Why Chinese Scientists Would Benefit the Most from Trump Resuming U.S. Nuclear Tests
Trump has announced that he has “ordered” the resumption of American nuclear testing after a 33-year moratorium. He first made the claim on social media, then repeated it in off-the-cuff remarks during his visit to South Korea, saying the U.S. would test “on an equal basis” with other powers. The statement sounded like a dramatic U-turn, but it was deliberately vague: was he talking about actual underground nuclear detonations or merely about flight-testing delivery systems (missiles), something the U.S. already does routinely? Even some officials have suggested the president may be conflating the two categories, which leaves room to interpret the whole thing as a political signal rather than an operational plan.
The vagueness does not reduce the risk. The arms-control architecture has been eroding for years: the INF Treaty is dead, the CTBT never entered into force because key states—including the U.S. and China—never ratified it, Russia formally “withdrew” its ratification in 2023 to put itself “on par” with Washington, and New START expires in February 2026. If the United States formally breaks the moratorium and detonates the first nuclear warhead since 1992, a response from Moscow—and, directly or indirectly, from Beijing—would be almost certain. We would then have not just an arms race, but a testing race.
What does the U.S. actually have today? The nuclear triad remains intact: land-based ICBMs (Minuteman III until Sentinel arrives), Trident-armed submarines (Ohio-class transitioning to Columbia-class), and strategic bombers (currently B-52 and B-2, with the B-21 entering service). The active stockpile is estimated at around 3,700 warheads, with the total inventory—including those retired and awaiting dismantlement—exceeding 5,000. The U.S. also keeps several dozen tactical B61 bombs in Europe. Crucially, there have been no explosive tests since 1992. Reliability is maintained through the Stockpile Stewardship Program—supercomputers, advanced diagnostics, and subcritical experiments. Every year the national labs and STRATCOM formally certify that the arsenal is safe and effective without a full-scale nuclear detonation. At the same time, a massive modernization program is underway (new delivery systems, new warhead variants such as the W87-1). In short: the system is aging but being renewed, and the technical need for a live detonation has not been proven.
Russia possesses the largest overall arsenal—around 4,400 warheads in the military stockpile plus additional retired ones. Its triad is diverse: silo-based and road-mobile ICBMs (Yars, Sarmat), submarines (Delta IV and Borei-class with Bulava missiles), and bombers (Tu-95MS, Tu-160) armed with cruise missiles. It also fields exotic systems (Avangard hypersonic glide vehicle, Poseidon torpedo, Burevestnik cruise missile). Russia’s last conducted a nuclear test in the early 1990s; its Novaya Zemlya test site is systematically maintained. Moscow’s message is simple: if the U.S. tests, we will test too.
China remains quantitatively smaller but is rising fast: roughly 600 warheads today, with new silo fields under construction, expansion of road-mobile ICBMs (DF-41), and slow but steady consolidation of the sea-based leg (Type 094 with JL-2, JL-3 and Type 096 in development). The air leg is the weakest link (H-6N; the H-20 is not yet operational). Most Chinese warheads are not kept on hair-trigger alert—far fewer are deployed and immediately ready than in the U.S. or Russian arsenals. China has not detonated a device since 1996, although activity at the Lop Nur test site has increased in recent years. Beijing refuses to join reduction talks, arguing it is still far from parity with Washington and Moscow.
So why is Trump pushing the testing issue? One motive is clear: a show of strength and pressure on Moscow and Beijing ahead of talks on a new arms-control framework—the classic “escalate to de-escalate” playbook. The second motive is purely domestic and prosaic: nuclear programs create jobs, contracts, and budgets, and the military-industrial complex knows how to monetize “testing” rhetoric. Yet the expert consensus inside the system remains that live testing is not necessary for stockpile reliability.
Proponents of resumption argue it would allow verification of performance after major upgrades to old components, development of new low-yield or specialized warheads, and demonstration of certain advanced capabilities. Here lies the paradox that the anti-testing camp never tires of pointing out: the United States has conducted 1,030 nuclear tests in its history—an enormous data legacy. China has conducted only a few dozen. If the taboo is broken, who has more to learn and more “catching up” to do—Washington or Beijing? In other words, America would risk giving its adversaries exactly what it wants to prevent: faster refinement of modern designs.
Where would tests actually take place? Realistically only in Nevada, at the Nevada National Security Site (Yucca Flat and Pahute Mesa). It is the only facility engineered for underground tests in compliance with the 1963 Partial Test Ban Treaty (which bans atmospheric and underwater tests). But “immediately” is not realistic: official readiness estimates range from 24–36 months from order to explosion, and many experts speak of at least one to three years for drilling shafts or refurbishing tunnels, installing diagnostics, ensuring radiation containment, and assembling the device. Subcritical experiments already take place in the U1a underground complex, but those are not detonations. Nevada also carries heavy historical baggage—“downwinders,” health claims, and compensation programs—and political and legal resistance in the state would be fierce.
Public opinion? Recent polls show most Americans oppose resuming nuclear explosive testing. Right after the announcement, about 46% said they were against it, with support hovering around one-third. Even more telling is intensity: “strongly opposed” far outweighs “strongly in favor.” This fits a long-term trend: banning nuclear tests is one of the most popular arms-control measures in the U.S.; both Democrats and Republicans have consistently shown majority support for the CTBT, even though the Senate never ratified it. In short, the domestic political capital for pushing an actual detonation is thin and uncertain.
Geopolitically, such a U.S. move would be double-edged. As a short-term display of power it might impress, but strategically it would undermine America’s own argument about “rules” and “norms.” If Washington breaks the moratorium first, it will be hard to persuade others not to follow. Russia would announce a “symmetric response,” and China would get a free pass to accelerate and qualitatively improve its arsenal. Europe, as usual, would pay the price in heightened tension—on top of the U.S. warheads already stationed in several NATO bases and a new wave of pressure to further “strengthen” nuclear deterrence” on the continent.
Behind it all lurks an old rule of U.S. politics: when genuine de-escalation strategies are missing, spectacle fills the void. Testing—even if it remains only talk—will serve negotiations and budgets. The labs and major contractors will get new funding lines, and the White House can claim it has “restored resolve.” But security does not increase with the number of detonations; it increases with the number of agreements and verification mechanisms. The fewer of those we have, the more dangerous every crisis becomes and the costlier every misstep.
One final point must be made: institutional inertia (procedures, timelines, Congress, local opposition—makes the probability of a quick detonation low. But normalizing the language of testing already erodes what kept the door closed for three decades. That is a bigger problem than one announcement—it is a symptom of a system that has forgotten why the moratorium existed in the first place: not out of weakness, but as a bare-minimum civilizational standard after a thousand explosions and millions affected.
If Trump’s announcement turns out to be tactical bluff, the world will breathe a temporary sigh of relief. If it turns into a plan with deadlines and drill rigs in Nevada, we enter an era of “test for test, in which China and Russia have more to gain than the United States—and all of us end up with less security. From that perspective, the most mature “test” of American power today is not a detonation, but the ability to uphold the moratorium, restart negotiations, and return to the logic of restraint. Everything else, no matter how “tough” it sounds, is just expensive and dangerous shadow-boxing in the Nevada desert.
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