In
the early 1980s, a lot of us were worried about what would happen if the United
States and the Soviet Union did, in fact, begin a nuclear war. The policy of
both the US and USSR was “mutual assured destruction,” the acronym of which was,
appropriately, MAD. Both countries enough nuclear weapons to destroy the world
several times over. And with Ronald Reagan as president, a man who had a
reputation for war-mongering and saber-rattling, it seemed like there was no
way to avoid the End of the World. Reagan even announced the SDI, or “strategic
defense initiative,” as a way to destroy Soviet missiles in Earth orbit before
they had a chance to land on our soil. Maybe, then, nuclear war would be
something that we could survive: just get out the lemonade and lawn chairs and
watch the light show in the sky.
As
it turned out, most of Reagan’s statements were saber-rattling. Perestroika
and glasnost were the 1980s Soviet terms that reflected Henry
Kissinger’s détante, French for relaxation. Both sides should just relax
a little. This is what Gorbachev believed, and it led to the crumbling of the
Soviet empire before the end of the decade. Nuclear holocaust remains possible,
especially as Trump single-handedly pulls out of denuclearization treaties, but
nobody seriously expects it, even with a president who makes Reagan look like a
flower child.
In
the early 1980s, everyone was worried about the direct effects of explosions
and radiation. The explosion would kill people for miles around, but the radiation
would kill people for hundreds of miles around, especially since by that time
the nuclear bombs were far larger than the ones dropped on Hiroshima and
Nagasaki.
But
in the background, a brilliant scientist was thinking about other possible
effects. Carl Sagan was a planetary scientist and knew that planetary
atmospheres worked as interacting systems. He did some calculations—simple at
first then more complex—about how much smoke would enter the atmosphere from
the nuclear holocaust. He concluded that there would be enough to plunge the
Earth into darkness. The dust would settle, but not before the Earth had frozen
beyond any hope of recovery. Ice would be everywhere. By the time the soot
absorbed sunlight and melted the snow, life would already have become extinct.
Sagan and colleagues supported this view in a famous paper published in Science. It was the Christmas
issue—Merry Christmas, everybody! A paper immediately followed it in which many
prominent scientists, headed up by the famous eco-alarmist Paul Ehrlich,
explained all the ways in which the cold temperatures would cause the collapse
of natural ecosystems.
Owen Greene and two other writers published a book in Britain, simply titled Nuclear
Winter: The Evidence and the Risks, in 1985.
This
was also right about the time that events of global cooling were being
recognized in the history of the Earth. Three periods of almost total
glaciation of the Earth (“Snowball Earth”) were recognized during the Precambrian time, the most recent one ending just
before the explosion of multicellular life at the beginning of the Cambrian
period. Earth almost became a permanently ice-bound planet on three occasions.
This was also a few years after the initial publication of the theory, now
universally accepted, that an asteroid hit the Earth 65 million years ago and
plunged the Earth into temporary darkness, from which it recovered. This
resulted from one asteroid impact; what might have happened from a
planetary-scale nuclear war?

The
nuclear winter hypothesis was never summarily disproved. However, it slipped
gradually from the attention of scientists and the electorate. Even though nuclear
winter was based on complex mathematical modeling, the model was not complex
enough. It assumed that the smoke would spread uniformly, and the little clear
patches would be spots of warmth that would keep the Earth from falling to the
low temperatures Sagan had predicted. Also, the oceans would freeze, but not
fast enough to prevent them from being a source of heat to the land areas of
the Earth. Nuclear winter moved from being a dead certainty (really dead) to
being a possibility. Meanwhile, nuclear war itself became less and less likely.
This
is why nobody talks much about nuclear winter anymore. But it does illustrate
one important point. In trying to predict the (catastrophic) future, we should
think not only about the direct effects (e.g. blasts and radiation) but the
indirect ones as well. In estimating the likely effects of global warming, we
need to think not only about the warming but the indirect ecosystem effects.