Nuclear Strategist Alex Wellerstein Lists 15 U.S. Cities Potential First Strikes in a Theoretical WWIII
In today’s volatile geopolitical climate, apprehension about the possibility of war has subtly woven itself into daily life. Though rarely vocalized outright, it undercurrents public discourse, shaping perceptions of news and global leadership. Political turbulence, military brinkmanship, and sharp diplomatic rhetoric have eroded assumptions of stability. In the U.S., this anxiety is compounded by the gap between campaign promises of restraint and a series of tense international incidents. While avoiding foreign conflicts was once seen as a path to safety, recent years have felt defined by unpredictability, fostering a creeping realization that the world’s stability may be more fragile than it appears.
This unease is amplified by high-profile geopolitical actions—Venezuela interventions, aggressive rhetoric toward Iran, and bizarre overtures about Greenland—that have strained alliances and norms. Some view these as calculated moves; others see recklessness. Regardless, they compound a growing sense of instability. Even when direct conflict is averted, such actions erode trust and normalize volatility, pushing worst-case scenarios—once unimaginable—into the realm of personal worry.
At the heart of these fears lies the prospect of a third world war, a conflict whose devastation would eclipse all historical precedents. Optimists argue that deterrence, nuclear treaties, and mutual assured destruction deter escalation. Pessimists counter that history proves miscalculations—whether rooted in pride, fear, or miscommunication—can spiral beyond control. In a world with thousands of nuclear weapons, there is no room for error. The risk isn’t malicious intent but a cascade of choices that outpace human control.
Nuclear historian Alex Wellerstein of Stevens Institute of Technology notes that target selection in a nuclear conflict depends on the attacker’s goals. A strategic adversary like Russia might prioritize military assets—command centers, missile silos, and bases—to cripple retaliation. A terrorist-minded foe could target cities or symbols, maximizing terror. This distinction is chilling: it places not only iconic urban centers but also smaller cities hosting critical infrastructure at risk. For residents of these towns, the idea that their home could be a strategic target is deeply unsettling.
Several lesser-known U.S. cities repeatedly surface in these analyses due to their proximity to military installations. Great Falls, Montana, near Malmstrom Air Force Base’s ICBM silos, exemplifies this dynamic. Cheyenne, Wyoming, and Utah’s Ogden and Clearfield—close to Francis E. Warren and Hill Air Force Bases—are similarly vulnerable. In the South, Shreveport’s location near Barksdale Air Force Base, home to nuclear-capable B-52s, adds civilian populations to the risk equation. Though these cities lack global fame, their strategic geography could make them focal points in a nuclear conflict.
Major cities also remain high-value targets, illustrating the conflict’s global fallout. Honolulu’s Pacific military hubs, Omaha’s Offutt Air Force Base (a nuclear command center), and Colorado Springs’ NORAD headquarters underscore how intertwined nuclear infrastructure is with civilian life. Cities like Washington, D.C., Los Angeles, and New York City are cited not just for their military or political roles but for their cultural and economic symbolism. The destruction of any would ripple worldwide. While this doesn’t predict doom, the open discussion of such scenarios reflects deepening concern about global governance and humanity’s capacity to manage its deadliest tools.
