(3 of 3)
Genetics may open the door to still more macabre methods of destruction. In The Biological Time Bomb (World; $5.50), published last week, British Science Writer Gordon Rattray Taylor raises the specter of genetic warfare—one nation permanently weakening the people of another by infecting them with potent lab-made viruses carrying damaging hereditary material. Experiments have already shown that viral infections can make fruit flies fatally sensitive to such ordinary substances as carbon dioxide. M.I.T. Bacteriologist Salvador Luria speculates that some day a diabolical individual may be able to concoct a virus that renders men equally susceptible to specific substances. Then, says Luria, he could threaten to release the material unless the world did his bidding.
Ban the Germ. Few CBW specialists worry about such bizarre schemes. Figuring out defenses against the existing possibilities keeps them busy enough. And from gas masks to astronaut-type suits, air-filtering systems and early-warning devices, no known precautions promise to save more than a few people from a well-executed attack. No country is really fully prepared for the horrors of chemical or biological warfare, but repeated international efforts to outlaw CBW have not halted the growing interest in its potential. Few diplomats give Britain's current ban-the-germ campaign at the Geneva disarmament talks any realistic chance of succeeding.
Perhaps the worst aspect of CBW is the easy availability of its weapons. While the nuclear club remains relatively exclusive, nuclear arms can continue to provide a built-in deterrent—a balance of terror that restrains nuclear powers from starting a war in which winner and loser alike will figuratively glow in the dark. Members of the CBW club may soon multiply. And their very number could vastly increase the possibility that one of them could be tempted to exercise CBW's awful power.