In the last edition of Deep Dive, we learned about how nuclear policymakers speak publicly about their understandings of escalation in crisis situations so that potential foes will understand where they are coming from in the event of a real nuclear confrontation. Better understanding, policymakers hope, will mean fewer surprises and a clearer path to de-escalation before things get catastrophically out of hand.

Nuclear war, however, isn’t the only context in which nuclear policymakers prefer to send clear signals about their aims. Arms control and disarmament efforts also turn on questions of trust and intent, and so negotiators of those agreements also have strong incentives to explain themselves to scholars. This week, we’ll look at Kjølv Egeland’s recent article in the Journal for Peace and Nuclear Disarmament in which he talks to a group of Norwegian wonks who want to be sure that their efforts to put the world on a path to having zero nuclear weapons aren’t misconstrued.

In the late 2000s, the Norwegian government was among the leaders in a movement to jumpstart the international nuclear disarmament agenda by highlighting the danger of nuclear detonation as a humanitarian risk. A nuclear blast, the argument went, would be so devastating to human life that it is irresponsible not to take steps to prevent it in the way we try to prevent, say, famine. With disarmament under the Nuclear Non-proliferation Treaty (NPT) stalled, many were excited by the prospect of reframing nuclear disarmament as part of this humanitarian initiative.

By 2017, the humanitarian approach to disarmament had grown into an effort to adopt a Treaty for the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons (TPNW), which would do just what it said: ban non-weapon state signatories from nuclear weapons activity and set clear deadlines for disarmament by weapon states. The TPNW passed the United Nations  General Assembly, but no nuclear power or NATO member voted for it and it has been ratified so far by only 34 of the 50 countries needed for it to come into force under UN regulations.

Generally speaking, major world powers hate the TPNW. It’s inconvenient for weapons states, and for people who spent their careers working within the framework of the NPT, it’s quite jarring to suddenly have a number of countries clamoring to approach nuclear issues completely differently. As a result, a lot of diplomats and scholars have bad-mouthed the treaty, calling it, in the words of a French diplomat, an “emotional and divisive” outburst, “disconnected from today’s strategic context” that threatens the primacy of the NPT. Basically, the weapons-state argument goes, the TPNW was just a fit of pique from some small countries who couldn’t be asked to think through the consequences of their actions.

When Egeland spoke to the Norwegians present at the genesis of the humanitarian initiative for disarmament, however, he found that they had considered the consequences quite deeply. Former Norwegian Foreign Minister Jonas Gahr Støre told Egeland that the humanitarian approach grew not out of annoyance with the NPT’s processes but out of a belief that the NPT itself was crumbling. With proliferation crises ongoing in North Korea and Iran, and little progress made on disarmament, Støre worried that “the NPT could fall apart if there was not enough ambition to take it forward.” Støre and his colleagues believed that efforts toward disarmament —  one of the pillars of the NPT — needed to be reenergized to ensure that the NPT framework retained its legitimacy going forward.

Similarly, internal Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Affairs documents from the time show that Norwegian diplomats saw the humanitarian approach as an attempt to strengthen the NPT. In one 2013 memo, a diplomat wrote, “The humanitarian focus is not a contradiction of the NPT or other initiatives, but rather a contribution to the fulfilment of the NPT and other international commitments” through emphasizing the shared danger to humanity that nuclear weapons pose. Weapon states are likely to continue opposing the treaty on policy grounds, but, as Egeland demonstrates, concerns from non-weapon states about the future of nuclear weapons are real and deeply held.

Halima Gikandi examined the situation in Sudan one year after popular protests overthrew the country’s ruler of 30 years, Omar al-Bashir. Even after the revolution, American sanctions against Sudan remain in place, choking off prospects for growth. The sanctions date back to the Bashir regime’s involvement in international terrorism in the 1990s, but the US has offered no path for the new government to get out from under them besides a vague suggestion that Sudan should pay a $14.5 billion judgment against the Bashir regime for its role in the 1998 US embassy bombings in Kenya and Tanzania.

Elizabeth Beavers decried the disconnect between the release of “The Afghanistan Papers,” which details the ongoing hopelessness of America’s war effort in Afghanistan, and House Democrats’ decision to authorize more money for the war the same week. The continued expansion of spending on the Afghan war, Beavers argued, stems in part from voters’ apparent indifference to the conflict’s toll.

Tania Karas spoke to Liberian immigrants to the US who stand to benefit from a provision in the National Defense Authorization Act that will grant them a path to green cards and eventual citizenship. Under the law, Liberians who have lived continuously in the US since late 2014, when President Barack Obama designated Liberians eligible for Temporary Protected Status as a result of an Ebola outbreak in Liberia, will be able to apply for permanent residency in the US. President Donald Trump had repeatedly threatened to revoke the temporary orders allowing Liberians who fled from the Ebola virus to remain in the US. Karas gathered responses from Liberians, which were a mix of relief and frustration that the same law that offers them a path to citizenship also funds Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the federal agency charged with harassing Liberians and many other immigrant communities.

The holidays are upon us, which means it’s time to bring back the one true classic piece of holiday security studies content: Santa Clausewitz.

Space Force’s first major innovation will be the heretofore unimaginable square challenge coin.

Sometimes the worst crime you can commit as a reporter is to make jokes in front of someone like (now-former) Energy Secretary Rick Perry who absolutely refuses to believe that you’re joking.

On the other hand, sometimes a newsmaker’s inability to recognize a joke sheds light on the quality of their analysis overall.

Last week in impeachment.

The film adaptation of this story will almost certainly be called "Bisque-tic River."