The Doomsday Clock — a symbolic device to signal an array of existential threats to the world since 1947 — was recently moved to 85 seconds before midnight, the closest it has ever been to midnight. And that was before all-out war broke out in Iran.
Created by the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists, the Doomsday Clock first represented a slow descent into nuclear vulnerability, with midnight standing as the nuclear apocalypse.
Nowadays, the clock includes other existential threats to humanity, including global warming, disruptive technologies or the erosion of the rules-based international order.
Since its very beginning, the clock’s purpose was a call to action meant to shake world leaders — and the broader public by extension — awake from their complacency and indifference.
The aim of the Doomsday Clock was never to instil paralysing anxiety. Quite the contrary, it sought to mobilise fear in a constructive way.
But over the years, the Doomsday Clock has crept ever closer to midnight — first by minutes, then by seconds — heightening the sense of urgency while stopping short of the clock’s symbolic apocalypse.
Being mere seconds from catastrophe dramatically underscores the urgency of action, even as the shrinking margin to midnight heightens public anxiety.
We contend this is the point where the narrative of imminent catastrophe becomes counter-productive: constant apocalyptic scenarios may dull perceptions of risk or be exploited to justify politics driven by urgency and fear.
The clock has long been subject to criticism. Some have questioned its precision and called it showmanship. Others have described it as shaped by ideology.
But the first question we should ask of the Doomsday Clock is whether it fulfils its stated purpose. It’s been argued that putting humanity on a permanent, blanket high alert isn’t helpful when it comes to formulating policy or driving science.
The narratives of nuclear war and impending apocalypse that underpin the Doomsday Clock have historically been used to project authority and justify the dangerous politics of secrecy.
For instance, during the Cold War, the US strategically stoked a sense of urgency within its population against the potential threat of nuclear war with the Soviet Union.
Worried citizens built bunkers in their homes as billions of dollars were pumped into the military industrial complex.
Obviously, complacency about the serious challenges the world is facing is not an option. But the idea that we are almost at the point of no return via the Doomsday Clock is no longer useful or helpful.
By calibrating the Doomsday Clock in ever-narrowing seconds, we construct an imaginative framework in which meaningful change is equated with turning the clock back. It may be more honest — and more useful — to acknowledge that we’re already living at the brink.
The uncertainty and anxiety produced by being “seconds to midnight” via the Doomsday Clock can upset the balance between fear and hope. It risks normalising the violence long endured by racialised and marginalised communities, while creating fertile ground for either opportunistic politics or irrational faith that events will simply resolve themselves.
The Conversation