89 Seconds to Midnight
What Are the Chances of WWIII in the Next 10 Years?
In 2025, the world finds itself at 89 seconds to midnight. The famous “doomsday clock,” which is a powerful symbol of how close the world is to a human-made global catastrophe, has never been closer to midnight since its inception in 1947. If that doesn’t scare the hell out of you, I don’t know what to tell you. The world is at a precarious crossroads, grappling with a geopolitical landscape that feels increasingly unstable. The past few years have witnessed a sharp rise in tensions among major global powers, with the United States, Russia, and China locked into rivalry and mistrust.
Russia’s ongoing military campaign in Ukraine, now stretching into its third year, has not only upended the security architecture of Eastern Europe but has also provoked a fierce response from NATO and the European Union. Sanctions, counter-sanctions, and a steady flow of military aid to Ukraine have deepened the East-West divide, creating a proxy conflict that reverberates far beyond its borders. Meanwhile, China’s assertive posture toward Taiwan, coupled with its expanding naval presence in the South China Sea, has raised fears of a potential flashpoint in the Asia-Pacific region.
These overlapping crises between rival powers, each with its own set of interests in the geopolitical chessboard, have converged to form a volatile mix, where the margin for error is razor-thin. The specter of nuclear weapons casts a long shadow over these developments, with military experts and NATO leaders warning that the world may be closer to a catastrophic conflict than at any point since the Cold War. As we march into the decade ahead, the choices made by governments, institutions, and societies will determine whether these tensions can be defused or if they will spiral into a global conflagration of unimaginable scale.
The rivalry among the United States, Russia, and China has emerged as the defining dynamic of the current era, a contest that shapes not only their bilateral relations but the broader international order. The United States, still wielding unparalleled military and economic might, has positioned itself as a counterweight to what it perceives as destabilizing actions by its two chief rivals. Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022, which has morphed into a grinding war of attrition, remains a central point of contention. The U.S., alongside its NATO allies, has funneled billions in aid to Kyiv, from advanced weaponry to humanitarian support, framing the conflict as a defense of democratic values against authoritarian aggression. This involvement has drawn Moscow’s ire, with Russian leaders accusing the West of waging a hybrid war aimed at weakening their state.
On another front, China’s ambitions in the Asia-Pacific have intensified the strain. Beijing’s claims over Taiwan, a self-governing island it considers a breakaway province, have led to frequent military drills and provocative rhetoric, prompting the U.S. to bolster its regional alliances. The Quad partnership, comprising the U.S., Japan, Australia, and India, has gained momentum, while American naval deployments in the South China Sea have become a regular feature of the strategic chessboard. China, in turn, views these moves as an attempt to encircle and contain its rise, accusing Washington of meddling in its sphere of influence. This three-way standoff is fraught with peril, as each power possesses vast nuclear arsenals and the capacity to escalate quickly, whether through a misjudged naval encounter or a cyber-operation mistaken for an act of war.
The stakes are nothing short of existential, and the absence of clear communication channels only heightens the risk.
Compounding these great power tensions is a growing web of cooperation among authoritarian states, a trend that has alarmed policymakers and analysts alike. Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea—nations often at odds with the Western-led international system—have forged increasingly tight bonds, driven by shared interests and mutual opposition to global norms they see as stacked against them. This alignment has taken tangible form in recent years. Russia and China, for instance, have staged joint military exercises in the Pacific, showcasing their ability to coordinate operations across vast distances. These drills, often framed as defensive, send a clear message of defiance to the U.S. and its allies.
This bloc of authoritarian states complicates the global picture further by undermining Western efforts to isolate individual actors. China’s economic backing of Russia, for example, has blunted the impact of sanctions over Ukraine, while Iran’s ties to other pariah nations have emboldened its defiance of international pressure, even after Donald Trump’s strikes against underground Iranian nuclear facilities. As these partnerships solidify, they create a counterweight to the liberal order, raising the prospect of a coordinated challenge that could tip the balance toward chaos if not addressed through diplomacy or deterrence.
The spread of nuclear weapons stands out as one of the gravest threats to humanity’s future, a danger that has grown more acute in 2025. The global nuclear club, once tightly controlled, is showing signs of expansion as more nations weigh the benefits of acquiring these ultimate weapons of mass destruction. Japan, a pacifist nation since World War II, has begun openly debating the merits of a nuclear deterrent, spurred by North Korea’s relentless missile tests and China’s regional assertiveness. This shift, if realized, would mark a seismic change in East Asian security dynamics, potentially triggering a domino effect among other states.
In the Middle East, Iran’s dogged refusal to abandon threats as it relates to their battered nuclear program continue to defy military strikes, sanctions, and diplomatic overtures, fueling fears of a regional arms race. Saudi Arabia and Turkey, among others, might feel compelled to follow suit. The implications of this proliferation are terrifying: the more actors with nuclear capabilities, the greater the chance of miscalculation or deliberate use, especially in regions already rife with instability.
Beyond state actors, there’s the ever-present risk of nuclear materials slipping into the hands of terrorist groups, a scenario that keeps security experts awake at night. For decades, treaties like the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) have held the line against this tide, but their authority is fraying as geopolitical rivalries erode trust. Advances in missile technology and delivery systems only amplify the danger, shrinking the window for response in a crisis. The next ten years could see a world where nuclear standoffs become routine, a reality that demands urgent attention if catastrophe is to be averted.
Technology, too, is reshaping the battlefield in ways that should both fascinate and terrify you. The rapid rise of artificial intelligence and cyber warfare has ushered in a new era of conflict, one where traditional rules struggle to keep pace. AI-powered autonomous weapons - drones (which have already been used with artificial intelligence by Russia in the Ukrainian theatre), or missile systems capable of selecting targets without human input - are a reality being pursued by major powers. It’s straight out of a dystopian novel. The allure of such systems lies in their speed and precision, yet their deployment raises profound questions: what happens if an algorithm misreads a situation, or if a glitch triggers an unintended strike? The potential for escalation in such scenarios is staggering, as machines lack the nuance and restraint of human judgment.
Meanwhile, the cyber realm has become a shadow theater of war, with state-sponsored hackers and rogue actors targeting everything from power grids to election systems. These attacks, often cloaked in anonymity, blur the line between provocation and aggression—imagine a blackout in a major city mistaken for the opening move of a broader assault, prompting a disproportionate response. The integration of AI into military planning adds another layer of risk, fostering a dangerous overconfidence among leaders who might believe they can predict and control outcomes with machine-like certainty. History teaches us that war is chaotic and unpredictable, yet these advancements tempt nations to gamble on their ability to manage the unmanageable. In this high-tech arena, a single miscommunication or misfiring could ignite a firestorm that engulfs the globe in war and misery.
Yet amid these mounting risks, there’s a curious disconnect between the gravity of the situation and the public’s engagement with it. Surveys across Europe and the United States reveal a widespread unease about the prospect of a future war, a lingering anxiety rooted in the collective memory of past conflicts. Yet this concern rarely translates into sustained action or pressure on policymakers.
Part of the problem, I believe, lies in the sheer complexity of these issues. For many people, geopolitical rivalries and nuclear proliferation feel distant and abstract compared to the immediate demands of daily life, like jobs or healthcare. Media coverage doesn’t always help, often prioritizing dramatic headlines over the slow-burn trends that truly shape the future. Then there’s the question of historical lessons. The devastation of World War II looms large in the public imagination, with its warnings about unchecked aggression and the need for unity. But applying those lessons to today’s challenges, whether through stronger alliances or proactive diplomacy, requires a level of focus that’s hard to muster in an age of distraction. Without an informed and mobilized public, governments may lack the mandate to take bold steps, whether that’s investing in defense, rallying support for peace initiatives, or holding leaders accountable. As threats accelerate, closing this divide becomes not just desirable but essential.
Despite these sobering realities, there are glimmers of hope, starting with the resilience of international cooperation. Europe, in particular, offers a model of what’s possible when nations align their efforts. The Northwood Declaration, a landmark agreement between France and Britain, exemplifies this trend, deepening military and intelligence ties to create a more robust defense posture. This could include joint exercises along the English Channel or shared satellite data tracking potential threats. Yet their success hinges on broader buy-in; without the full commitment of other European states, the United States, and NATO, their impact risks being symbolic rather than transformative. Still, the European Union’s “Coalition of the Willing” and its push for a unified foreign policy hints at a continent determined to assert itself as a stabilizing force. If Europe can maintain this momentum, it might serve as a bulwark against the chaos erupting around them, proving that collective strength can still prevail in a fractured world.
Economic interdependence offers another lifeline. The United States and China, for all their strategic sparring, remain deeply entwined economically. Think of the vast flow of goods, from electronics to raw materials, that crisscrosses the Pacific. This trade, worth hundreds of billions annually, creates a mutual stake in stability; a war would shatter supply chains, tank markets, and plunge both nations into economic free-fall. The logic is compelling: why risk mutual ruin when the status quo delivers prosperity?
Yet history cautions against over-reliance on this deterrent. Before World War I, Europe’s economies were similarly interlinked, yet trade didn’t stop the guns from firing. Today, U.S.-China tensions over Taiwan, technology, and access to rare-earth minerals, brew beneath the surface, and economic ties could collapse if political calculations override financial ones. All it takes is a single misstep - say, a blockade in the South China Sea - to fracture the logic behind economic interdependence. For now, these ties are a brake on escalation, but they’re not a panacea.
Pure and simple diplomacy also remains as a source of hope. Institutions like NATO and the United Nations, for all their flaws, provide vital arenas for talking rather than fighting. NATO’s role in Europe, bolstering defenses while fostering dialogue, has kept the peace for decades, and its response to Russia’s aggression in Ukraine underscores its enduring relevance. The UN, meanwhile, offers a global stage, tackling everything from nuclear proliferation to humanitarian crises. These bodies aren’t perfect (vetoes in the Security Council and bureaucratic inertia often stall progress) but their mere existence is a potential lifeline that could spare humanity from World War III.
Nuclear weapons, while a source of existential dread, also fosters deterrence. The doctrine of mutually assured destruction (MAD) has held sway since the Cold War, a grim pact where no side dares strike first, knowing the retaliation would obliterate all. Why, for example, would Vladimir Putin launch a tactical or strategic nuclear weapon? Russia and the world would be obliterated, and the war in Ukraine would be meaningless. It’s a brutal logic, but it’s worked. Leaders in Washington, Moscow, and Beijing grasp that nuclear war has no winners, only ashes. This restraint, however, isn’t foolproof. The Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962 showed how close the world can come to the edge, saved only by last-minute backchannels and cooler heads. Today, with more players and new technologies in the mix, the risks of miscommunication or accident loom larger. A hacked early-warning system or a panicked response to a false alarm could unravel decades of deterrence. Arms control agreements, like the New START treaty, and crisis hotlines are critical to keeping this balance, but they’re under pressure as trust erodes. Nuclear caution is a powerful force for peace, but it’s a tightrope walk, one that requires constant vigilance to avoid a fall.
Finally, and most importantly, there’s the human factor. I believe that there is a deep-seated desire for peace that pulses through developed societies, especially in the West. (For this paragraph, I won’t be using any sources or data, just intuition. I’m doing this because the human factor, at least the way I interpret it, is not fully captured by soulless data). In Europe and the U.S., the memory of two world wars and more recent conflicts have left a lasting imprint. People know the cost of war and recoil from it. Just ask any American what they think about our adventures in the Middle-East after 9/11. But turning this instinct into policy is tricky. The court of public opinion can be fickle as it is swayed by immediate crises or drowned out by domestic noise. Grassroots movements (think of globalized anti-war protests where people don’t pick sides, and protest war) can sway some hearts, but they need focus and staying power. When push comes to shove, I believe governments and their leaders are rational actors who will feel intense pressure to act decisively, whether by funding diplomacy or rallying allies. The challenge is bridging the gap between this yearning for peace and the concrete steps to secure it. This gap between a desire for peace and concrete steps, if closed, could tip the scales toward a safer future.
Looking ahead, the next decade looms as a defining test for humanity. The risks are stark: rivalries that could boil over, nuclear arsenals that could multiply, technologies that could misfire. If you want my opinion, I am willing to say that the risk of World War III occurring in the next 10 years is a coin-flip. I’ve taken the time to study all the factors and write an entire article about it, but ultimately, no one knows what the future holds. However, the future isn’t written, and there’s still time to chart a course away from the abyss. But it will take leaders who see the big picture, citizens who demand accountability, and a global community willing to confront hard truths.
This article is part of the Deep Dive section, where we unpack the geopolitics and domestic politics behind the headlines.
About the Author: Marco Rodriguez is a political analyst and writer focusing on U.S. domestic politics, foreign policy, security, and global power dynamics. His work blends deep historical insight with sharp contemporary analysis. He is the creator of this Substack, where he explores the intersection of power, diplomacy, conflict, and leadership in the 21st century.