Britain's Nuclear Last Resort

A story has emerged that I find completely fascinating. We're told by the Daily Mail that Gordon Brown has hand-written a "Last Resort" letter of atomic damnation or salvation. Armageddon. To strike or not to strike. Supposedly, the letter has become a traditional means of ministerial indoctrination for our premier, and it's contained in a safe within a safe, a mile below sea level in a British submarine. The letter is to be read solely by the captain of the sub, armed with intercontinental ballistic missiles, and opened only in the event that the Prime Minister, and the anonymous second-in-command have been obliterated by a nuclear attack. Presumably, the letter contains a resounding 'Do it', or an equally resounding 'Don't do it'. One might assume that it's a 50-50 split, depending on individual ethics, raising a thousand unanswerable questions. Tony Blair's letter, we fathom, has since been burned, never read by a living soul. I could go on and on about this. Is it even true? Until now, we've been unaware of this letter, and therefore, cannot be part of the deterrent effect that's so often raised alongside talk of nuclear arms. Why would the submarine be armed in such a way if the letter merely said, 'Firing is now totally pointless, why revenge a matter of inconsequence?' Equally, could the captain choose simply to make his own choice? Perhaps that's precisely what the Prime Minister ordered, thus leaving the fate of millions of innocent people to the whims of a single, however well-trained and well-disciplined, member of the armed-forces. Surely then, nuclear apocalypse might depend upon what he had for breakfast. Look for yourself, I recommend Ron Rosenbaum's piece over at Slate.