).
For this reason, it is dangerous to rely on a regime whose shortcomings are unlikely ever to be remedied. It
is time to let the NPT go,
and begin work on a regime that has a better chance of keeping ours and succeeding
generations free of the horrors of nuclear war.

No more NPT means global prolif

Coe and Vaynman 15 (Andrew J. Coe, Assistant Professor at the School of International Relations of the University of
Southern California (USC) and an adjunct member of the research staff of the Institute for Defense Analyses, and Jane Vaynman,
Associate Director of the Institute for Security and Conflict Studies and Research Instructor at the Elliott School of International
Affairs, Ph.D. in Government from Harvard University, co-founder of the Nuclear Studies Research Initiative, Stanton Nuclear
Security Fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations, held positions with the Bureau of Arms Control, Verification, and Compliance at
the U.S. Department of State and at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, B.A. in International Relations from Stanford
University with honors in security studies from the Center for International Security and Cooperation, University of Chicago Press on
behalf of the Southern Political Science Association Volume 77 Number 4, October 2015. “Collusion and the Nuclear
Nonproliferation Regime.” http://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/10.1086/682080.pdf?acceptTC=true)

We develop and test a theory of the origins and enforcement of the nonproliferation regime, and the roles of the NPT within it, based on
our analysis of a game-theoretic model of proliferation that is tailored to the Cold War context in which the regime was born. Our model implies that widespread

nonproliferation could only be possible if the superpowers colluded to enforce it. Their
enforcement would be effective because of the power and influence they possessed over most
other states; collusion would be necessary because otherwise one superpower might exploit and undermine the other’s attempt to stop an aspirant.1 Despite the ability of
the superpowers to enforce nonproliferation, we show that their willingness to do so depends critically
on their perceptions of the consequences of proliferation. The origins of the regime can then be traced to a shift in these perceptions
documented by historians. Initially, each superpower saw the spread of nuclear weapons to certain of its own clients as a way to strengthen its side against the other’s. Our model demonstrates that the

experience taught the superpowers that states could

superpowers cannot collude to enforce nonproliferation while they hold these views. In time,

also substitute nuclear weapons for their patronage and subsequently gain autonomy. We show that, under the right conditions, this revised conception can
motivate the superpowers to jointly try to stop proliferation These conditions are that the necessary enforcement cannot be too expensive for the superpowers and the monitoring of states’ nuclear programs and
of the superpowers’ own fidelity to collusion must be reliable enough. We argue that enforcement is affordable only if many states support nonproliferation and so do not have to be coerced into compliance.

the NPT’s roles are to bolster monitoring, to signal that the needed enforcement will be modest, and to coordinate states’
Under this theory,

expectations and behavior on nonproliferation rather than the widespread proliferation that might
otherwise result. We proceed to test three observable implications of our theory. First, we should actually observe the superpowers colluding with each other on nonproliferation concerns and pressing each other
to uphold their side of the collusion. We examine the declassified record of private superpower interactions, both during the NPT negotiations and on occasions when a new nuclear aspirant surfaced, and find

ample evidence of this collusion. Second, the superpowers should apply pressure as needed to induce states to join the NPT. To test this,
we present a new data set of all those states judged by the superpowers to be at risk of pursuing nuclear weapons, with information on the measures (if any) the superpowers used to pressure these states to join

they generally applied pressure when states

the treaty. Consistent with the theory, we find that though the superpowers’ efforts were not always successful,

did not join the treaty, and we found no evidence of any attempt by either superpower to undermine the other’s pressure. Third, upon discovering a
state’s nuclear weapons program, the superpowers should attempt to coerce that state back into
compliance. We present data on all known cases in which a state’s possible transgression was detected,measure the superpowers’ responses to these cases, and also assess instances in which a
superpower assisted such a nuclear aspirant state or exploited the other’s pressure. The data generally support the theory: in most cases, the superpowers intervened forcefully to correct errant states. In no case
did a superpower assist a state with a nuclear weapons program, and we again found no evidence of any attempt by either superpower to undermine the other’s pressure. There are two other general theories of

the nonproliferation regime and the NPT. The “cartel” theory holds that some of the “nuclear haves” coerced or bribed the “nuclear have-
nots” into nonproliferation in order to maintain their nuclear oligopoly and preeminence (Swango 2009; Verdier 2008). A more common theory holds that the NPT represents a
“grand bargain,” with two aspects: first, the nuclear haves promise nuclear energy assistance and eventual nuclear disarmament in exchange for the nuclear have-nots eschewing nuclear weapons; and second,
each have-not goes without weapons so long as the rest do and accepts international safeguards to assure others of this.2 Neither theory is in accord with the evidence we present, and each leaves important
questions unanswered. If the cartel theory is right, then the superpowers should have had to coerce many more states than the few in our data set. Why would so many states willingly go along with an instrument
that only served to oppress them? If the benefits of nonproliferation were worth the costs of enforcing it, why did the superpowers not do it sooner, before China and France got nuclear weapons? If the grand
bargain theory is right, many more nuclear have-nots should have defected from the regime, since some have-nots got nuclear weapons and the nuclear haves neither disarmed nor conditioned energy assistance
on regime membership (Fuhrmann 2012; Swango 2014). How exactly would the bargain be enforced should some have-not decide it favored obtaining nuclear weapons even at the cost of access to nuclear energy
assistance and other states following suit once it was detected? Our theory provides a synthesis of the cartel and grand bargain views that answers these questions and is consistent with the evidence. Most

states voluntarily adhered to the regime because they preferred widespread nonproliferation to widespread proliferation, in line with the grand bargain theory. The few that would
have risked widespread proliferation in order to get their own nuclear weapons were prevented
by the superpowers from “spoiling” the regime, in line with the cartel theory. But the superpowers were willing to collude and bear the costs of
enforcement only because there were relatively few spoilers that had to be coerced, and only belatedly, once the superpowers realized that widespread proliferation would be injurious to their interests. The
principal contribution of our work is to show how the constellation of states’ interests in nuclear weapons and expectations about the extent and consequences of future proliferation gives rise to the regime. By
contrast, most prior scholarship has focused on four particular elements within this constellation. First, and most closely related, Kroenig (2009, 2010, 2014) develops a theory of individual states’ attitudes toward
other states’ proliferation, in which a state disfavors proliferation to other states over which it can project power. While this theory implies that the superpowers will see benefits to nonproliferation, it does not
recognize the necessity of collusion to their ability to enforce it or the importance of other states’ voluntary compliance to the superpowers’ willingness to enforce it. It also does not explain why the regime’s
establishment was delayed. A second body of work analyzes the efficacy of various means of enforcing nonproliferation, including safeguards (Fuhrmann 2012), supply controls (Fuhrmann 2009a, 2012; Kroenig
2009, 2010; Montgomery 2005), economic sanctions (Miller 2014b; Solingen 2012), preventive attack (Bas and Coe 2012; Debs andMonteiro 2014; Fuhrmann and Kreps 2010), and security guarantees (Monteiro
and Debs 2014). However, these studies do not elucidate how expectations about the extent and effects of future proliferation influence the superpowers’ willingness to undertake these costly measures. Third,

historians have documented the superpowers’ collusion on nonproliferation , the shift toward it in the mid-1960s,
and the effect this had on negotiations for the NPT, but they cannot explain why this shift enabled the regime’s creation (Brands 2006, 2007; Gavin
2004, 2010; Popp 2014). Finally, recent research examining individual states’ interests in nuclear weapons and capacities for obtaining them appears to take for granted states’ expectation that proliferation will be
rare (Hymans 2006, 2012; Paul 2000; Solingen 2007).3 Many of these studies conclude that the regime has had little effect on nonproliferation (Sagan 2011). However, as we will explain, our theory gives rise to an
alternative interpretation of this evidence, one in which the regime substantially reduced proliferation. The next section describes our theory and elaborates on its synthesis of previous views. We then turn to the
empirical evidence and the results of our tests. The final section discusses the broader implications of our results for previous research on the regime. A Theory of the Nonproliferation Regime We will first describe
the assumptions of the model we use to formalize states’ interactions over proliferation. We will then establish the conditions for a nonproliferation regime to exist in equilibrium, showing that it must entail the
superpowers colluding to stop certain states from getting nuclear weapons. These conditions enable us to synthesize the cartel and grand bargain views of the NPT, to explain why the NPT came about when it did,
and finally to elucidate the specific roles the NPT plays in the viability of the nonproliferation regime. Proofs of the propositions can be found in the online appendix. Model setup Two superpowers, US and SU, and
a finite set of other states, S, which includes clients of the United States (SUS⊂S) and of the Soviet Union (SSU⊂S), interact repeatedly over time. In the first period, all of the states simultaneously decide whether
to initiate a nuclear weapons program, and the period ends. In the next and all future periods, a state’s choice to start a program in the last period is revealed with probability j.4 Each superpower then
simultaneously decides whether to allow each revealed state (if there is any) to continue its program, paying a cost c > 0 for each state it tries to stop. A superpower’s choice to allow a state to continue is revealed
with probability t, but it is otherwise known only to the superpower and that state. All of the states that do not currently have an ongoing nuclear weapons program then simultaneously decide whether to start
one. If any state began a program in the previous period, and it went undetected in this period or was detected but either superpower chose to allow it, then its program now succeeds, and that state is observed
to acquire nuclear weapons, which it retains permanently. If instead both superpowers tried to stop the state, then its program ends, and the state loses the value of the resources invested in it, worth d > 0.
Payoffs are realized, and the period ends. The structure of the game assumes that the superpowers— and only the superpowers—are capable of stopping a state that has chosen to seek nuclear weapons from
getting them.5 This capability derives fromthe unique power and influence the superpowers wield over other nations. Each can more easily detect and more severely punish a proliferant than any nonsuperpower
or even group of such states, and they can do this at lower relative cost. Each superpower is capable of persuading or compelling many other states to support a proliferant’s punishment, making it even more
severe. This capability would be most formidable when dealing with each superpower’s own clients: preferential trade arrangements, diplomatic support, assistance with nuclear technology, transfers of arms,
stationing of the superpower’s own forces in-country, and even guarantees of security could all be ended as punishment for seeking nuclear weapons. The empirical record of superpower attempts to stop
proliferation, described in the next section, shows that the threat of these punishments has usually been effective. However, the game’s structure also presumes that neither superpower can stop proliferation
unilaterally. The same power and influence that makes a superpower a superb punisher also renders it uniquely able to undermine other states’ attempts at punishment. A superpower can replace much of what a
state might lose due to other states’ attempts to punish it, whether markets for trade, diplomatic recognition, arms transfers, or even a security guarantee. It could assist the proliferant with its nuclear program or
even defend it from attack. Even if a state’s punishment came at the hands of its patron superpower, the other superpower could offer its own services to the newly needy state and thereby replace its former

A state seeking nuclear weapons, and a superpower enabling it to do so,

patron.Thus, the superpowersmust collude to stop a state from getting nuclear weapons.

would obviously have strong incentives to conceal their actions so as to prevent others from reacting adversely. The possibility that
these might go undetected is why the states’ and the superpowers’ decisions are each treated as simultaneous and revealed only with some probability. Each state must decide whether to pursue nuclear
weapons while not knowing whether other states are at that moment doing so. It might learn of another state’s program before it succeeds, giving it a chance to react accordingly, or it might remain in the dark
until that state’s program succeeded and it revealed the new capability. Similarly, a superpower must react to the discovery of a state’s program while not knowing how the other superpower is reacting. All
players discount the future by d > 0, and all payoffs are common knowledge. Let St N be the set of states that have nuclear weapons at the end of period t. The per-period payoff of each state j∈S is vj(St N). We

if any
assume that, for any j ∈S, T ⊂S, and k ≠ j, vj(T) ≥ vj(T ∪ fkg): for any given state, the spread of nuclear weapons to other states is (weakly) bad. We also make the following “breakdown” assumption:

state gets nuclear weapons, and the superpowers will not collude to prevent any other state from following, then all states that do not have
nuclear weapons will seek them immediately, and SN p S will be the unique equilibrium outcome. In effect, if proliferation gets
started and is not stopped, then it will snowball.6 This nuclear domino theory was, and is, widely believed, at least among US
policy makers, and there is now substantial evidence for it (Miller 2014a). The per-period payoffs of the superpowers are vUS p p(St N) 1 a i(St N) 2 lUS(St N)
and vSU p 2p(St N) 1 a½ 2i(St N) 2 lSU(St N). These represent the two different effects that proliferation can have on the superpowers’ interests, termed inter-alliance effects and intra-alliance effects, with the

relative importance of the latter given by a. First, proliferation may alter the balance of power between the superpowers’ alliances, represented by p(·).
Because nuclear-armed clients would be stronger, the spread of weapons to a superpower’s clients might strengthen its side relative to the other superpower’s. The change in sign of p(·) between the superpowers
reflects the fact that what strengthens one side’s relative power must weaken the other’s. We assume that, for any T ⊂S and j ∉ T, p(T ∪ fjg) ≥ p(T) if j∈SUS, and p(T ∪fjg) ≤ p(T) if j ∈SSU. In other words, the spread
of nuclear weapons to one superpower’s ally (weakly) shifts the inter-alliance balance of power in that superpower’s favor.7 The second effect of proliferation is to alter the balance of power within each
superpower’s alliance, represented by the bracketed terms in the superpowers’ payoffs. A client that got nuclear weapons would no longer need to rely so heavily on its superpower patron, as its nuclear arms
would partially substitute for a patron’s protection. Thus, a nucleararmed client might be more assertive of its interests within the alliance or seek more autonomy from it. On the one hand, the patron’s loss of
influence over a newly nucleararmed client would be good for the other superpower, who would face a less cohesive opposing alliance and possibly find common interests with the erstwhile client. This is
represented by i(·), which can be thought of as the total US influence over all states with respect to issues where US and Soviet interests are directly opposed. The sign of i(·) changes between the superpowers
because one’s loss of influence on such issues must be the other’s gain. We assume that, for any T ⊂S and j ∉ T, i(T ∪ fjg) ≤ i(T) if j ∈ SUS, and i(T ∪ fjg) ≥ i(T) if j ∈ SSU. That is, the spread of nuclear weapons to one
superpower’s ally is (weakly) bad for that superpower and (weakly) good for the other, as the ally may now act less consistently with the interests of its patron superpower and more consistently with those of the
other superpower.8 On the other hand, the patron’s loss of influence is not fully recouped by the other superpower, because newly nuclear-armed states achieve greater autonomy from both superpowers and so
may pursue interests that neither superpower supports. Proliferation can thus shift influence, not just from one superpower to the other but from the superpowers to the other states. This is represented by the
functions lUS(·) and lSU(·), which can be thought of as each superpower’s loss of influence over nuclear-armed states on issues where the superpowers’ interests are not opposed. For any T ⊂ S and j ∉ T,

A state’s
lUS(T∪fjg) ≥ lUS(T) and lSU(T∪fjg) ≥ lSU(T), so that these losses (weakly) grow as nuclear weapons spread. Power and influence, as we use the terms here, should be construed quite broadly.

acquisition of nuclear weapons can affect a superpower’s interests in many ways: deterring the
superpower from using military force against that state ; reducing its ability to coerce that
state; triggering regional instability that might entrap the superpower or require its mediation; undermining the superpower’s alliance structure
by reducing the value of or need for its security guarantees; and absorbing strategic attention that a superpower might

otherwise devote to other states; all in addition to the possibility of generating further
proliferation (Kroenig 2009, 2010, 2014). Each of these can be understood in terms of p(·), i(·), and l· (·). As examples, the risk of entrapment increases l· , while the reduced ability to coerce a
nuclear-armed Soviet client may decrease p (the Soviet alliance is more powerful) but increase i (the freed client may drift toward the United States). For convenience, we normalize p( ∅), i(∅), lUS(∅), and lSU(∅) to
zero. We also assume that p(S) pi(S) p 0 and lUS(S) plSU(S) p l(S): if proliferation goes from zero to universal, the many resulting gains and losses in power and competitive influence for each superpower will cancel

any momentary shift in

out, and each will suffer the same total loss of noncompetitive influence. Finally, we assume that, for any T ⊂ S, (1 1 d) ∣i(T)∣ ≤ (d2 =1 2 d)l(S). That is,

influence between the superpowers due to some states getting nuclear weapons is no larger
than the loss of influence that would result from permanent universal proliferation. Collusion and
nonproliferation We look for a perfect Bayesian equilibrium in which no state seeks nuclear weapons.9 We require that no individual state have an incentive to deviate from nonproliferation, as is standard, but
additionally that no coalition of states drawn from S and either superpower have an incentive to deviate together. A regime that managed to keep individual states in line but that could not prevent a concerted
breakout by a group of “spoilers,” possibly aided by a superpower, would not last long. Let S1 be composed of every state j ∈ S such that vj(j) 1 d jvj(S) 1 (1 2 j)vj(j) 1 d2 1 2 d vj(S) ≥ 1 1 2 d vj(∅). As we will
explain,10 S1 is the set of potential spoilers. Proposition 1. There is a universal nonproliferation equilibrium if and only if, for all j∈S1 , T ⊂S1 , and a∈ fUS, SUg: jd ≥ (1 2 j) (1 1 d)vj(j) 1 d2 1 2 d vj(S) 2 1 1 2 d vj(∅) ;
(1) 1 1 2 d va(∅) 2 ∣T ∣c ≥ va(T) 1 d(1 2 t) ∣T∣ va(T) 1 d 1 2 (1 2 t) ∣T ∣ ½ va(S) 1 d2 1 2 d va(S). ð2Þ If this equilibrium exists, it is enforced by superpower collusion to stop the spoilers. Under this equilibrium, each state
is deterred from seeking nuclear weapons in one of two ways. First, most states are deterred by the fact that their acquisition of nuclear arms would lead to the breakdown of the nonproliferation regime, leading
other states to seek weapons. For these states, the resultant widespread proliferation would be worse than abiding by the nonproliferation regime, even if it meant giving up the chance to be the first, and
temporarily the only, state to acquire nuclear weapons. However, other states—the spoilers—have the opposite preference. These states would actually prefer seeking nuclear weapons, even if all other states
followed, to complying with the nonproliferation regime along with the other states. This preference is formalized in the condition defining S1 . The right side is the value of abiding by the regime, while the left
side is the value of cheating on it: the spoiler enjoys sole possession of nuclear weapons temporarily, but eventually all other states get nuclear weapons as well. Obviously, the spoilers cannot be deterred from
seeking weapons by the threat of the regime’s subsequent breakdown, since they actually prefer this outcome. Instead they are deterred by the prospect that, if they seek nuclear weapons and are detected, the
superpowers will collude to stop them, so that the resources invested in a nuclear program will be lost. In condition (1) above, the left side is the expected cost of pursuing nuclear weapons (sacrificing the
investment d if caught and stopped), while the right side is the expected benefit of going undetected and getting nuclear weapons, over and above the value received from abiding by the regime. Thus, this
condition specifies that, for any spoiler, the expected cost of cheating on the regime outweighs the expected benefit. These spoilers are not just a theoretical possibility. India sought nuclear weapons despite
surely knowing that Pakistan would follow and preferring that it not; it is hard to believe that North Korea would have been deterred from pursuing nuclear weapons if it thought that South Korea, or any other
country, would get them in response. In a counterfactual world without superpower enforcement of nonproliferation, it is easy to imagine other spoilers. For instance, WestGermany, which had to contend with
the massive conventional forces of theWarsaw Pact and the uncertain reliability of its US security guarantee, might have resorted to nuclear arms in spite of the likelihood that other European states would follow.
For their part, the superpowers enforce nonproliferation because the cost of doing so is outweighed by the losses they will suffer from proliferation if they shirk. For each possible set of spoilers, and each
superpower, condition (2) above requires that the superpower’s value of enforcing the regime at least equal its value of shirking, wherein the superpower allows the set of spoilers to get nuclear weapons but
soon faces proliferation by the other states.11 This result synthesizes the grand bargain and cartel views of the nonproliferation regime and also exposes the flaws of each view when considered on its own. The
grand bargain envisions a set of states that agree to eschew nuclear weapons so long as other states also do so. And, indeed, this is an apt description of the way the equilibrium looks from the point of view of the
nonspoiler states. These states prefer nonproliferation to widespread proliferation, are willing to give up weapons themselves to support the former, and will renege only if other states cheat on the bargain. These

In the absence of
states abide by the regime voluntarily rather than being coerced into compliance by the superpowers. However, this in itself is not enough to make the regime viable.

superpower enforcement, the spoiler states would seek nuclear weapons, and in response, other states
would pursue nuclear weapons, and yet more states would acquire weapons in response to
these, so that proliferation would eventually be widespread.12 The grand bargain is thus not robust to spoilers. To make the regime—and
the underlying grand bargain among the nonspoilers—viable, the spoilers must be coerced into nonproliferation, so that it is safe for the nonspoilers to abide by their bargain. From the spoilers’ point of view,
then, the nonproliferation equilibrium looks much more like the cartel: the superpowers collude to strong-arm these states into the regime. The flaw in the cartel view is that because this enforcement is expensive
for the superpowers, it is only worth doing if, by coercing just a few states, the superpowers can make nonproliferation among a much wider set of states possible. Thus, the superpowers are willing to form a
cartel only because many states do not need to be strongarmed into nonproliferation at all. In short, the cartel is needed to render the grand bargain robust to spoilers, and the grand bargain is needed to make
the cartel affordable. The origins and roles of the NPT We first discuss the origins of the NPT in a shift in the superpowers’ perceptions of the effects of proliferation. We then explain how the NPT itself affects the
underlying parameters that govern the viability of the nonproliferation regime. This in turn leads to the observable implications of our theory that are tested in the subsequent section. We use the following result
to make explicit how the regime’s viability is affected by the parameters of our model. Proposition 2. The nonproliferation equilibrium only exists if a, j are high enough and c is low enough, and it is more likely to
exist if t is higher and FS1 F is lower. Recall that a governs the importance of the intra-alliance effects (a superpower loses influence over a nuclear-armed client) relative to the inter-alliance effects (a superpower’s
side gets stronger with nuclear-armed clients) of proliferation. In the limiting case where a p 0, there are no intra alliance effects and proliferation simply increases one side’s power and decreases the other’s by
the same amount, so that proliferation is zero-sum. Then, for any set of states that get nuclear weapons, one superpower will be left at least equally well off by this proliferation. This superpower will be unwilling
to pay the costs of enforcing nonproliferation against these states, and anticipating this, the other superpower will not try either, since enforcement would fail without the first superpower’s help. So, if
proliferation is zero-sum, neither superpower will ever enforce nonproliferation in equilibrium. As a rises from zero, proliferation has increasingly strong intra-alliance effects. Because one superpower’s loss of
influence over a nuclear-armed client is not fully recouped by the other, proliferation becomes increasingly negative-sum. Now, if nuclear weapons spread far enough, both superpowers could be left worse off
because of their net loss of influence. Once a is high enough, the anticipated joint loss of influence from proliferation will outweigh the costs of stopping it and the superpowers will become willing to institute a
nonproliferation regime. Essentially, a controls the size of the net benefits to the superpowers from nonproliferation. The superpowers’ perceived value of a changed over the course of the early Cold War,
explaining why the regime was not instantiated until the late 1960s. In principle, the superpowers could have pushed the NPT forward as early as the 1950s, once both had nuclear weapons and established
alliances and thus something potentially to lose from further proliferation. However, until well into the 1960s, each superpower instead saw substantial advantages to be gained from selective proliferation to
certain of their clients. The United States perceived nuclear cooperation and weapons-sharing with its European allies to be a valuable counter to the USSR’s superior conventional forces, and these initiatives were
prioritized over nonproliferation. As late as the mid-1960s, the US interest in sharing weapons with West Germany in the form of the multi-lateral force (MLF), adamantly opposed by the Soviets, was an important
obstacle to creating the regime (Brands 2007). High-level US officials also privately advocated the consideration of giving weapons to India and Japan, reasoning that this would help to balance the threat from
nuclear-armed China.13 For its part, the USSR greatly facilitated China’s development of the bomb in the 1950s, providing expertise and materials and even building a model weapon intended for China to copy
(Timerbaev 1999). In short, both superpowers focused on the inter-alliance effects as opposed to the intra-alliance effects of proliferation, suggesting that they perceived the importance of the latter (i.e., a) to be
low. The experience of dealing with newly nuclear—and newly obstreperous—allies led the superpowers to reassess the intraalliance effects of proliferation, raising their perceived value of a. The estrangement of
China from the USSR allowed the United States to play one against the other, while the ructions France generated in NATO were surely to the USSR’s liking. However, after ending its alliance with the USSR, China
proselytized for a more radical version of communist ideology that neither superpower favored, while France sought to preserve control over its remaining colonies against both superpowers’ desires for colonial
independence. In the United States, elites increasingly recognized that nonproliferation was needed to limit the superpowers’ joint loss of influence. High-level deliberations after China’s nuclear test led to the
United States dropping its support for the MLF in favor of establishing a nonproliferation regime (Brands 2007). A similar evolution of views took place in the Soviet Union (Potter 1985). With both superpowers
weighing the intraalliance effects of proliferation more heavily, both became more willing to pay the costs of enforcement under a nonproliferation regime, and so the NPT was agreed. Thus, the increase in a

The NPT contributes to the viability of the incipient nonproliferation regime in four ways. First, the inspections that nonnuclear signatories are required to accept increase
explains the origins of the NPT.

the chance that a covert nuclear weapons program will be detected and subsequently stopped (raising j). This decreases the willingness of spoilers to try to

cheat under the regime and thus also renders enforcement cheaper for the superpowers. Second, the same inspections also make it easier to catch a
superpower surreptitiously helping a state with its program or simply allowing it to proceed (increasing t). This increases the willingness of each

superpower to enforce nonproliferation, secure in the knowledge that the other superpower is doing its part and thus that their efforts will be effective, and it
decreases the temptation to enable favored states to get nuclear weapons. Third, the willingness of non–nuclear states to sign the NPT, and thus voluntarily subject themselves to better monitoring, reveals that
most states are not spoilers.14 This lowers the super powers’ perceived costs of enforcing the regime (by decreasing FS1 F), because it enables the superpowers to confirm that only a few holdouts will have to be

the NPT served as a device to coordinate all states on the nonproliferation

strong-armed into nonproliferation. And, finally,

equilibrium, rather than the widespread proliferation that might otherwise result. By leading nonspoilers to expect
nonproliferation to be upheld, it encouraged them to abide by it and contribute to the superpowers’ efforts to enforce the regime, lowering the costs of enforcement (c). Our theory of the nonproliferation regime,

on between the superpowers is

and the origins and roles of the NPT within it, offers at least three observable implications. First, our model assumes that collusi

central to the regime’s establishment and enforcement, so the first implication is that this collusion should have taken place during negotiations
over the regime and in reactions to states’ noncompliance with the regime. H1. The superpowers will collude with one another on nonproliferation concerns and press one another to comply with their side of the

collusion terms. Second, the theory implies that the superpowers should pressure the other states into joining the NPT . If a state refused to
join, it would increase the difficulty of catching it pursuing nuclear weapons covertly, undermine the willingness of other states to join and comply with the treaty, and thereby increase the superpowers’ costs of
enforcing the regime. Since each superpower ought to have more leverage over its own clients than other states, we expect that each would be held responsible for policing its own clients, while the other
superpower would be expected not to interfere in or obstruct this policing. We also expect the superpowers to apply this pressure only when it is actually perceived as necessary to induce a state to join the NPT
and only when it is perceived to have some chance of success. H2. Each superpower will pressure other states, especially its own clients, to join the NPT, focusing its efforts on cases where pressures are likely to
be both necessary and effective, and neither superpower will undermine the other’s efforts. Third, the superpowers should collude to stop any state that is revealed to be (potentially) pursuing nuclear weapons,
as doing otherwise could lead to the breakdown of the regime. Here again, we expect that each superpower would be most involved in the policing of its own clients, while the other superpower would be
expected not to aid the erstwhile client. H3. Each superpower will apply pressure to prevent other states, especially its own clients, from moving toward acquiring nuclear weapons. Neither superpower will offer
assistance to a state suspected to be pursuing a nuclear weapons program.

More nukes solve CBWs and conventional war – also solves power imbalance
because everyone has them
Payne ’11 [Keith B. Payne, PhD, is president of the National Institute for Public Policy and professor and head of the Graduate
Department of Defense and Strategic Studies at Missouri State University (Washington campus). He served as a deputy assistant
secretary of defense and as a member of the congressional commission on US strategic posture. His most recent book is The Great
American Gamble: Deterrence Policy and Theory from the Cold War to the Twenty-First Century (2008). Dr. Payne received an AB
(honors) in political science from UC Berkeley and a PhD (with distinction) from the University of Southern California, “Maintaining
Flexible and Resilient Capabilities for Nuclear Deterrence,” Summer, http://www.au.af.mil/au/ssq/2011/summer/payne.pdf]

Conventional deterrence has been manifestly effective on occasion, but it also has an unfortunate 2,000-year record of
periodically failing catastrophically: most recently, there were no nuclear weapons to deter
war in 1914 and 1939. What followed were approximately 110 million casualties in fewer than
10 combined years of warfare. The subsequent 6-1/2 nuclear decades compare very favorably
to that horrific prenuclear record. Nobel laureate Thomas Schelling makes the material point simply: “One
might hope that major war could not happen in a world without nuclear weapons, but it always
did.” 26 Indeed, we have already been to the “nuclear zero mountaintop.” Nuclear deterrence has helped to prevent a repeat of such
horrors. In a comprehensive examination of the US–Soviet historical record, Ned Lebow and Janice Stein conclude: “The reality of nuclear deterrence had a
restraining effect on both Kennedy and Khrushchev in 1962 and on Brezhnev in 1973. When Superpower leaders believed that they were
approaching the brink of war, fear of war pulled them back.” 27 And, “The history of the Cold War suggests that nuclear deterrence should be viewed as a

powerful but very dangerous medicine . . . As with any medicine, the key to successful deterrence is to administer correctly the proper dosage.” 28 Yes, indeed. There is similar evidence
from the post–Cold War era. In 2009, for example, former Indian army chief Gen Shankar Roychowdhury asked: “Do nuclear weapons deter?” He then answered his own question based on the empirical evidence,

“Of course, they do. Pakistan’s nuclear weapons deterred India from attacking that country after the
Mumbai strikes. . . . It was due to Pakistan’s possession of nuclear weapons that India stopped short of a military retaliation following the attack on Parliament in 2001.” 29 Here we have
India’s army chief explaining precisely what deterred India on two occasions—Pakistan’s nuclear deterrent. The first Gulf War also offers evidence of the

value of nuclear deterrence. It appears that the US nuclear deterrence strategy was key to
deterring the Iraqi use of WMD in the war. In August 1995, the former Iraqi foreign minister, Tariq Aziz, said that Iraq was deterred from using its WMD because
the Iraqi leadership had interpreted Washington’s threats of grievous retaliation as meaning nuclear retaliation. 30 In January 1996, former head of Iraqi military intelligence Gen Wafic al Sammarai said: “Some of
the Scud missiles were loaded with chemical warheads, but they were not used . . . the warning was quite severe, and quite effective. The allied troops were certain to use nuclear arms, and the price will be too

there was no decision to

dear and too high.” 31 Gen Hussein Kamal, Iraqi minister of military industry and Saddam Hussein’s son-in-law, said in 1995: “During the Gulf War . . .

use chemical weapons for fear of retaliation. They realized that if chemical weapons were
used, retaliation would be nuclear.” 32 These few references do not close this case—historical studies rarely are settled definitively. Saddam Hussein himself once said
that “Iraq did not use WMD during the 1991 Gulf War as its sovereignty was not threatened.” 33 This explanation is not necessarily inconsistent with the deterrence explanation, and discerning the truth in his
various statements undoubtedly poses a challenge—during these same interrogations he also said that he invaded Kuwait because the Kuwaiti leader had told a crude joke about Iraqi women. 34 At this point, the

Hussein was indeed deterred from chemical and biological weapons (CBW)
most informed, unclassified analyses of the first Gulf War conclude that Saddam

employment by his fear of US nuclear retaliation. For example, Charles Duelfer, executive deputy chairman of the UN Special Commission on Iraq, has
testified that “The Iraqis did not use these weapons even when they were losing, and I asked them why, and the long and the short of it was that Saddam thought that he would not survive. So the [deterrence]

message worked. Saddam was deterred.” 35 Equally important, well-informed analyses also conclude that other possible nonnuclear deterrence threats,
such as regime change, were not sufficiently credible to deter Saddam Hussein. In short, while conventional deterrence may well be adequate

on some or many future occasions, there is sufficient historical evidence available to demonstrate that nuclear

deterrence has helped to prevent conflict or escalation in the past. It also suggests that, in the absence of some significant
transformation, the absence of credible nuclear threats would increase the risk of deterrence failure in some future cases. This deterrent value of nuclear threats

may be of increasing importance as chemical and biological weapons become potentially

more lethal and more easily acquired; the undeterred use of CBW could destroy the fabric of
society, without nuclear use. This is why the elimination of nuclear weapons would not
eliminate catastrophic threats to civilization, but would preclude nuclear deterrence from
helping to counter such threats. The “mountaintop” vision of “nuclear zero” may well include
the dark potential of leaving unprotected civilians more vulnerable to CBW attack .
 3
The aff doesn’t do anything but replace WMDs – leads to CBW proliferation
Neil Narang, 4/6/2016. Assistant Professor in the Department of Political Science at the University of California, Santa
Barbara, Senior Advisor in the Office of the Secretary of Defense for Policy on a Council on Foreign Relations International
Affairs Fellowship. “All Together Now? Questioning WMDs as a Useful Analytical Unit for Understanding Chemical and Biological
Weapons Proliferation,” The Nonproliferation Review. Volume 22. Issue 3-4. pp. 457-468. Taylor and Francis.

a policy focused on achieving reductions in the global

The first inference that one may be tempted to draw from past findings is that

nuclear stockpile could cause a rise in chemical and biological weapons proliferation as more
states view them as a “poor man's atomic bomb.” As noted above, our findings suggested that states appear to seek
chemical and biological weapons for many of the same reasons as they pursue nuclear
weapons. Furthermore, our findings also indicate that states that do not possess nuclear weapons appear to be
systematically more likely to pursue chemical and biological weapons than states that do
possess them. When combined, it may seem reasonable to suppose that, conditional on some level of demand for one of these types of weapons, reductions in the
global supply of nuclear weapons could cause some states to pursue chemical and biological
weapons as “imperfect substitutes” for the deterrence and compellence benefits of nuclear
weapons. A second inference that one may be tempted to draw is that a strengthened NPT may increase the risk of chemical and biological weapons proliferation. Understood in the terms of our
study, policies and institutions designed to monitor and sanction the unilateral pursuit or

dissemination of nuclear weapons material and technical expertise —like the NPT or the Nuclear Suppliers Group—might
be understood as supply constraints that effectively increase the transaction costs of nuclear
weapons acquisition. Furthermore, previous research has shown that the supply of sensitive nuclear assistance and civilian nuclear assistance are both positively associated with the risk of
nuclear weapons pursuit and acquisition across states and over time.17 When combined, it may seem reasonable to suppose that, given some demand for a “weapon

of mass destruction,” chemical and biological weapons could seem like relatively cheaper
pursuits under a more robust global nuclear nonproliferation regime that further regulates the
supply of nuclear weapons. A third inference that one may be tempted to draw is that reductions in the global supply of nuclear
weapons and a strengthening of the nuclear nonproliferation regime could increase the risk of
chemical and biological weapons pursuit by terrorist groups. If one is willing to assume terrorist
groups aim to influence governments by threatening to impose costs in order to achieve
concessions— whether this be through strategies like coercion, provocation, spoiling, or outbidding—then it may seem reasonable to suppose that limiting the availability
of nuclear weapons might shift the demand to other coercive instruments such as chemical or
biological weapons.18

CBW attacks lead to multiple scenarios of extinction

Kellman 08 (Barry Kellman is the director of the International Weapons Control Center, “Bioviolence: A Growing Threat”, The
Futurist, May-June 2008, http://www.wfs.org/March-April09/MJ2008_Kellman.pdf)

A looming danger confronts the world— the threat of bioviolence. It is a danger that will only grow in the future, yet we are increasingly failing to confront it. With
every passing day, committing a biocatastrophe becomes a bit easier, and this condition will perpetuate for as long as science progresses. Biological warfare is as old as conflict, of course, but in terms of the

If the objective is to
objectives of traditional warfare— gaining territory or resources, compelling the surrender of an opposing army—biological weapons weren’t very effective.

inflict mass death and panic on a mixed population, however, emerging bioweapons offer remarkable potential. We
would be irresponsible to presume that radical jihadists like al Qaeda have ignored said
potential. What’s New in Bioviolence? Bioviolence refers to the many ways to inflict disease as well as the many people who might choose to do so, whether heads of states, criminals, or fanatics.
Fortunately, doing bioviolence is technically far more difficult than using conventional explosives. Natural pathogens like anthrax are difficult to weaponize. Smallpox remains unavailable (presumably); plague is

emerging scientific disciplines—notably genomics, nanotechnology, and

readily treatable; Ebola k i l l s t o o q u i c k l y t o i g n i t e a p a ndemic. But

other microsciences— could alter these pathogens for use as weapons. These scientific disciplines offer profound benefits for humanity, yet there is
an ominous security challenge in minimizing the danger of their hostile application . For exampl e ,
highly dangerous agents can be made resistant to vaccines or antibiotics . In Australia, scientists introduced a gene into
mousepox (a cousin of smallpox) to reduce pest populations—it worked so well that it wiped out 100% of affected mice, even those that had immunity against the disease. Various bacterial agents, such as plague

Diseases once thought to be eradicated can now

or tularemia (rabbit fever), could be altered to increase their lethality or to evade antibiotic treatment.

be resynthesized, enabling them to spread in reg ions where there is no natural immunity . The polio
virus has been synthesized from scratch; its creators called it an “animate chemical.” Soon, it may be resynthesized into a form that is contagious even among vaccinated popu l a t i o n s . Recreation of long
eradicated livestock diseases could ravage herds severely lacking in genetic diversity, damage food supplies , and cause devastating economic losses. Perhaps the greatest biothreat is the manipulation of the flu
and other highly contagious viruses, such as Ebola. Today, scientists can change parts of a virus’s genetic material so that it can perform specific functions. The genomic sequence of the Spanish flu virus that killed
upwards of 40 million people nearly a century ago has been widely published; any savvy scientist could reconstruct it. The avian flu is even more lethal, albeit not readily contagious via casual aerosol delivery. A
malevolent bioscientist might augment its contagiousness. The Ebola virus might be manipulat ed so that i t ki l l s more slowly, allowing it to be spread farther before its debilitating effects altogether consume its
carrier. A bit further off is genetic manipulation of the measles virus—one of the great killers in human history—rendering useless the immunizations that most of us receive in early childhood. Soon , laboratory
resynthesis of smallpox may be possible. Advanced drug delivery systems can be used to disseminate lethal agent s to broad populations . Bioregulators — small organic compounds that modify body systems—
could enhance targeted delivery technologies. Some experts are concerned that new weapons could be aimed at the immune, neurological, and neuroendocrine systems. Nanotechnology that lends itself to
mechanisms for advanced disease detection and drug delivery—such as gold nanotubes that can administer drugs directly into a tumor—could also deliver weaponized agents deep into the body, substantially
raising the weapon’s effectiveness. Altogether, techniques that were on the frontiers of science only a decade or two ago are rapidly mutating as progress in the biological sciences enables new ways to produce
lethal catastrophe. Today, they are on the horizon. Within a decade, they will be pedestrian. According to the National Academies of Science, “The threat spectrum is broad and evolving—in some ways
predictably, in other ways unexpectedly. In the future, genetic engineering and other technologies may lead to the development of pathogenic organisms with unique, unpredictable characteristics.” For as far into
the future as we can possibly see, every passing day it becomes slightly easier to commit a violent catastrophe than it was the day before. Indeed, the rapid pace of advancing science helps explain why policies to

prevent such a catastrophe are so complicated. Bioviolence Jihad? Some experts argue that terrorists and fanatics are not interested in
bioviolence and that the danger might therefore be overblown. Since there have been no catastrophic bioviolence attacks, these experts argue, terrorists lack the intention to make bioweapons.
Hopefully, they are correct. But an enormous amount of evidence suggests they are wrong . From the dawn of biology’s ability to isolate
pathogens, people have pursued hostile applications of biological agents. It is perilous to ignore this extensive history by presuming that today’s villains are not fervent about weaponizing disease. Not a single
state admits to having a bioweapons program, but U.S. int e l l i g e n c e o f f i c i a l s a s s e r t t h a t a s many as 10 states might have active programs, including North Korea, Iran, and Syria. Moreover, many

taboo against inflicting disease might have for nation-states, it is

terrorist organizations have expressed interest in acquiring biological weapons. Whatever weight the

obviously irrelevant to terrorists, criminals, and lunatics. Deterrence by threat of retaliation is essentially
meaningless for groups with suicidal inclinations who are likely to intermingle with innocent civilians. Al -Qaeda and aff i l iat ed I s lami c
fundamentalist organizations have overtly proclaimed their intention to develop and use bioweapons. The 11th volume of
al-Qaeda’s Encyclopedia of Jihad is devoted to chemical and biological weapons. Indeed, alQaeda has acknowledged that “biological weapons are considered the least complicated and easiest to manufacture of all

Al-Qaeda is widely reported to have acquired legal pathogens via publicly

weapons of mass destruction.”

available scientific sources. Before 9/11, al-Qaeda operatives reportedly purchased anthrax and plague from arms dealers in Kazakhstan, and the group
has repeatedly urged followers to recruit microbiology and biotechnology experts . Follow ing th e Ta l iban ’ s
fa l l , f iv e a l Qaeda biologi cal weapons labs in Afghanistan tested positive for anthrax . Documents calculating

aerial dispersal methods of anthrax via balloon were discovered in Kabul, along with anthrax spore concentrate at a nearby vaccine laboratory. According to a
lengthy fatwa commissioned by Osama bin Laden, jihadists are entitled to use weapons of mass destruction against the infidels, even if it means killing innocent women, children, and Muslims. No matter that
these weapons cannot be specifically targeted. “[N]othing is a greater duty, after faith itself, than repelling an enemy attacker who sows corruption to religion and the world.” According to the fatwa, “No
conditions limit this: one repels the enemy however one can.” The sentiment might be reprehen sible, but it is certainly not irrational. Even the most passionate terrorists must realize that conventional attacks are
not bringing the West to its knees. The 9/11 strikes, the bombing of the Madrid and London subways, and numerous smaller attacks have all put civilization on edge, but history marches inexorably forward. A few
thousand people can be killed, yet Western armies still traverse the world, and Western economies still determine winners and losers. From this perspective, the stakes must be raised. Bioviolence is perhaps the
most dire, easiest means to execute existential danger. What Might Bioviolence Accomplish? Envision a series of attacks against capitals of developing states that have close diplomatic linkages with the United
States. The attacks would carry a well-publicized yet simple warning: “If you are a friend of the United States, receive its officials, or suppo r t i t s po l i c i e s , thou sand s o f y o u r p e o p l e wi l l g e t s i c k . ”
How many a t ta ck s in how many c i t i e s would it take before international diplomacy, to say nothing of international transit, comes to a crashing halt? In comparison to use of conventional or chemical
weapons, the potential death toll of a bioattack could be huge . Al though the numbe r of victims would depend on where an attack takes place, the type of pathogen, and the sophistication of the weapons maker,

bioweapons are far

there is widespread consensus among experts that a heightened attack would inflict casualties exceedable only by nuclear weapons. In comparison to nuclear weapons,

easier and cheaper to make and transport, and they can be made in facilities that are far more
difficult to detect. The truly unique characteristic of c e r t a i n bioweapons t h a t d i s t i nguishes them from every other type of
weapon is contagion. No other type of weapon can replicate itself and spread . Any other type of

attack, no matter how severe, occurs at a certain moment in time at an identifiable place. If you aren’t there, you are angry and
upset but not physically injured by the attack. An attack with a contagious agent can uniquely spread, potentially

imperiling target populations far from where the agents are released . A b i o - o ff e n d e r c o u l d i n f e c t h i s minions
with a disease and send them across borders before symptoms are obvious. Carriers will then spread it to other unsuspecting victims who would themselves become extended bioweapons, carrying the disease
indiscriminately. There are challenges in executing such an attack, but fanatical terrorist organizations seem to have an endless supply of willing suicide attackers. All this leads to the most important characteristic
of bioviolence: It raises incomparable levels of panic. Contagious bioviolence means that planes fly empty or perhaps don’t fly at all. People cancel vacation and travel plans and refuse to interact with each other
for fear of unseen affliction. Public entertainment events are canceled; even going to a movie becomes too dangerous. Ultimately, bioviolence is about hiding our children as everyone becomes vulnerable to our

For people who seek to rattle the pillars of modern civilization and perhaps
most fundamental terror: the fear of disease.

cause it to collapse, effective use of disease would set in motion political, economic, and
health consequences so severe as to call into question the ability of existing governments to
maintain their citizens’ security. In an attack’s wake, no one would know when it is over, and no government could credibly tell an anxious population where and when it is
safe to resume normal life. While it is difficult to specify when this danger will strike, there should be no doubt that we are vulnerable to a rupture. Just as planes flying into the Twin Towers on September 11,
2001, instantly became a historical marker dividing strategic perspectives before from after, the day that disease is effectively used as an instrument of hate will profoundly change everything. If you want to stop
modern civilization in its tracks, bioviolence is the way to go. The notion that no one will ever commit catastrophic bioviolence is simply untenable. What Can We Do? How can we confront these growing dangers?
First, we must appreciate the global nature of the problem. Perpetrators from anywhere can get p a t h o g e n s f ro m v i r t u a l l y e v e r ywhe re . Biore s earch labs that onc e were concentrated in about two
dozen developed states are proliferating, expanding the risk that lethal agents could be diverted and misused. The knowledge needed to weaponize pathogens is available on the Internet. An attack can be prep a r
e d t h ro u g h e a s y n e tw o r k s o f transnational communication. Once a bioweapon is prepared, terrorists or other perpetrators from anywhere can slide across national boundaries and release disease
anonymously. Once released, a contagious agent would spread without regard for boundaries, race, religion, or nationality. Public health responses would have to be internationally coordinated. New modes of
international l egal coope rat ion would immediately be needed to investigate the crime. Thus, bioviolence dangers shrink the planet into an interdependent neighborhood. It makes no sense for any particular
country to try to insulate its homeland from these dangers. No missile defense system will p ro t e c t u s f rom b i o v i o l e n c e . Improved border security will not keep disease at bay. National efforts to enhan c
e m ed i ca l p repa redn e s s hav e virtues, but these defenses can be readily circumvented. To prevent bioviolence requires policies that focus on humanity as a species and that are implemented everywhere with
centralized governance. Antibioviolence policies must be global. Ye t , advanc ing ant i -bioviol enc e policies is what the international community does worst. Bioviolence dangers are unnecessarily high because
national and international antibioviolence strategies are gap-ridden, often incoherent, and not globally observed. As a result, we are all virtually naked in the face of unacceptable dangers. No ot her t hreat pre s
ent s such a s tark cont ras t between severity of harm and a failure of leadership to reduce risks. Most important, existing institutional arrangements are inadequate. In sharp contrast to most other global security
challenges, there is no responsible international authority that defines relevant prohibitions and responsibilities, implements policies over time, or evaluates whether obligations are being fulfilled. With regard to
global bioviolence prevent i o n p o l i c i e s , t h e r e ’ s n o b o d y i n charge. No one is responsible; no one is accountable. The absence of authority is profoundly dangerous. Bioviolence prevention and
preparedness requires a sizable orchestra, made up of various instruments, to play complicated music in harmony. Today, there is not a bad “conductor”, there is no conductor at all. The result is cacophony.
Simply stated, bioviolence is the dark s ide of global izat ion, ye t int e rna tional alarms of bioviolence ring nowhere! We need a comprehensive national and international strategy for bioviol enc e prevent ion . [Se
e box: “Five S t r a t e g i e s f o r P r e v e n t i n g B i oviolence,” page 30.] Policies should be pursued within an integrated approach that enables each policy to gain strength from all the others. Such policies are
potentially available and effective, but they demand progressive changes in our global order. The Security Mission Global bioviolence prevention and preparedness policies are imperative, but also imperative is
recognition that the world faces natural disease horrors. Where mass public health challenges are daily phenomena, the risks of terrorists using pathogens must be weighed against more tangible natural threats.
Simply stated, it is illegitimate to insist that every nation adopt policies for preventing human-inflicted disease without acknowledging the silent genocide of natural disease that is responsible for millions of
deaths. But neither is it legitimate to view bioviolence dangers as distractions from efforts to combat natural disease and therefore to put off beneficial measures until those afflictions are defeated. To do so
frustrates forward movement on cost-effective initiatives that could help build an international security architecture for advancing science and health. Thus, bioviolence prevention must be a facet of a broad
international commitment to: 1. Prevent the spread of disease ( e .g. , through publ i c -heal th measures). 2. Enhance protection against and cures for disease (e.g., through vaccination and drug therapies). 3.
Supervise the conduct of biological science. 4. Criminalize unauthorized or improper use of pathogens. From this foundation should flow a policy commitment to the growth of bioscience as a global public good.
Policies to encourage its worldwide spread deserve vigorous support. This governance mission should, therefore, be conceived as a global covenant . As bios c i enc e goe s forward as a fundamental pillar of
human progress, all nations must undertake common responsibilities to prevent bioviolence even as the burdens associated with those responsibilities are differentiated according to wealth and capability. From
everyone according to their abilities—to all for the benefit of all. The United Nations’ Importance The United Nations represents the b e s t venu e fo r a new gove rnanc e platform that can accommodate the need
for an integrated global strategy agains t bioviol enc e . Only the United Nations has the necessary in ternational legitimacy, and only the Uni t ed Nat ions can int egrat e the many sectors—health, law
enforcement, science, military, emergency preparedness—that must devote expertise and resources. A primary consideration here is to minimize any bureaucratic reshuffling. There is certainly no need to modify
or replicate existing capabilities. Many relevant governance tasks are already addressed by one or more international organizations. For example, the World Health Organization should continue to be responsible
for addressing the health implications of a pandemic, whether natural or malevolent. Interpol should continue to be responsible for a d d re s s i n g b i o v i o l e n c e ’ s l aw e nforcement implications. Indeed, the
UN’s role should be only to coordinate the performance of these tasks. Broadly viewed, the United Nations should be able to undertake three functions: First, a specific UN agency should stimulate bioscience
development by incorporating security concerns into the fabric of scientific undertakings and by assisting countries in using bioscience in ways that are consistent with policies for preventing bioviolence. Because
science, development, and security can and must be mutually reinforcing, this agency’s primary responsibilities would be to promote and distribute knowledge and build capacity to fulfill obligations, especially in
developing nations. Second, a UN office should coordinate activities among the relevant international/regional organizations, professional networks, and expert bodies. For example, three major international
organizations focus on health (World Health Organization, Animal Health Organization, and the Food and Agriculture Organization); Interpol and Europol both focus on law enforcement; a large array of
organizations focus on conveyance of dangerous items (e.g., International Maritime Organization, International Civil Aviation Organization). This UN office should be a steering mechanism to engage each of these
orga nizations’ specialized expertise and to identify synergies. Third, a Security Council Committee should be authorized to investigate bioviolence preparations as well as respond and coordinate assistance to a
bioviolence attack. Situations that call for investigation or response arise rarely, but they carry disproportionate significance for international peace and security. The Security Council Committee should not
advance programmatic agendas, but it should be able to wield expertise and political muscle in volatile situations. Its primary mission would be to enable the international community to sustain global order in the
face of a bioviolence challenge. Ever since someone harnessed a new technology to create a weapon with more devastating effects, there has been a link—a double helix—between the progress of science and the
pursuit of security. This is inevitable. These dangers of bioviolence do not a rg u e f o r re l i n q u i s h i n g s c i e n t i f i c progress, but they disprove notions tha t n ew cha l l eng e s can b e e ff e ct ive ly addre s s

Progressing
ed wi th ye s t e rday’ s policies. At bottom is a condition unique to this historical era: Scientific progress is intertwined with escalating malevolence threatening human security.

capabilities improve our l ive s and ye t , inext r i cably, enable truly harmful weapons against humanity. Here are the challenges to
international peace and security at the beginning of the third millennium. Failing to do the right thing in response to these challenges

could have dire consequences for all humanity.

 4
Nuclear weapons deter conventional warfare – they prevent engagement and
escalation. Also proves an independent circumvention DA to the aff – they have
no way to verify that countries get rid of nukes.
Zimmerman 17 Peter D. Zimmerman, 9-16-2017, "Nuclear weapons deter conventional wars," No Publication,
https://gulfnews.com/opinion/op-eds/nuclear-weapons-deter-conventional-wars-1.2091053 SJBE

In recent decades, great powers have fought proxy wars, but since 1945, they have not come
into direct armed conflict. Through the Cold War, nuclear weapons kept the peace in Western
Europe. Only once, during the Cuban missile crisis, did deterrence come close to breaking, but the then United States president,
John F. Kennedy, and Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev and the rest of the world learned well. India and Pakistan have skirmished in
recent decades, but the realisation that a conflict could escalate to nuclear catastrophe has contributed to the rival nations
eventually standing down. The probability that Israel has nuclear weapons is the ultimate guarantor
of its existence. Since the Soviet Union’s first atomic test in 1949, the existence of nuclear weapons in many
hands has not only deterred the use of nuclear weapons, but also made nuclear possessors and their adversaries
think carefully about the desirability of going to war at all. When conflict has broken out, the nuclear
deterrent has limited war aims to those short of total destruction of adversary nations or regime change. That’s why North Korea
has sought nuclear capability so fervently. This is the “porcupine theory”, advanced by, among others, the late strategist Kenneth
Waltz: After Hiroshima and Nagasaki, many states wanted nuclear weapons, not for offensive purposes, but as a hedge against
attack by other nations. If peace is desirable, and it is, this seems, at first, philosophically unappealing; non-proliferation and nuclear
elimination sound so much safer. But with obvious limits, this hedge has served as a practical solution to an intractable problem. It’s
a good thing, then, that the United Nations nuclear treaty is probably going nowhere. For starters, the nuclear powers aren’t on
board: When negotiations concluded on July 7, 122 nations voted for the treaty. But the Netherlands, the only Nato country to
participate in negotiations, voted against it. As CBS News notes, none of the countries “known or believed to possess nuclear
weapons” — the US, Russia, Britain, China, France, India, Pakistan, North Korea and Israel — supports the treaty. Sweden was the
only country with long-standing, close ties to Nato that voted for it. Most states voting for the treaty lack the capability, or significant
interest, in acquiring nuclear weapons. If the proverbial mice decide to bell the cat, success will depend upon the cat’s consent to
wear a bell. And the agreement was rushed: Other international arms-control agreements, such as the prohibitions on chemical and
biological weapons, on nuclear testing, and on strategic arms reduction have taken years and even decades to negotiate. The
nuclear ban was completed after only a few days of negotiation in March and a few weeks in June and July. The treaty’s language is
unhelpful. The preamble includes references to an assortment of humanitarian causes, bearing only the most tangential relationship
to the topic at hand: “Disproportionate impact of nuclear-weapon activities on indigenous peoples”, “disproportionate impact on
women and girls”, and the role of the “Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement”. Though “trust but verify”, as former US president
Ronald Reagan often put it, remains the core of any international arms-control agreement, the UN treaty presents a nebulous
mention that weapons states shall cooperate with a “competent international authority or authorities to negotiate and verify the
irreversible elimination of nuclear weapons programmes”. A “State Party that owns, possesses or controls nuclear weapons ... shall
immediately remove them from operational status” and later “submit to the secretary-general of the United Nations a declaration
that it has fulfilled its obligations”. The mechanics by which nuclear possessor states rid themselves of their weapons are undefined.
For now, the agreement relies on the honour system, rather than enforceable penalties for noncompliance — critical details kicked
down the road to a document that doesn’t yet exist. Even if the document had been perfectly drafted, and had the leaders of the
effort gained a measure of buy-in from nuclear states about their interests, total nuclear abolition remains a bad idea. As former
British prime minister Margaret Thatcher had said, 30 years ago, in a speech delivered in Russia: “ Conventional weapons
have never been enough to deter war. Two world wars showed us that. They also showed us how
terrible a war fought even with conventional weapons can be. Yet, nuclear weapons have deterred not only
nuclear war but conventional war in Europe as well. A world without nuclear weapons may be a dream, but
you cannot base a sure defence on dreams. Without far greater trust and confidence between East and
West than exists at present, a world without nuclear weapons would be less stable and more
dangerous for all of us.” The planet would be safer with far fewer nuclear weapons, but more
dangerous with none; and would be a way to prove all such weapons have been eliminated. Some hydrogen bombs are
small enough to hide in a coat closet — verification of their destruction, in the absence of a yet-to-be-determined mechanism, and in
the absence of a strong international consensus, is impossible. And the loss of the barrier to conventional escalation would be
ruinous. Nuclear weapons cannot be un-invented. If the treaty’s proponents had their way, the world would eventually regret it.

Conventional warfare kills the environment

Palmer 12 Brian Palmer, 2-28-2012, "How Does Warfare Affect the Environment?," Slate Magazine, [Brian Palmer covers science and
medicine for Slate.], https://slate.com/technology/2012/02/how-does-war-impact-the-planet.html, SJBE

The real risk that conventional weapons pose to the environment is through indirect effects.
In May 1943, for example, Royal Air Force pilots blew up a pair of German dams. The resulting
flood destroyed more than 7,000 acres of farmland, inundated 125 factories, and sent water
rushing through several coal mines. U.S. forces used a similar tactic in the Korean War. In 1977, the Geneva Conventions were amended to ban the intentional
breaching of dams in wartime, but only if the attack would cause “severe losses among the civilian population.” Environmental impacts are not mentioned. Another major concern is

the potential destruction of chemical facilities . Chemical plants today hold far larger volumes
of dangerous substances than they used to. According to Czech toxicologist Jiri Matousek, the average sulfuric acid production plant in the 1950s generated
around 10 tons of the chemical per day. By 1990, the average production had increased 200-fold, to 2,000 tons daily. The trains, trucks, and pipelines that carry

our dangerous chemicals have also increased their capacities . One need only observe peacetime accidents to see what terror a bomb
could unleash if dropped on a modern chemical factory. At the Union Carbide plant in Bhopal, India, in 1984, water infiltrated

into a tank holding methyl isocyanate. The mixture caused an explosion that contaminated
the surrounding area, killing thousands. Attacks on chemical plants are entirely possible. President Clinton ordered the bombing of a Sudanese factory in 1998
precisely because he thought it was stocked with dangerous chemicals. Then there are the truly unfortunate incidents in which a desperate leader uses environmental terrorism as a military tactic. The most
famous example is Saddam Hussein, who set fire to hundreds of oil wells on his way out of Kuwait in the first Persian Gulf War. He also dumped 11 million barrels of oil into the Gulf, the largest oil spill in history at
the time. Oil lakes and thick deposits of tarcrete covered the area, and scientists found traces of oil in ants and sand lizards more than a decade later. Warfare can have more subtle effects on the land than huge

plumes of smoke. When Iraqi and American forces took turns crossing Kuwait in the early 1990s, they
upset the natural gravel that holds the underlying soil in place. The result was accelerated
wind erosion, a tenfold increase in sand dune formation, and consequent loss of vegetation
that sustained the animals that occupied Kuwait’s desert and semi-desert regions. Some of war’s impacts are
even less direct. Many conservationists have noted that civil wars in Africa excluded park rangers and

researchers from the field, leaving the already vulnerable gorilla populations exposed to
poachers. All of which brings us back to Steven Pinker’s book. Armies used to defeat each other by killing huge numbers of enemies in direct battle. Today, military
strategists try to undermine the enemy’s war machine with less bloodshed. That usually
means occupying huge swaths of land and destroying the industrial infrastructure. In other
words, as war becomes safer for humans, it may be increasingly dangerous for the planet.

Triggers planetary extinction

Hance 18 Jeremy Hance, 1-16-2018, "Could biodiversity destruction lead to a global tipping point?," Guardian, [eremy Hance is
a wildlife blogger and journalist focusing on forests, indigenous people and climate change. He is the author of Life is Good:
Conservation in an Age of Mass Extinction], https://www.theguardian.com/environment/radical-
conservation/2018/jan/16/biodiversity-extinction-tipping-point-planetary-boundary, SJBE
Rockström agrees that there is no evidence of a planetary tipping point when it comes to biodiversity. According to Rockström, biodiversity decline does not have a hard planetary boundary like, say, climate

biodiversity as a variable that operates “under the hood of the planetary system”
change. Instead he describes

because it influences the stability of our climate, ozone layer and oceans – all of which
Rockström contends have very clear planetary boundaries. “We have never suggested a planetary scale biodiversity tipping point...”
Rockström said. “Instead, the rational for biodiversity as a planetary boundary is that the composition

of trees, plants, microbes in soils, phytoplankton in oceans, top predators in ecosystems…

together constitute a fundamental core contributor to regulating the state of the planet.” According
to Rockström, biodiversity is one of the pillars supporting our planet – and if too much biodiversity is

lost we risk “triggering a tipping point” in our climate or oceans, which in turn could risk
pushing the planet into a new state. “Without biodiversity, no ecosystems. No ecosystems, no
biomes. No biomes, no living regulator of all the cycles of carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, carbon
dioxide and water,” he added. Rockström says biodiversity loss could risk the “safe operating space” for
humans, leaving us in an alien world increasingly hostile to our own survival. For example, life would still survive under apocalyptic climate
change – but we may not. While ecosystems may not fully collapse, scientists have found that some ecosystems can undergo what they are called “regime shifts.” Coral reefs,
overheated by climate change, will shift to a much less productive, much less biodiverse algae-based ecosystem. Climate change, or alternatively humans with chainsaws and fire, can shift forest ecosystems to
grasslands. While none of these ecosystems may wholly collapse, they will look nothing like they did after the shift occurs. Montoya admits that such regime shifts “do actually happen” and is “well established” for
some ecosystems – like forests, coral reefs and Arctic sea ice – though “unclear” if it happens in all ecosystems or only a few. And he adds, perhaps most importantly, that “the mechanisms [of regime shifts] have
nothing to do with biodiversity loss.” Instead, they have been driven by climate change or human actions – such as clear-cutting. Debating definitions It may be that unclear or shifting definitions are at the root of
the dispute. “Fatally, the boundaries framework lacks clear definitions, or it has too many conflicting definitions, does not specify units, and fails to define terms operationally, thus prohibiting application by those
who set policy,” Montoya, Donohut and Pimm write in the paper. But Rockström contends that when understood correctly the planetary boundary framework holds up to scientific scrutiny. He says planetary
boundaries do not mean that humanity can just destroy and upend all the way up to a red line without consequences. “This is of course just nonsense,” he noted, arguing that the planetary boundary for biosphere
integrity is magnitudes more ambitious than the Aichi Targets from the Convention on Biological Diversity, an international agreement set on preserving biodiversity – though already several goals have not been
met. “If the world is able to reduce biodiversity loss below the planetary boundary this would not only require major conservation efforts across the world,” he said, adding that “once inside the safe operating
space, we would of course have to continue on a sustainable pathway.” Rockström said that he believes the disputing researchers have much more in common than their infighting would imply. “We are [all]
working to safeguard biodiversity for sustainable development. We are [all] in the same camp. Complementing each other, they at the ecosystem level, us at the planetary level.” But Montoya and his group stand
by their criticism and are working on a second paper responding to Rockström and his team. While Montoya’s paper does not critique the other eight planetary boundaries in their paper, Montoya told me that
each of the boundaries – even the physical ones – have faced “a lot of controversy.” “They all suffer from the tipping-point problem,” he said, “which we argue promotes a business-as-usual ethos and distracts us
from taking the action that is urgently needed.” In many ways one could argue that the planetary boundary is an easy and simple way to explain environmental impacts to world leaders – few of whom have any
education on ecology or the environment – and the public. But Montoya argues that the planetary boundaries concept is doing more harm than good. “Poor or ill-founded science ultimately brings about
ineffectual policies at best – and potentially highly damaging ones – and erodes trust in scientists,” he said. And this can have real world impacts: Montoya and colleagues point to forest policy in Europe as one
example. “The assumption that there is a critical biodiversity level below which forest functioning will collapse prompted managers [to] plant resilient tree species to climate change, pests, and disease,” Montoya
explained, adding, “this was recommended to avoid reaching a tipping point in forest service provisioning, primarily timber production.” But the recommendations have resulted in endangered old growth forests
and native species, according to Montoya. While the on-going debate over planetary boundaries is deeply academic and wonky, it is not without importance to the public. How we communicate environmental
crises – and the accuracy of the science that underpins that communication – proves more important with every passing year, as the world walks into climate and ecological uncertainty. Yes, life itself survived the
Permian-Triassic mass extinction event – but most species did not. Believe me, humans probably wouldn’t have survived the tens-of-millions of years that followed the Great Dying: oxygen levels were dangerously

Outside the moral

low, food would have been scarce, and the world would have looked largely barren and wasted even as some species and ecosystems managed to survive.

dilemma of extinction, there is no question that if humans push more-and-more species into
oblivion there will be impacts on our society – and they could become catastrophic. Humans
evolved 248 million years later in an Earth that was far more biodiverse and rich, a kind of
Eden of abundance and diversity. But our current actions risk all that – and perhaps ourselves.
Case
 Preempts
their 1AC kritik preempts securitize their 1AC against certain members of the
debate community. The logic of preemption is based off of constructing the
other as an enemy, which not only excludes people from the community but
also results in endless wars and violence.
Jabri 06 Professor of International Politics and the Director of the Centre for International
Relations at the King’s College London [Vivienne, “War, Security and the Liberal State” Security
Dialogue http://sdi.sagepub.com/cgi/reprint/37/1/47]

The practices of warfare taking place in the immediate aftermath of 11 September 2001
combine with societal processes, reflected in media representations and in the wider public
sphere, where increasingly the source of threat, indeed the source of terror, is perceived as the
cultural other, and specifically the other associated variously with Islam, the Middle East and
South Asia. There is, then, a particularity to what Agamben (1995, 2004) calls the ‘state of
exception’, a state not so much generalized and generalizable, but one that is experienced
differently by different sectors of the global population. It is precisely this differential experience
of the exception that draws attention to practices as diverse as the formulation of interrogation
techniques by military intelligence in the Pentagon, to the recent provisions of counter-
terrorism measures in the UK, to the legitimizing discourses surrounding the invasion of Iraq. All
are practices that draw upon a dis-course of legitimization based on prevention and pre-
emption. Enemies constructed in the discourses of war are hence always potential, always
abstract even when identified, and, in being so, always drawn widely and, in consequence,
communally. There is, hence, a ‘profile’ to the state of exception and its experience. Practices
that profile particular communities, including the citizens of European states, create particular
challenges to the self-understanding of the liberal democratic state and its capacity, in the 21st
century, to deal with difference. While a number of measures undertaken in the name of
security, such as proposals for the introduction of identity cards in the UK or increasing
surveillance of financial transactions in the USA, might encompass the population as a whole,
the politics of exception is marked by racial and cultural signification. Those targeted by
exceptional measures are members of particular racial and cultural communities. The assumed
threat that underpins the measures highlighted above is one that is now openly associated
variously with Islam as an ideology, Islam as a mode of religious identification, Islam as a distinct
mode of lifestyle and practice, and Islam as a particular brand associated with particular
organizations that espouse some form of a return to an Islamic Caliphate. When practices are
informed by a discourse of antagonism, no distinctions are made between these various forms
of individual and communal identification. When communal profiling takes place, the distinction
between, for example, the choice of a particular lifestyle and the choice of a particular
organization disappears, and diversity within the profiled community is sacrificed in the name of
some ‘precautionary’ practice that targets all in the name of security .9 The practices and
language of antagonism, when racially and culturally inscribed, place the onus of guilt onto the
entire community so identified, so that its individual members can no longer simply be citizens
of a secular, multicultural state, but are constituted in discourse as particular citizens, subjected
to particular and hence exceptional practices. When the Minister of State for the UK Home
Office states that members of the Muslim community should expect to be stopped by the police,
she is simply expressing the condition of the present, which is that the Muslim community is
particularly vulnerable to state scrutiny and invasive measures that do not apply to the rest of
the citizenry.10 We know, too, that a distinctly racial profiling is taking place, so that those who
are physically profiled are subjected to exceptional measures. Even as the so-called war against
terrorism recognizes no boundaries as limits to its practices – indeed, many of its practices occur
at transnational, often indefinable, spaces – what is crucial to understand, however, is that this
does not mean that boundaries are no longer constructed or that they do not impinge on the
sphere of the political. The paradox of the current context is that while the war against terrorism
in all its manifestations assumes a boundless arena, borders and boundaries are at the heart of
its operations. The point to stress is that these boundaries and the exclusionist practices that
sustain them are not coterminous with those of the state; rather, they could be said to be
located and perpetually constructed upon the corporeality of those constructed as enemies, as
threats to security. It is indeed the corporeal removal of such subjects that lies at the heart of
what are constructed as counter-terrorist measures, typified in practices of direct war, in the
use of torture, in extra-judicial incarceration and in judicially sanctioned detention. We might,
then, ask if such measures constitute violence or relations of power, where, following Foucault,
we assume that the former acts upon bodies with a view to injury, while the latter acts upon the
actions of subjects and assumes, as Deleuze (1986: 70–93) suggests, a relation of forces and
hence a subject who can act. What I want to argue here is that violence is imbricated in relations
of power, is a mode of control, a technology of governmentality. When the population of Iraq is
targeted through aerial bombardment, the consequence goes beyond injury and seeks the
pacification of the Middle East as a political region. When legislative and bureaucratic measures
are put in place in the name of security, those targeted are categories of population. At the
same time, the war against terrorism and the security discourses utilized in its legitimization are
conducted and constructed in terms that imply the defence or protection of populations. One
option is to limit policing, military and intelligence efforts through the targeting of particular
organizations. However, it is the limitless construction of the war against terrorism, its targeting
of particular racial and cultural communities, that is the source of the challenge presented to the
liberal democratic state. In conditions constructed in terms of emergency, war permeates
discourses on politics, so that these come to be subject to the restraints and imperatives of war
and practices constituted in terms of the demands of security against an existential threat. The
implications for liberal democratic politics and our conceptions of the modern state and its
institutions are far-reaching,11 for the liberal democratic polity that considers itself in a state of
perpetual war is also a state that is in a permanent state of mobilization, where every aspect of
public life is geared towards combat against potential enemies, internal and external.