In January of this year, the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists’ Science and Security Board set its “Doomsday Clock” to 85 seconds to midnight, closer than it has been since the clock’s creation in 1947. 

Their announcement called for “urgent action to limit nuclear arsenals, create international guidelines on the use of AI, and form multilateral agreements to address global biological threats.”

For several generations, this metaphorical clock, with its initial focus on atomic weapons, was set to measure the Cold War. It started in the wake of World War II, alongside the United Nations and NATO, in the spirit of “never again.”

The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists has expanded its scope to encompass more threats than direct acts of war. Their key categories are Nuclear Risk, Climate Change, Biological Threats, and Disruptive Technologies.

What does this mean on Remembrance Day, when we mark the 1918 World War I armistice, signed at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month?

Armistice day began as a celebration of the end of the war. It was marked with parades as much as poppies. November 11, 1918 was immediately celebrated across the world. The Gazette’s front page trumpeted: 

NEWS RECEIVED AT 4 A.M.—BIG TORCHLIGHT PROCESSION ORGANIZED AT VICTORY LOAN HEADQUARTERS AT 5 A.M.—IMMENSE DEMONSTRATION IN AFTERNOON—THANKSGIVING SERVICE AT ARMORIES AT 2 P.M.—GRAND PROCESSION AND CELEBRATION AT 2.30 TO 3.45 —BIGGEST CELEBRATION EVER SEEN IN PICTON

The following year, the Gazette reported, “A year ago on the 11th of November, the Great War came to an end. This was a notable event in the history of the world, and Tuesday afternoon’s parade will serve to keep it in remembrance….The parade formed at the Public School and was led by the Citizen’s Band and Collegiate Cadets, followed by hundreds of school children with flags and banners, and many decorated motor cars carrying Victory Loan posters and other advertising matter.”

Of course, it was also the occasion to remember those who died in battle, and to thank those who survived for their selfless service. In the week following the first anniversary parade, a Gazette editorial, entitled, “Shall we forget our heroes?”, called for a monument. 

“Surely it ought not to be difficult for those who are interested in this scheme and who believe that the memory of the greatest event in modern history should be perpetuated, to unite upon some plan which will result in a suitable memorial.”

The committee to create what is now called the Cenotaph was struck in May 1920, and the memorial itself unveiled on 21 September of that year. It offered a beautiful and symbolic destination for the second annual Armistice parade. 

“Marching from the Armouries, led by the Citizens’ Band, both organizations proceeded to the County Memorial. There in two single files converging in front of the monument, they formed the letter V, a formation that might be taken as symbolic of ‘Victory’.”

The monument itself was described in terms that conveyed,  “this will never happen again.” A poem published on the front page of the paper includes the line, “[They] won the great prize for those that come after.”

It was referred to as the Great War—nobody thought to give it a number; that would have suggested the first of a series. The unthinkable.

The world learned a hard lesson only a generation later with the onset of World War II. Since the end of the second war, we have continued to commemorate those who sacrificed everything for us, but we have lost the sense of celebration, which was based on the simple idea that, as the Gazette reported in 1918, “The war is over.” 

The Doomsday Clock attests to this change in attitude. The fact that we can contemplate the reality of a “World War III” marks a loss of innocence.

The form that Remembrance Day takes is comforting. We wear our poppies. We gather in gratitude. We repeat the rituals: the laying of wreaths, the recitation of well-known words, the standing together in silence, the playing of the Last Post. It is comforting because it defines the threats we worry about. It limits them to the realm of political-military activity, which we believe can be controlled through what is best in us: bravery, principle, unselfishness, generosity, gratitude.

But, as the Doomsday Clock reminds us, “lest we forget” is not enough. Many of the threats we face now are fundamentally different from those marked by Armistice day. Today, although we can still pinpoint enemies — hostile, even maniacal, leaders, and the armies they command — we are also enmeshed in a vast and mostly invisible web of complicity, one that degrades our freedom from within, impoverishes moral thought, and starves populations.

“Lest we neglect,” might be a better phrase for our current predicament. Nuclear Risk, Climate Change, Biological Threats and Disruptive Technologies drive the Doomsday Clock. Perhaps Remembrance Day can become Attendance Day. We must attend to what is going on in the here and now to honour those who fought long before we arrived at our present moment. 

When we lay that wreath of thanks we owe it to those we remember to make this also a call to attention and to action, lest World War III be lost without our even noticing it was underway.