Nuke deputy

I don't much worry about nuclear war, though there was a time when I did. It's not that I've become more optimistic over the prospects of its happening or not; it isn't to do with anything about the state of the world in fact, so much as it's that I haven't been thinking lately about the actual experience of it should it come about. This, though, has got me worrying:

After the pomp and ceremony of his departure from Buckingham Palace, his speech on the doorstep at No 10, and a partial reshuffle, Gordon Brown's role as prime minister began with an onerous and somewhat sobering task. Tony Blair, when faced with the duty, immediately went white in the face, said onlookers. John Major couldn't face it: he went home for the weekend.

As prime minister, with ultimate responsibility for Britain's nuclear deterrent, Mr Brown has to write a letter, in his own hand, giving instructions detailing what the UK's response should be in the event of a pre-emptive nuclear attack.

The letter will be opened only by the commander of a British Trident submarine, who would have to assume that the prime minister was no longer in a position to take "live" command of the situation. The options are said to include the orders: "Put yourself under the command of the US, if it is still there"; "go to Australia"; "retaliate"; "or use your own judgment".

I worry about it not in a personal, but in a detached way. At a time when, precisely, judgement, the weighing of options, a knowledge of the situation, are likely to be needed, some guy - OK the commander of a Trident submarine - may have to act on a written order decided on a while in advance. It would be better to have a PM's deputy, renowned for his or her practical wisdom, permanently floating about under water in case of such an emergency.