Published: April 2, 2026

On December 23, 2025, the Pentagon released its annual 2025 China Military Power Report to Congress—a reminder that America is still trying to deter tomorrow with yesterday’s force. The report assesses China’s stockpile stayed in the low 600s through 2024 but remains on track to have over 1,000 nuclear warheads by 2030, while Russia continues to brandish tactical (non-strategic) nuclear weapons to shield conventional aggression. Yet U.S. deterrence planning still assumes that sufficiency against one peer will scale to two.

Within the bomber community, personnel are trained to operate and make decisions amid uncertainty. Deterrence cannot rely on idealized scenarios. Washington, however, continues to plan and budget as if deterring one peer at a time is adequate to maintain peace. Since the Nixon administration elevated “strategic sufficiency,” the U.S. has preferred a survivable second-strike posture over matching adversary numbers, even as U.S. Strategic Command (STRATCOM) Commander Adm. Charles Richard testified in 2020, “We do not seek parity.”

That posture of sufficiency made sense when the U.S. faced one major nuclear superpower at a time. It makes less sense when the U.S. must deter two nuclear peers, potentially in overlapping crises while also accounting for a third in North Korea. The 2023 Congressional Commission on the Strategic Posture of the United States warned the nation is “ill-prepared” for a future where China and Russia can coordinate, or opportunistically exploit dual crises.

The issue is not that U.S. modernization appears timid on paper. Instead, it is optimized for a single adversary. A survivable second strike against one major nuclear opponent is not enough as a credible deterrent against two, especially if one adversary believes the other will absorb U.S. attention. Deterrence developed for one enemy breaks down when facing multiple opponents.

Modernization is also colliding with the same budget dysfunction that has battered conventional readiness for years. Continuing resolutions and shutdown threats do not just delay programs; they advertise doubt about U.S. resolve. In deterrence, doubt about political will can be just as harmful as uncertainty about capability.

Enter the logic of reciprocity. The White House’s February 2025 memorandum on Reciprocal Trade and Tariffs argues that reciprocal measures are not punishment; they are a way to restore balance when competitors exploit unequal terms. Reciprocity is a framework for fairness, and fairness is what makes commitments believable.

Deterrence needs a similar framework. Strategic fairness demands a posture calibrated to the combined capabilities of the adversaries the U.S. must deter, not an accounting trick that treats them sequentially. Dynamic Parity offers that calibration: match the aggregate nuclear threat, go no further, and use that ceiling to avoid both arms racing and strategic vulnerability.

Dynamic Parity is “parity without superiority.” It rebuffs a race for numerical dominance, but it also rejects minimalist postures that assume an adversary will politely wait its turn. It restores equilibrium as the foundation of deterrence in a multipolar era.

Skeptics argue that “parity” invites an arms race or abandons arms control. Dynamic Parity does the opposite: it clearly separates what is required from what is excess, with the numerical arsenals determined by the adversary and then matched by America. This establishes a disciplined standard for force planning. That discipline also enhances the U.S. position in future risk-reduction negotiations by making the baseline requirements explicit instead of improvised during a crisis.

Strategy, however, is not self-executing. If Dynamic Parity is the strategic logic, Congress needs a budgeting structure that can deliver it. The National Sea-Based Deterrence Fund provided the Columbia-class ballistic missile submarine program with authorities that support long-lead procurement and multiyear contracting.

Congress should implement that approach throughout the nuclear enterprise via a National Strategic Deterrence Fund. The goal is not to escape oversight; it is to safeguard the core of deterrence from annual budget brinkmanship and start-stop inefficiency. If the fund is protected as non-discretionary spending with multiyear authority, modernization timelines become actual plans rather than mere hopes.

Here is what that would look like in practice:

• Direct the next Nuclear Posture Review to adopt a concurrency standard and use Dynamic Parity as the force-planning logic.
• Create a National Strategic Deterrence Fund with multi-year and long-lead authorities across delivery systems, warheads, infrastructure, and nuclear command, control, and communications.
• Require annual execution reporting, i.e., schedule, industrial capacity, and funding stability, so Congress can measure delivery and not intent.

This is about credibility, not bookkeeping. The State Department’s International Security Advisory Board warned in 2023 that extended deterrence hinges on the perception of sustained capability and resolve. Allies and adversaries do not parse budget documents; they watch whether the U.S. executes what it promises.

Execution is the signal. Russia’s 2024 Fundamentals of Nuclear Deterrence establishes clear redlines for potential nuclear use while deliberately preserving threshold ambiguity. China is building the force structure for nuclear coercion alongside conventional power projection. If Washington cannot modernize on schedule and at scale, because budgets lurch from continuing resolution to shutdown threat, adversaries will read that as strategic hesitation, not fiscal noise.

Reciprocity works only when it is enforced. In nuclear deterrence, enforcement means a posture designed for concurrency and a budget mechanism that delivers it. Dynamic Parity provides the standard; a National Strategic Deterrence Fund provides the spine. In a multipolar nuclear world, balance against combined nuclear threats is not a theory, it is the price of credibility.

Joseph H. Lyons is a career bomber aviator and a doctoral candidate at Missouri State University’s School of Defense and Strategic Studies. The opinions, conclusions, and recommendations expressed or implied within are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the United States Air Force, the Department of Defense, any other U.S. government agency, or Missouri State University.

Reciprocity in Deterrence, Not Just Trade was originally published on Global Security Review.

Russia continued its bombardment of Ukraine with drone and missile strikes, and the US weighed the possibility of additional economic sanctions on Russia, including secondary sanctions against states trading with Russia. Debates among the Washington cognoscenti about possible peace settlements focused on two “baskets” of topics: what kind of “land swap” might be agreeable to Ukraine and Russia and what sort of security guarantees would be necessary for a postwar Ukraine. Amid all of this, one elephant in the room received little attention: the status of nuclear weapons and nuclear deterrence in future relationships between Ukraine and Russia and between Russia and NATO.

President Donald Trump posted on social media in late July 2025, that Dmitri Medvedev, Russia’s former president, was a “failed former President of Russia” who had better “watch his words.” Trump was responding to earlier remarks by Medvedev, after Trump threatened economic sanctions against Russia unless Russian President Vladimir Putin agreed to a temporary ceasefire and expedited peace talks with Ukraine.

In the earlier exchange, Medvedev called Trump’s ultimatum about peace talks a threat and a step toward war. Most recently, Medvedev again warned against nuclear danger by referring to the American television series The Walking Dead and reminded Trump that Russia retains the Soviet “Dead Hand” system for automatic nuclear launch even under the most extreme postattack conditions.

In response, President Trump posted on social media that he ordered two nuclear submarines to be repositioned in response to Medvedev’s threats. Trump said he ordered the submarines “to be positioned in the appropriate regions, just in case these foolish and inflammatory statements are more than just that.” In addition, the President noted that “[w]ords are very important and can often lead to unintended consequences. I hope this will not be one of those instances.”

Nuclear submarine movements are among the most highly classified information pertinent to military operations. If the reference was to American nuclear ballistic missile submarines (SSBN), this public announcement was unprecedented.

At one level, these interchanges between Medvedev and Trump are as much performative as they are substantive. During the early stages of Russia’s war against Ukraine beginning in February 2022, Putin issued frequent warnings about the possibility of Russian nuclear first use in response to actions taken by the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) that might be unacceptable to Russia. These warnings were dismissed by many Western political leaders and military experts as bluff to conceal Russia’s frustration at the prolonged military deadlock it faced in Ukraine, as well as distractions from looking too closely at Russia’s disappointing battlefield performances.

As Russia’s military operations on the ground seemed to improve in 2024 and 2025, nuclear threats became less frequent and less explicit. At present, Russia seems confident of maximizing its forward progress in military reach and operational control over the Donbass and other districts in the east and south of Ukraine.

Even a “small” nuclear war fought with tactical nuclear weapons would be a self-defeating endeavor for Russia. Fighting a conventional war under the shadow of possible nuclear escalation is sufficiently risky. If Russia were to cross the bridge into nuclear first use there would be a strong likelihood of a NATO nuclear response.

Russians need to interrogate their own military literature from the Cold War with respect to the challenge of conducting military operations in a nuclear environment. Troops seeking an operational breakthrough against enemy defenses would be fighting against the prompt and delayed effects of nuclear detonations that slow operational movement, inflict significant numbers of casualties, and corrupt the coordination and cohesion of combined arms. The Soviet Union could draw upon its ideological indoctrination and favorable memories of its victory in the Great Patriotic War (World War II) to maintain morale and avoid mass desertion, Russia cannot.

Nor would the economy of Europe, including Russia, survive anything beyond the very restrictive use of a few ultra-low-yield or low-yield in the sub-five kiloton range. In today’s world of social media and globally transmitted visual images, the meltdown of major financial and other institutions in Europe would trigger a global crash of markets, disrupt supply chains, let loose armed formations of criminals, and drive many leading politicians to abdication. Some in NATO might hope that Putin’s mistaken decision for nuclear first use would finally convince Russia’s military and security forces to overthrow their president and sue for peace, but Putin is not Lenin, and he is as likely to double down on escalation as he is to acquiesce to a nuclear ceasefire.

And therein lies the second danger, escalation to strategic nuclear war between the United States and Russia. Putin might calculate that he could hive off the nuclear deterrents of the British and French from their American allies and bully the former into submission while frightening the American government and public with separate threats of mass destruction. This would be a dangerous miscalculation because the nuclear forces of the United States are politically and operationally coupled to those of their European allies.

American nuclear weapons and American personnel deployed in Europe are effectively tied to the continent under Article V of the NATO charter. The idea that selective use of tactical nuclear weapons in Europe by Russia could be sealed off from wider and more deadly destruction, is beyond optimism.

In addition to misplaced optimism about escalation control during a major European war, there is also a lack of appreciation for the challenge of skillful crisis management that might avoid war altogether. Experience teaches that the requirements for nuclear and other crisis management include shared understandings and expectations about the risks of war and a willingness to consider the danger of misperceptions held by leaders in stressful situations. They may misjudge other national leaders as irrevocably committed to acts of conquest or aggression, when in fact those other heads of state may be undecided about their final judgments for or against war.

Communication between and among leaders may be incomplete and intelligence assessments can be blinkered by insufficient information or political bias. Examples of these and other maladies in crisis are provided by the July crisis of 1914 leading to the outbreak of World War I, the Cuban missile crisis of 1962, and by numerous other crises.

Russians playing with the rhetoric of Armageddon are legitimizing nuclear coercion in a time of troubles. The arrangement of a prompt ceasefire and peace agreement between Ukraine and Russia is of the highest significance for many reasons. These include putting an end to the loss of life and the destruction of national infrastructure. This objective should be pursued with aggressive diplomacy and without the distraction of references to the possibility of a war that would have no precedent in its capacity to do irreparable harm to civilization.

Steve Cimbala is a Senior Fellow at the National Institute for Deterrence Studies.

Nuclear Danger Remains in Ukraine Peace Settlement was originally published on Global Security Review.

The simulated conflict ended without regime change in Pyongyang, allowing Kim Jong Un to claim a political victory. While avoiding nuclear escalation may seem prudent, such an outcome could deal a lasting blow to the credibility of America’s extended deterrence in East Asia.

The Guardian Tiger scenario should not be dismissed as an academic exercise. It reveals a critical vulnerability in the psychological foundation of deterrence: the perception among adversaries and allies of American willingness to use nuclear weapons in defense of its partners. If allies conclude that Washington will not cross the nuclear threshold even after a nuclear attack, they may question the value of the nuclear umbrella. Adversaries, meanwhile, may learn that nuclear coercion, carefully calibrated, can succeed.

In the simulation, North Korea escalated to a tactical nuclear strike against a South Korean Navy destroyer in the East Sea (Guardian Tiger I) and later against the Chinhae naval base (Guardian Tiger II), home to the Republic of Korea Navy’s Submarine Force Command and occasionally used for allied submarine visits. According to the report, American leaders debated nuclear retaliation but settled on conventional “pulsed” strikes.

In a real-world scenario, such strikes could plausibly involve precision-guided munitions from long-range bombers like the B1-B and Tomahawk cruise missiles launched from Arleigh Burke-class destroyers, aimed at targets such as missile transporter-erector launchers, hardened artillery positions along the DMZ, and command-and-control facilities near Pyongyang. In the exercise, the US stopped short of regime change, seeking to avoid further nuclear escalation and prevent a direct war with China—a decision that would have allowed Pyongyang to absorb the damage, count the survival of its regime as a strategic win, and enter negotiations from a stronger position.

Extended deterrence depends on more than military capability. It is rooted in the belief, shared by allies and adversaries alike, that the United States is willing to defend its partners by all means necessary, including nuclear weapons. An American failure to respond in kind to North Korean nuclear use would plant seeds of doubt. Japanese and South Korean leaders could begin to question whether Washington would truly “trade Los Angeles for Tokyo or Seoul” if the stakes involved limited nuclear use rather than an existential threat to the United States.

That doubt could trigger cascading effects. Calls in Seoul’s National Assembly for indigenous nuclear weapons, expanded production of the Hyunmoo‑4 ballistic missile, and pressure on Tokyo to more seriously pursue nuclear sharing arrangements have already entered the political debate.

This concern is amplified by North Korea’s 2022 nuclear weapons law, which openly authorizes preemptive nuclear strikes in scenarios ranging from an imminent attack on leadership to undefined overwhelming crisis situations. Analysts note that the law’s language effectively lowers the threshold for nuclear use, implying tactical employment to repel invasion and seize the initiative in war. Rather than viewing nuclear use as a desperate last resort, Pyongyang now appears willing to employ such weapons early. For example, a low‑yield detonation against South Korean or American forward-deployed forces to shock Washington and Seoul into political concessions.

The challenge grows sharper in the event of a dual contingency: simultaneous crises on the Korean Peninsula and in the Taiwan Strait. Guardian Tiger II simulated such a scenario, with China launching a multi-domain assault on Taiwan while North Korea escalated on the peninsula. In such a real-world situation, US Indo-Pacific Command could be forced to divert the USS Ronald Reagan Carrier Strike Group from Yokosuka to the waters east of Taiwan, deploy B‑52H bombers to deter Chinese operations, and even consider repositioning some Terminal High Altitude Area Defense and Patriot missile defense batteries from South Korea to protect American assets in Okinawa and Guam.

Such shifts illustrate how a stretched American posture could reduce missile interception capacity on the peninsula and temporarily remove some nuclear-capable platforms from immediate Korean defense. North Korea could calculate that Washington, already balancing a larger confrontation with China, would avoid nuclear escalation in Korea to conserve resources and limit the risk of an all-out US-China war.

The political and strategic consequences would ripple across the region. In Seoul, public and elite opinion could shift sharply toward developing an independent nuclear arsenal—something 71 percent of South Koreans already support. South Korea’s nuclear latency, widely assessed by proliferation experts, suggests it could potentially produce a weapon in as little as 6 months if political consensus formed.

In Tokyo, the debate over counterstrike capabilities, missile defense expansion, and potential nuclear sharing with the United States would intensify, potentially accelerating deployment of Tomahawk missiles and further integration of F‑35A fighters, which, in the US fleet, are being certified for B61‑12 nuclear bombs, into allied defense planning. Beijing, meanwhile, could seize the opportunity to position itself as a stabilizing broker, offering to mediate between Seoul and Pyongyang while shielding the latter from full international accountability, further eroding American influence.

Avoiding nuclear escalation in a limited-strike scenario is understandable, but Washington cannot afford such a decision to be interpreted as weakness. Strengthening deterrence credibility in Northeast Asia will require more than declaratory statements. Clear and credible red lines for nuclear use must be communicated both publicly and privately. Integrated nuclear-conventional planning with allies should ensure that flexible response options, from proportionate nuclear strikes to overwhelming conventional retaliation, are executable on short notice. Contingency planning must explicitly account for simultaneous conflicts in Korea and Taiwan, with pre-positioned munitions, dispersed basing arrangements for nuclear-capable aircraft, and rotational deployments of dual-capable ships and submarines to maintain strategic presence even under force diversion.

Equally important is sustained alliance signaling. These include high-visibility joint exercises like the US-ROK Freedom Shield exercises, regular port visits by nuclear-capable submarines, and trilateral missile tracking drills with Japan. These measures reassure allies, complicate adversary calculations, and demonstrate that any nuclear use will incur unacceptable costs.

The Guardian Tiger exercises are valuable not because they predict the future, but because they reveal how quickly deterrence can fray in the fog of crisis. A single decision to refrain from nuclear retaliation, however understandable at the time, could reverberate for decades and reshape the strategic balance in East Asia. In the nuclear age, preserving deterrence means guarding against both uncontrolled escalation and the perceptions of hesitation that could invite it.

Dr. Ju Hyung Kim, President of the Security Management Institute, a defense think tank affiliated with the South Korean National Assembly, is currently adapting his doctoral dissertation, “Japan’s Security Contribution to South Korea, 1950 to 2023,” into a book.

A Nuclear Umbrella in Peril: Lessons from North Korea’s Escalation Scenarios was originally published on Global Security Review.

The war was not won by overwhelming force—it was won by precision, persistence, and a new kind of visibility. This shift was not just tactical; it was existential. Drones lowered the cost of engagement and shattered the old logic of deterrence. Military planners who once relied on large arsenals and conventional firepower now face a battlefield defined by bandwidth, optics, and algorithms. Nagorno-Karabakh was not an anomaly; it was a preview of what is coming.

Drones Tilt the Balance of Power

Azerbaijan’s drone fleet, led by Turkish-made Bayraktar TB2s and Israeli loitering munitions, did more than support ground troops. These drones destroyed tanks, artillery, and air defense systems with surgical precision.

Drone footage flooded social media and state television, galvanizing public support and intimidating adversaries. The battlefield became a stage and drones the lead actors in a performance of technological supremacy.

This was not a remote skirmish; it was a full-spectrum demonstration of how drones can tilt the military balance. Azerbaijan used converted Soviet-era aircraft as bait to expose Armenian air defenses, then struck with precision-guided drones. Air dominance was no longer reserved for wealthy superpowers; it was achieved through strategy and innovation.

Deterrence No Longer Works the Way It Used To

Deterrence did not fail for lack of firepower; it failed because the rules changed faster than anyone could adapt. Armenia’s conventional forces, built on Cold War assumptions, could not withstand the precision and persistence of drone strikes. The belief that large-scale military assets could prevent escalation collapsed under the weight of smaller and smarter systems.

This was not just a tactical failure; it was a conceptual one. Drones lowered the threshold for engagement and allowed Azerbaijan to strike decisively without risking pilots or exposing vulnerable assets. Deterrence, once rooted in overwhelming retaliation, now faces a new reality: speed, precision, and deniability.

Hybrid Warfare Is the New Normal

The war was not fought only in the skies; it unfolded across screens, networks, and supply chains. Azerbaijan blended conventional ground operations with cyber tactics, information warfare, and economic pressure. This hybrid model reflects a broader shift in twenty-first century warfare, where victory depends as much on narrative as on firepower.

Azerbaijan’s goals were clear: reclaim a contested enclave and secure vital energy corridors. But its drone-led offensive carried a deeper message—technological capability is political will. The signal to adversaries was unmistakable: resistance will be met with precision, persistence, and total visibility.

Small States Can Now Challenge Big Powers

            For Armenia, Nagorno-Karabakh represents cultural survival and historical identity. Its defense relied on asymmetrical tactics and guerrilla resilience. But against a technologically superior adversary, these methods faltered. Civilians and soldiers alike were left exposed, sheltering under skies that no longer offered cover.

This vulnerability is not unique to Armenia. Small states with access to drones can now challenge larger powers. Taiwan, for instance, is rapidly scaling up domestic drone production to counter China and support Western allies. Its “Drone National Team” initiative aims to produce 15,000 drones per month by 2028, positioning the island as a global hub for secure, AI-enabled drones.

Deterrence Must Be Reimagined

Nagorno-Karabakh may be the first war won by drones, but it will not be the last. The conflict offers a sobering lesson; deterrence must evolve or risk obsolescence. Integrated deterrence—blending military, economic, cyber, and diplomatic tools—is no longer optional. Unlike nuclear weapons, drones are accessible, scalable, and deniable. Their proliferation is horizontal, not vertical, spreading across small states, insurgent groups, and private firms.

As drone technology spreads, so does the risk of escalation, miscalculation, and asymmetric retaliation. The battlefield is no longer bound by geography; it is shaped by bandwidth, optics, and algorithmic intent.

Conclusion

            Nagorno-Karabakh was not just a battlefield; it was a turning point. It exposed how technological agility can dismantle legacy doctrines and how drones, once tactical novelties, now shape strategic outcomes. In this new era, deterrence is not about mass or might; it is about adaptability, integration, and speed. For nations still clinging to Cold War paradigms, the message is clear: evolve or be outmaneuvered. The future belongs to those who understand not just how to fight, but how to think in bandwidths, algorithms, and stories that shape the battlefield before the first shot is fired.

Evolution demands more than procurement; it requires imagination. Nations must rethink not only how they defend, but what they defend and why. As drones blur the line between war and surveillance, between deterrence and provocation, the strategist of tomorrow must be fluent in both geopolitics and code. The age of unmanned warfare is here and it is rewriting the rules faster than most doctrines can keep up.

Vikramaditya Shrivastava is a master’s student in international relations, security, and strategy at OP Jindal Global University.

Drones and the Death of Deterrence: Lessons from Nagorno-Karabakh was originally published on Global Security Review.