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Nuclear, explained.

For more than half a century, Australia has been a non-nuclear-weapon state – this was not inevitable. (Getty Images Plus)
Softening public opposition to nuclear weapons reflects anxiety, not policy.
Most Australians remain opposed to Australia acquiring nuclear weapons. In the 2026 Lowy Poll, however, that opposition has softened (Opens in new window) by five points since 2022.
While unsettling, this may be unsurprising: Australians also reported feeling less safe (Opens in new window) about world events, less trusting (Opens in new window) of the United States to act responsibly and less confident (Opens in new window) in the current US president “to do the right thing regarding world affairs”.
This is far from a public mandate for an Australian nuclear arsenal. Nor is it a social licence to weaponise. Rather, some Australians are anxious and seeking reassurance through a nuclear deterrent: the oft-described (Opens in new window) “ultimate insurance policy”.
The premium would be enormous.
Becoming nuclear-armed would recast Australia’s defence posture and carry serious legal, diplomatic and moral consequences. It would destroy decades of Australian leadership on non-proliferation, and damage global efforts on disarmament and arms control.
The “control” in arms control is eroding. Nuclear-weapon states are modernising their arsenals (Opens in new window) and some are expanding them. The last three Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons (NPT) Review Conferences have failed (Opens in new window) to reach a consensus outcome. Meanwhile, the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) continues to warn (Opens in new window) it cannot verify inventories of declared nuclear material in Iran, including highly enriched uranium.
Commentary canvassing (Opens in new window) a change (Opens in new window) in Australia’s nuclear position (Opens in new window) resurfaces (Opens in new window) when confidence (Opens in new window) in US extended deterrence wavers. International law deserves much greater attention in these discussions. It makes clear what Australia would stand to lose.
For more than half a century, Australia has been a non-nuclear-weapon state. This was not inevitable. When negotiating the NPT, Australia was among more than a dozen “near-nuclear countries (Opens in new window)”. Officials and scientists explored (Opens in new window) options for acquiring or developing nuclear weapons during the Cold War. Australia’s path (Opens in new window) to ratifying the NPT in 1973 involved debate about whether it could rely on the US nuclear umbrella.
Reversing that choice would mean facing the NPT’s (Opens in new window) withdrawal clause. Extraordinary as it may seem, Australia would need to give notice to treaty parties and the UN Security Council, and declare that “extraordinary events” had jeopardised its “supreme interests”.
Australia gave effect to its NPT commitments by concluding a Comprehensive Safeguards Agreement (Opens in new window) in 1974. The need to strengthen (Opens in new window) safeguards grew in the 1990s after Iraq and North Korea exposed limitations in detecting undeclared nuclear material and activities. Australia played a key role in negotiating the Additional Protocol (Opens in new window), giving the IAEA broader information and access. Australia became (Opens in new window) the first state to bring one into force in 1997.
Becoming nuclear-armed would recast Australia's defence posture and carry serious legal, diplomatic and moral consequences.
Failure to meet safeguards obligations would trigger a serious escalation. The IAEA Board of Governors could reach a finding of non-compliance and request the Director General to report the matter to the UN Security Council, as occurred in the Iran (Opens in new window) case.
Industry and defence depend on safeguards as part of their enabling legal environment.Australia is a major uranium producer (Opens in new window). Bilateral nuclear cooperation agreements (Opens in new window) require Australia’s prior consent for high enrichment, reprocessing and retransfers. These controls help ensure that Australian obligated nuclear material remains for exclusively peaceful purposes. Australia and India recently signed (Opens in new window) an administrative arrangement under such an agreement, enabling long-term uranium exports “under IAEA safeguards”.
AUKUS makes Australia’s nuclear choices more visible. Its non-proliferation case rests on the distinction that Australia is acquiring nuclear-powered but conventionally-armed submarines, not nuclear-armed ones, backed by a commitment (Opens in new window) to “set the highest nuclear non-proliferation standard”. Countering misinformation and disinformation that frame these submarines as a backdoor to a nuclear weapons capability depends on this distinction.
Australia is negotiating (Opens in new window) an Article 14 arrangement under its Comprehensive Safeguards Agreement with the IAEA to apply safeguards to its naval nuclear propulsion program. A trilateral treaty (Opens in new window) also prohibits the transfer of nuclear material to Australia until that arrangement is in effect. Whatever one thinks of these nuclear choices, safeguards matter.

AUKUS makes Australia’s nuclear choices more visible: HMS Anson arrives at HMAS Stirling in Western Australia in February (Thomas Clarke-Kelly/Defence Imagery)
Nuclear weapons discussions cannot be separated from a long history (Opens in new window) of “nuclear colonialism (Opens in new window)”. British nuclear testing at Maralinga (Opens in new window), Emu Field (Opens in new window) and the Montebello Islands (Opens in new window), conducted with Australia’s permission, caused displacement and dispossession for affected First Nations communities, along with radioactive exposure and contamination of people and Country. Truth-telling continues. Defence personnel involved (Opens in new window) in testing were affected, too.
Intergenerational legacies of survival and scars also endure across the Pacific (Opens in new window). This month’s Pacific Peace Pilgrimage (Opens in new window) to Canberra, marking 80 years since the first US nuclear detonation in the Marshall Islands, echoed (Opens in new window) calls (Opens in new window) for Australia to sign the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons. Australia has refrained, noting (Opens in new window) “serious questions” about verification and enforcement, NPT interaction and the lack of nuclear-weapon state support.
Australia was closely involved in negotiating (Opens in new window) the Treaty of Rarotonga, which entered into force in 1986 and established the South Pacific Nuclear Free Zone. The zone grew from Pacific nations’ resistance to US, UK and French nuclear testing and concerns about radioactive waste dumping. Australia also ratified (Opens in new window) the Comprehensive Nuclear-Test-Ban Treaty in 1998 and hosts International Monitoring System facilities.
If this latest Lowy Poll result prompts debate, it should not be confined to deterrence. Softening public opposition to a nuclear-armed Australia must be discussed in light of the legal, diplomatic and moral costs. Leaders across politics and civil society must ensure the public understands those costs. Otherwise, a minority preference may grow, fuelled by a politics of fear.
About the author
Art Cotterell
Art Cotterell is a Postdoctoral Fellow in Nuclear Law at the UNSW Faculty of Law & Justice, and a member of the UNSW Nuclear Innovation Centre.