The more one reads about military spending and the Soviet-American nuclear arsenal, the closer one draws to despair. Precious little in this lugubrious literature inspires confidence in the course of human events, in the power of reason or nurturing decency to shape the future, in the capacity of men and women to govern themselves or lead nations to any purposes except self-interest, intolerance, and territoriality. We damn well had better drop whatever we are doing—lay aside worries about car repairs and vacation plans, put out of mind our mid-life crises and petty academic squabbles—and summon courage. Not the strength to arm ourselves and fight, but the unprecedented courage it will take to attempt a halt in the process, so long underway, of arming for self-destruction. Special courage because the process may be inexorable, the destruction inevitable. It may be too late, and we may be too badly flawed. Nonetheless, we truly must try to rise above ourselves.

By no means may we ordinary citizens claim that such issues are beyond our reach. The most impressive new writings on the subject of military policy are uncommonly well written and accessible. Jonathan Schell's The Fate of the Earth (Knopf, $11.95), which appeared as a three-part series in The New Yorker last February, examines the prospect of nuclear conflict in technical detail and with a moral sensitivity seldom found in the genre. James Fallows' National Defense (Random House, $12.95) offers a model of