
Britain enters a new nuclear age
Alongside an ambitious plan to build up to 12 new attack submarines, and to create jobs in six new ammunition factories, one of the most striking commitments is to enter discussions with the USA aimed at 'enhanced participation in Nato's nuclear mission'. This innocuous sounding sentence represents a big change in nuclear posture.
Make no mistake: today's Strategic Defence Review marks the start of British rearmament. Not only does it signal the UK's commitment to increase defence spending to 3% of GDP, but to a type of spending designed to enhance the UK's strategic clout in the world.
At present, only Belgium, Germany, Italy and the Netherlands host US-owned tactical nuclear bombs, with their aircraft designed to be 'dual capable' of delivering such bombs on target. The UK, which lacks tactical nuclear weapons, could now volunteer to do likewise, but would need to buy a different variant of the F-35 combat aircraft than the one that is flown from the Royal Navy's carriers.
That would be a major change in nuclear policy – because the British deterrent has, since the 1990s, been strategic-only.
As I've argued here before, we need a wider range of options because Putin is now making regular threats to use nukes against Nato, and tactical nukes against Ukraine – so it makes sense to place more of Nato's collective nuclear armoury closer to the front line, and distributed among a larger number of allies.
Over and above deterring Russian aggression, almost everything Labour has announced today looks designed to achieve three things: to boost Britain's influence among its allies, to deliver high skilled jobs to places where they are scarce, and to get ahead of the game in the military technologies of the future.
These don't only include drones – though the spectacular Ukrainian strike on Russia's strategic bomber fleet on Sunday shows that we've hardly even begun to understand their power.
The technological arms race is now focused on niche areas of science – like nanotech, materials and quantum computing – and Labour, to its credit, has understood that it in any conflict with Russia it is the science labs of Oxbridge, Imperial and Edinburgh, not the 'playing fields of Eton', that might be decisive.
Suggested Reading We must take a nuclear leap into the unknown
Paul Mason
For the armed forces, often bound by tradition and prone to inter-service rivalry, making the SDR work will be a challenge. Because in every domain of warfare – land, air, sea, space and cyberspace – they face the same problem: they are running decades-old kit designed for an era when Britain could choose which wars it fights, while at the same time moving to a completely new, digitally enabled way of fighting, in which technological change never stops.
In this context, faced with a Russia that has turned itself into a war economy, and itself learned to innovate rapidly – deterrence comes down to showing Putin that our own industry, science and digital technology base could crank itself up to speed, and indeed surpass what Russia itself could achieve.
For me, the most basic task of the SDR was to assess the scale of the Russian threat and offer the electorate an honest proposal of how to meet it – within our means.
Though it might sound simple to achieve, it was not achieved at any point during 14 years of Conservative government, above all after 2020, when Boris Johnson and Dominic Cummings declared a 'tilt' of security priorities towards Asia, while systematically underfunding the ministry of defence.
Labour reversed that stance, declaring from day one that its priority is: 'Nato First'. The SDR places maritime warfare as the highest priority and designates the Atlantic and the Arctic as the UK's prime areas of interest.
There's been a row today over the precise form of words Keir Starmer is using – describing the 3% target in the 2030s as an ambition. I think it's clear that Labour means to find the money to achieve that – but it stands way outside the term of UK fiscal forecasting, and no chancellor would allow it to be stated as a firm commitment outside of a budget statement.
The real question with the SDR is: do the capabilities match the threats? The answer is: only if you believe Russia can be deterred through Nato remaining cohesive and the UK leading an enhancement of continent-wide nuclear deterrence.
If it cannot, then 3, 4 or even 5% won't be enough. In 1939, after seven years of rearmament, Britain's defence budget was 9% of GDP – and once war broke out it rose above 50%.
Today's focus on the big stuff – submarines, which are the capital ships of the 21st century, and a £15bn upgrade to nuclear warheads – reflects Starmer's determination for this country to avoid any impression that it wants to be 'Little Britain'. With a cash-strapped treasury, it is a decision to spend on what's strategic, and rely on allies for that which is not.
There is even the promise, thinking long term, to specify within this parliament a replacement for the Dreadnought submarines, currently being built at Barrow: and they don't even go out of service until 2050.
I would like to have seen more spending and faster – above all because defence industrial investment is one of the surest ways to boost growth and social cohesion in communities that have seen too little of it.
But until Labour can win the argument with the British people that they need to pay more tax, and tolerate more borrowing to fund defence, progress is going to be incremental. That, in turn, will depend on the outcome of Ukraine's peace negotiations with Russia. If they fail – and that looks likely – people may wake up to the fact that the prospect of endless war on our doorstep requires a change of attitude to defence. In that sense, the SDR was the start, not the end, of something.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Reuters
17 minutes ago
- Reuters
Alternative Transbalkan gas route excludes Russian supply to Ukraine, source says
KYIV, June 4 (Reuters) - An alternative Transbalkan gas import route for Ukraine has been developed that allows for cheaper imports to Ukraine that avoid Russian-origin gas, an Ukrainian industry source familiar with the matter said on Wednesday. The route will be operational from June, the source said, adding it could allow Ukraine to import up to 1 billion cubic meters (bcm) of gas in the more lucrative June-October period, including 100 million cubic meters (mcm) in June. Ukraine currently imports gas via Poland, Slovakia and Hungary. Formerly one of the largest importers of Russian gas, Ukraine has not been buying it since 2015 and in January, stopped the transit of Russian gas through its territory to Europe. Ukrainian officials have previously said that Kyiv would not allow gas purchases from a country that is at war with Ukraine. Ukraine said last month its energy regulator had approved a gas import mechanism that will avoid the high transit fees of gas supplied through the Transbalkan pipeline from Greece to Ukraine. "The planning (of gas shipping via Transbalkan pipeline) took into account the condition that natural gas can be supplied to the entry point in Greece from Greek LNG terminals or the TAP pipeline with Azerbaijani gas or reverse flow from Italy," the source said. "This minimises the possibility of transporting gas of Russian origin," he added. "All parties to the project agreed with this (the absence of Russian gas)." The daily import capacity is expected at 7 mcm of gas. "The cost of the route can compete with alternative routes for gas imports to Ukraine," he added. The Kyiv government has said Ukraine needs to import at least 4 bcm of gas for the new 2025/26 heating season while analysts and former officials estimated the imports at about 6.3 bcm.


New Statesman
24 minutes ago
- New Statesman
Letter of the week: The politics of poverty
Photo byI wholeheartedly support Gordon Brown's urgent call to action on child poverty in your recent special edition. The sad but undeniable truth is that child poverty is not just a statistic, but a defining fault line in British society today. It is the greatest driver of social division, a scar on our national conscience, and, if left unchecked, a threat to the future prospects of millions of children. As Brown rightly notes, this is not simply a moral emergency; it is an economic and educational crisis. We cannot talk about fixing Britain without talking about child poverty. Nor can we talk about restoring fairness or social mobility without tackling the structural barriers that trap children in disadvantage. Unless we address the deep-rooted educational inequalities that mirror and reinforce child poverty, from postcode lotteries in provision to the hollowing out of early years and special-needs support, we will fail to give every child a fair start. Millions believe that we are all better off when we care for the worst off. That compassion must now be matched by policy. Because child poverty is not inevitable. It is the result of political choices. And with the right choices, we can lift the next generation out of poverty and into promise. Mike Ion, Shrewsbury Food for thought One of my earliest memories is visiting the clinic with my mum to collect my orange juice and cod-liver oil, provided free by the government to keep me healthy. At my primary school there was free milk for everyone every day. This was about 1946, when the country was virtually bankrupt after fighting the war. Later, at secondary school we all had a midday meal of meat and two veg and pudding, again free. This was not just socialist ideology – nothing was withdrawn by Churchill or Macmillan. It was taken for granted by both parties that children must be properly nourished. Compared to those days the country is now enormously wealthy, but children go hungry. What has happened? John Lowell, Cheadle Hulme Brown's bairns I find it more than curious that in Gordon Brown's guest-edited child poverty issue there is no reflection on the fact that the one part of the UK where levels of child poverty are dropping is where he lives – in Scotland. Why has he not mentioned this? Child poverty in the UK has risen to 31 per cent while that in Scotland has dropped to 22 per cent. Surely there is a story worth looking at here. Ernie Watt, London Relative riches In 1950 my parents had to give up our modern house in Birmingham because they couldn't make ends meet, and we moved to an old terrace house with an outside toilet and no hot water. The present houses in Ladywood would have seemed lovely. We of course had no phone and no car, and our clothes were hand-me-downs (so was my bike) or were made by my mother. But we had a radio and a cat, I played cricket and football in the street, I could go to the park and to the library, a government scheme enabled us to build a bathroom, I had two parents who loved me and loved each other, and through Mr Tunnicliffe and Miss Swift at Rookery Road Junior School and through the eleven-plus, things changed for my sister and me. I guess we were poor, though we were typical of our street. After reading the New Statesman issue, I still don't have a very clear picture of what poverty means in 2025. I need stories, and also an impression of how typical they are. And maybe we need to set the problem and the desired actions about poverty alongside the questions Rowan Williams raised about how democracy recovers a grounding in solidarity. John Goldingay, Oxford Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe Lineker's red card Although Gary Lineker is on the right side in the Gaza debate, it was only proper that he left the BBC for his mistake (Media Notebook, 23 May). Though I do feel he has become a victim of one of the pitfalls of social media. It's so easy to hit share within seconds of seeing content only to notice something sinister moments later when the damage has already been done. So what will happen to the social media outlet that allowed the post in the first place? I'm guessing nothing. Maybe this is another reason we still need the old media Alison Phillips talks about. Some research first, then the story. Rob Grew, Birmingham Trump's ties 'Superhuman narcissism' (Neil Kinnock, 23 May) is one but not the only explanation for Trump's behaviour. For example, his failure in months to bring the peace in Ukraine he boasted he'd achieve within hours can be explained, as FBI and congressional investigations have shown, by his loyalty to Vladimir Putin. Former allies of Russia's president have admitted to interfering in US elections. Trump may, therefore, owe a lot to Putin. Similarly his failure to safeguard the planet boils down to another favour returned. For this election campaign, while he didn't quite receive the $1bn in contributions he reportedly pushed for from oil executives, it was close. So again, he owes them. He's a narcissist, but he won't bite the hands that feed him. David Murray, Wallington Rivers of life Thank you for the interview with Robert Macfarlane (Encounter, 23 May). I hope there will be more articles about the environment in the front pages because, as with the water issue, the environment is political. Flood risks can be reduced at next to no cost by introducing beavers. Carbon can be sequestered without spending billions on carbon capture and storage simply by preserving peatland. You can't chop down old orchards and woodlands and expect the same ecological benefits from compensation planting elsewhere. Children in poverty can benefit from, among other things, access to nature. Here in Cambridge, there are children from poor households who have never seen the River Cam, even though they live just a mile away. Ecological literacy is important and as long as this Labour government bats away people who care about, well, bats and other wildlife, voters will desert them. Tim Tam, Cambridge Write to letters@ We reserve the right to edit letters [See also: Gary Lineker and the impartiality trap] Related


New Statesman
24 minutes ago
- New Statesman
Mike Berners-Lee: 'Being a billionaire can make people go nuts'
Illustration by Ellie Foreman Peck 'We need to completely reset the idea that it's OK to be dishonest in public life,' Mike Berners-Lee told me on a bright spring afternoon at the New Statesman's offices in London's Hatton Garden. The 61-year-old environmentalist radiated with the same quiet rage I recognised from his latest book, A Climate of Truth. In it, he argues that misinformation and dishonesty have become normalised in British politics, which has had a calamitous effect on any discussion of the climate crisis. 'We have a political culture in which you can get away with saying things that don't honour the truth,' he said, 'and it becomes harder to defend arguments that don't stack up.' One crucial example of this, outlined in the book, is the moment in September 2023 when the then prime minister, Rishi Sunak, announced the government's intention to grant new oil and gas licences. In doing so, he advanced the persistent but flawed idea that by increasing domestic production, the UK could become self-sufficient using oil and gas extracted from the North Sea, ending our reliance on imports and lowering UK consumers' energy bills. What this argument fails to take into account is that British fossil fuel prices are set by international energy markets and have little, if anything, to do with North Sea output. In other words, the prime minister's reasoning was at best a distortion of the truth and at worst, a lie. Fed up with Sunak and other politicians' 'abusive dishonesty', Berners-Lee, who is a professor in practice at Lancaster University, set out to compile a handbook for readers feeling similarly furious. In A Climate of Truth, he criticises those who, he believes, have helped to sow confusion over the severity of the climate crisis. Berners-Lee spent much of his career as an academic, specialising in carbon pricing, the system that aims to reduce greenhouse gas emissions by assigning a cost to carbon dioxide. In recent years, however, Berners-Lee's role has evolved beyond academia: he's published four books in five years, drawing on his expertise to warn of the consequences of humankind's 'failure to find an anthropocene-fit way of living'. His 2019 book There Is No Planet B already feels as though it was published in a different era of climate action: one in which Greta Thunberg led hordes of children in her Skolstrejk for Klimatet and Theresa May signed the UK's 'Net Zero by 2050' target into law. It is an entertaining to-do list of preventative measures to stave off the most pernicious effects of climate change. In contrast, A Climate of Truth is angrier and more direct. It was published just nine days after the Conservative leader, Kemi Badenoch, denounced Net Zero 2050 as 'impossible', telling a press conference on 18 March that the target could not be achieved 'without a serious drop in our living standards or by bankrupting us'. Sunak and his energy secretary, Grant Shapps, both come in for criticism in the book, but it is Boris Johnson for whom Berners-Lee saves the most vitriol, describing him as a 'serial propagator of bullshit'. Two of the most egregious examples of this – the partygate scandal and the £350m for the NHS Brexit promise – are both neatly catalogued in an appendix at the back of the book. It is Johnson's election as prime minister in December 2019 that Berners-Lee holds up as the point at which deceit was 'normalised'. Berners-Lee told me that since then the public has been 'in an abusive relationship with our politicians'. Mike Berners-Lee was born in London in 1964 to Mary Lee Woods and Conway Berners-Lee, two computer scientists. The pair met working on the Manchester Mark One computer, one of the earliest stored-programme computers, in the late 1940s. Mike is the youngest of four; his eldest brother, Tim Berners-Lee, created the World Wide Web in 1989. 'I look back now and particularly think what my mum would make of the trajectory computing has taken,' he said. 'I think she'd be horrified by the unintended consequences.' Those unintended consequences include not only the rapid, often unregulated development of artificial intelligence, but also the political and cultural power of tech barons. Berners-Lee points to Elon Musk, the billionaire owner of X, who last year reposted content from the far-right agitator Tommy Robinson during the riots in Southport. Musk also accused Keir Starmer of two-tier policing following the Prime Minister's crackdown on the rioters. 'I think he's nuts,' Berners-Lee told me. 'Being a billionaire has a tendency to make people go nuts.' In A Climate of Truth, Berners-Lee accuses tech barons and other 'malign influences' of 'creating targeted fake content to corrupt democracies'. Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe Berners-Lee writes that to break out of this fake-news doom cycle, users must take their data elsewhere (he has abandoned X for its more progressive, if duller, successor, BlueSky). But his tirade against fake news does not end with the digital world. He also rebukes the mainstream media, noting a recent Daily Mail headline in which the paper described the latest report by the UN-mandated International Panel on Climate Change as 'climate hysteria'. This type of coverage, he claims, feeds into the normalisation of dishonesty in public life. the Times, the Telegraph and even the BBC have all, in Berners-Lee's view, allowed this atmosphere of dishonesty to grow. His bolshy vision for overcoming these cycles of 'bullshit' is to make it 'socially unacceptable' to get news – any news – from these kinds of sources by ostracising people who read them. His orders are clear, but the challenge is obvious. More than two million people read the Mail every day. Convincing readers to abandon the paper will take more than pointing out instances of dubious coverage, especially those who likely now believe that the very lines they have been reading are true. While he does not encourage boycotting the BBC (it is 'not yet completely useless') Berners-Lee warns viewers should engage with the public broadcaster with a 'large pinch of salt'. Channel 4, in his view, is better. Though Berners-Lee wears his political biases openly (his dislike of the Conservative Party is obvious), his criticism is not limited to the right. We discussed the government's decision to allow a third runway at Heathrow, spearheaded by Rachel Reeves in her plan for growth. 'Reeves has been saying some things that are either not well informed or are really badly informed,' he said. 'In which case, you have to question the competence of her and her advisers.' He pointed to the pushing of Sustainable Aviation Fuel (SAF) as a way of making air travel more environmentally friendly. 'You don't have to spend very long with somebody who properly understands Sustainable Aviation Fuel to understand it's not sustainable at all,' he said. One method of creating SAF, he explained, is by using waste cooking oil and 'there's nowhere near enough of that to make even the faintest dent in our aviation fuel needs'. Berners-Lee said this is simply another example of greenwashing to secure political gain, fulfilling the government's coveted growth mission at great cost to the environment. Where does Berners-Lee see his place in all of this? Dismantling the climate scepticism that has taken hold in the political-media class will take a lot of time and effort. He doesn't want to be 'stuck going around year after year just trying to shout more loudly about how much trouble we're in,' he told me. Understanding where it stems from is vital and 'that's what the book is about'. The lack of progress on climate change 'doesn't have poor judgement at its root,' he told me. 'It has flat-out deceit.' [See also: Inside No 10's new dysfunction] Related