The concept of deterrence is fundamental to national security policy. The idea is to use the threat of overwhelming force to prevent an adversary from attacking. We want a foreign adversary to calculate that the potential cost of an attack outweighs the potential benefits.
This underlies the phrase “peace through strength”, famously used by Ronald Reagan. In the latter stages of the Cold War, Jimmy Carter ended détente and escalated tensions with the Soviet Union after it invaded Afghanistan. Reagan expanded on this through a general military buildup and provocative rhetoric, once joking off the record: “My fellow Americans, I'm pleased to tell you today that I've signed legislation that will outlaw Russia forever. We begin bombing in five minutes.”
Jokes aside, this statement was taken seriously and protested by the Soviet leadership. Through much of Reagan’s first term, Soviet nuclear forces were on high alert, and there was a real risk of a hair-trigger first strike. The danger in the deterrence dance of escalating too much is that your opponent begins to fear imminent attack and may strike first to mitigate the damage.
A lot of this is fundamentally psychology. If someone looks threatening, I’ll probably just keep my distance. If someone walks up to my house in a threatening way, the response might be more aggressive. If you think someone will shoot you unless you shoot first, what do you do?
But what happens when the threat of escalation becomes more than just a bluff? That’s the tightrope the U.S. has been walking for decades: convince adversaries they don’t want to mess with you, but don’t push so hard that they think war is inevitable. With the incoming Trump administration, signals point to a policy shift that favors turning up the heat, but where’s the line between strength and recklessness?
Take South Korea, for example. With North Korea ramping up its nuclear weapons program and engaging in direct conflict in Ukraine, some argue that South Korea should “go nuclear.” The logic is straightforward: if North Korea knows South Korea has its own nukes, they’d think twice before launching an attack. It’s the same basic deterrence principle, designed to undermine North Korea’s own deterrence: it has ballistic missiles aimed at Seoul.
Sure, it might make Pyongyang pause, but what happens next? China won’t sit back and cheer if another country in its backyard goes nuclear, and Japan might decide it needs nukes too. Suddenly, you’re not de-escalating anything, you’re lighting the fuse on a regional arms race. And let’s not forget, the U.S. has spent decades trying to stop the spread of nukes. If South Korea goes nuclear, what message does that send to countries like Iran or Saudi Arabia?
Speaking of Iran, that’s another powder keg. The Biden administration’s efforts to revive a nuclear deal fell flat, and now all eyes are on Trump’s incoming team. The talk of “maximum pressure” is back on the table: stronger economic sanctions paired with military threats that sound less like deterrence and more like saber-rattling. The hope is that Iran will cave before things escalate.
Iran has its own concerns, though. Its regional proxies in the Middle East have been dismantled by Israel, which also possesses nuclear weapons. The Gulf states are normalizing ties with Israel, leaving Iran in a precarious state. If backed into a corner with nothing to lose, does it choose to go nuclear?
And then there’s Russia. Moscow has leaned into its own version of “escalate to de-escalate,” hinting that it could use tactical nukes in Ukraine to force the West to back off. The logic here is as dangerous as it is simple: scare your enemy into retreat by showing you’re willing to go further than they are. This gave the Biden administration pause multiple times and led to the slow walking of aid to Ukraine and restrictions on the weapons that were provided.
The U.S. under Trump appears poised to step back from its maximum pressure campaign on Russia, but the president has not yet signed an order rolling back existing sanctions. It has temporarily paused foreign military assistance to Ukraine but appears to be pushing Russia towards a ceasefire. Russia may no longer think there is a threat justifying a nuclear response, but then what incentive do they have to negotiate?
This is the catch-22 of escalation. It’s supposed to make you look strong and in control. But what if it just makes the other guy more paranoid? History is full of moments where leaders misread signals and things spiraled out of control. Reagan’s infamous off-mic joke about bombing Russia might seem funny now, but at the time, it added fuel to an already tense standoff. The Soviets didn’t think it was a joke—they thought it was a threat.
So, as the Trump administration gears up to tackle these crises, it’s worth asking how far is too far. Deterrence works because it’s rooted in psychology—it’s about making your adversary believe the cost of action outweighs the benefits. But when you start playing chicken with nuclear weapons or pushing policies that corner your opponent, you might end up getting exactly what you’re trying to prevent.
In the end, escalation is a gamble. The U.S. needs to look strong, sure. But strength isn’t just about flexing your muscles—it’s about knowing when to stop short of a punch. Because if you’re not careful, deterrence can quickly turn into disaster.