If you ever saw the movie Fail Safe, you got a glimpse of how the highest echelons of American government handle nuclear weapons (pretty badly, according to the movie—and why didn’t President Fonda bomb Washington, D.C., instead of New York—inside-the-beltway sympathy?) At any rate, as the film shows, the codes that would permit the President to launch a nuclear strike on another nation are kept in a small case handcuffed to the wrist of a military aide whose job it is to follow the President around wherever he goes (including the bathroom? I’ve often wondered about that. I have an inquisitive mind.)

Now it’s obvious that technology does not stand still.  If Star Trek is any guide, one day we’ll all be talking to our computers—conversationally, I mean, not with unilateral threats of destruction as is now common. In fact, talking to computers is happening more often even today; voice recognition capabilities are being used in several areas of the military, such as fighter aircraft.  But there are still some bugs that need to be worked out, as the Wikipedia article on voice recognition technologies attests:

Working with Swedish pilots flying in the JAS-39 Gripen cockpit, Englund (2004) found [voice] recognition [on the part of the computer] deteriorated with increasing G-loads. It was also concluded that adaptation greatly improved the results in all cases and introducing models for breathing was shown to improve recognition scores significantly. Contrary to what might be expected, no effects of the broken English of the speakers were found. It was evident that spontaneous speech caused problems for the recognizer, as could be expected. A restricted vocabulary, and above all, a proper syntax, could thus be expected to improve recognition accuracy substantially.

In other words, jet fighter computers may have to stay after school for remedial instruction; but only if the pilots have learned how to breathe right:

The Eurofighter Typhoon currently in service with the UK RAF employs a speaker-dependent system, i.e., it requires each pilot to create a template. The system is not used for any safety critical or weapon critical tasks, such as weapon release or lowering of the undercarriage, but is used for a wide range of other cockpit functions. Voice commands are confirmed by visual and/or aural feedback. The system is seen as a major design feature in the reduction of pilot workload, and even allows the pilot to assign targets to himself with two simple voice commands or to any of his wingmen with only five commands.

This shows a burst of common sense from our British cousins; the pilot can’t accidentally tell the wheels to go up or down or fire a missile just in case he loses his temper and says something he shouldn’t.

So what has all this to do with Henry Fonda?  Well, consider our current President: Everybody knows that one of the requirements for a position in his administration is the necessity of pronouncing "nuclear" "nookyulur."  It’s the sine qua non of employment in the White House, the shibboleth that gets you through the front door; saying "nookyulur" signifies you’re an insider.

Well, as I noted earlier, technology doesn’t stagnate. The codes in that small case strapped to the military aide’s arm are likely transmitted by the President electromechanically, meaning the prez pushes buttons or throws switches and the information gets passed along. 

But one day we’ll be living in a Star Trek world, conversing amiably with toasters, talking to our lawnmowers, and so forth.  The President will be able to obliterate Patagonia with just a few well-chosen words. By then, voice recognition software will have to have developed to the point that, regardless of whether the President says "nuclear" or "nookyulur," the bombs will still get delivered and everybody will breathe a sigh of relief—except the Patagonians, of course.