With global tensions periodically resurfacing and nuclear threats once again appearing in headlines, many people are asking a sobering question: if a large-scale nuclear war were to break out, would anywhere on Earth truly be safe? While experts consistently emphasize that such a scenario remains unlikely, the destructive potential of modern arsenals makes the question difficult to ignore. Interestingly, some researchers and analysts argue that survival would depend less on blast shelters and more on geography, climate, and food security. According to investigative journalist Annie Jacobsen, two countries in particular could offer significantly better odds of long-term survival: New Zealand and Australia. Her argument centers not on avoiding explosions alone, but on enduring what follows — especially the prolonged global famine predicted under nuclear winter scenarios.

Jacobsen discussed this topic during an appearance on The Diary of a CEO, hosted by entrepreneur Steven Bartlett. Drawing on scientific research, she explained that countries in the Southern Hemisphere may be better positioned to withstand the aftermath of a large-scale nuclear exchange. The primary concern is nuclear winter — a theory suggesting that massive firestorms ignited by detonations would send soot and smoke into the upper atmosphere, blocking sunlight and drastically cooling the planet. With temperatures dropping and sunlight reduced, agriculture in much of the Northern Hemisphere could collapse. Jacobsen referenced projections suggesting that regions such as the American Midwest and Eastern Europe, major global breadbaskets, could experience years of crop failure. If agricultural systems fail on that scale, the resulting famine could claim far more lives than the explosions themselves.

Central to this argument is the research of atmospheric scientist Owen Toon, whose team has modeled the climatic consequences of nuclear conflict. Updated simulations suggest that even a limited exchange between major nuclear powers could inject enough soot into the atmosphere to significantly disrupt global food production. In worst-case full-scale scenarios, studies have estimated that billions could face starvation. The danger would not end with falling temperatures. Ozone layer depletion, increased ultraviolet radiation, and widespread contamination could make outdoor agriculture dangerous or impossible in many regions. Survivors in heavily affected areas might be forced underground, competing for dwindling food supplies. According to Jacobsen’s interpretation of this research, nations with resilient agricultural infrastructure, lower population density, and geographic insulation would stand a better chance of sustaining themselves through prolonged disruption.

Geography plays a major role in this assessment. Both New Zealand and Australia are distant from the Northern Hemisphere’s largest nuclear powers and from many of the primary military targets that would likely be struck in an all-out exchange. While neither country is completely removed from global alliances or strategic considerations, their relative isolation reduces the likelihood of direct strikes compared to regions dense with missile silos, military bases, or command centers. In the United States, for example, intercontinental ballistic missile fields located in states such as Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Nebraska, and North Dakota are widely considered potential targets in a major conflict. Scientific analyses published in outlets like Scientific American have explored how such sites could be struck with high-yield warheads designed to neutralize retaliatory capability. The immediate devastation from these strikes would be catastrophic, producing fireballs, shockwaves, and radioactive fallout across wide areas.

Other publications, including Newsweek, have examined which American states might be least likely to experience direct impacts. Regions farther from known nuclear infrastructure could avoid the worst of the initial blasts. However, even areas spared from direct attack would not escape global consequences. Fallout patterns depend on wind currents, and nuclear winter effects would not respect national borders. Food distribution systems, energy grids, and international trade would likely collapse, amplifying humanitarian crises worldwide. This is why Jacobsen and other analysts stress that long-term agricultural viability is more important than simply being outside the blast radius. Nations capable of producing sufficient calories domestically, especially those with temperate climates less prone to extreme cooling, would have a comparative advantage in sustaining their populations.

Despite these projections, experts consistently caution that no location would be completely immune from the ripple effects of a large-scale nuclear war. Global supply chains are deeply interconnected, and economic collapse would accompany environmental disruption. Even in comparatively favorable regions, infrastructure strain, refugee flows, and political instability could pose severe challenges. The broader takeaway from such discussions is not necessarily about relocation, but about prevention. Nuclear winter research underscores the staggering humanitarian cost of nuclear conflict and reinforces long-standing arguments for arms control and diplomatic engagement. While countries like New Zealand and Australia may appear statistically better positioned to endure the aftermath due to geography and agricultural capacity, the reality remains sobering: in a full-scale nuclear exchange, the entire planet would suffer. The only truly safe outcome lies in preventing such a conflict from occurring at all.