Russia announces doomsday torpedo test without verification as Trump calls Putin weak
Moscow's nuclear weapons claims intensify following 'paper tiger' provocation, but independent evidence remains absent
Vladimir Putin sat drinking tea with wounded soldiers at a Moscow military hospital on Wednesday when he announced Russia had activated a nuclear reactor inside a torpedo for the first time. The Poseidon underwater drone, he claimed, was now more powerful than Russia's Sarmat intercontinental ballistic missile ā itself still undeployed despite seven years of promises.
What Putin didn't mention was equally revealing. Western intelligence agencies that routinely track Russian weapons tests saw no clear signs of the major operation such a breakthrough would demand. Monitoring vessels, NATO reconnaissance flights, the electronic signatures expected when starting a nuclear propulsion system ā all conspicuously absent or ambiguous. Six unidentified ships appeared near Novaya Zemlya, Russia's Arctic weapons testing ground, but this constitutes thin evidence for activating a "doomsday weapon."
The timing tells the real story. Five weeks earlier, Donald Trump publicly mocked Russia as a "paper tiger" at the United Nations, noting the Ukraine war "should have taken a real military power less than a week to win." Within days came a cascade of Russian nuclear announcements: Burevestnik missile test on 21 October, nuclear drills on 22 October, Poseidon claim on 28 October. Putin's message was clear ā but the question is whether substance matches the signalling.
A history of spectacular claims
Russia's super weapons have a credibility problem. During that same hospital visit, Putin acknowledged the Sarmat intercontinental ballistic missile ā unveiled with fanfare in 2018 and declared operational in 2023 ā remains "not yet deployed". It will be ready "soon," he promised again. The missile has suffered four test failures since its single successful flight in 2022, most recently destroying its own launch silo in September 2024 and leaving a 62-metre crater visible from space.
The Burevestnik nuclear cruise missile follows the same pattern. Western analysts report 13 tests with only two partial successes, according to United States intelligence assessments. A 2019 test killed five nuclear engineers and two service members during recovery operations, with radioactivity spiking in a nearby Arctic city. Seven years after Putin's announcement, the weapon gained infamy before operational capability.
Independent verification of the latest Burevestnik test remains equally thin. Russian officials claim the missile flew 15 hours and covered 14,000 kilometres on 21 October, but Western analysts have yet to confirm these specifications. The pattern is consistent: dramatic announcements, scarce verification, operational deployment perpetually "soon."
Slow weapons in a fast world
Even if these systems eventually work, experts question their military value. Pavel Podvig, director of the Russian Nuclear Forces Project, argues their mission is "to give the Russian president the ability to say 'we have systems that simply aren't affected by your missile defence'" ā not to fundamentally alter strategic balance. "The main reason nobody has built this system," Podvig observes, "is that it's not a very effective weapon."
The problem is speed. Both Poseidon and Burevestnik are remarkably slow compared with intercontinental ballistic missiles. The Burevestnik, based on claimed test performance, flies at roughly 580 miles per hour ā about the speed of existing Russian cruise missiles. Pentagon estimates suggest Poseidon travels at 30 to 55 knots underwater, slower than many conventional torpedoes.
This matters enormously. A Burevestnik attack on North America could take many hours; a Poseidon might require days to reach coastal targets. Compare this with intercontinental ballistic missiles, which traverse similar distances in 30 minutes, or hypersonic weapons travelling at five times the speed of sound. The slower weapons move, the more time defenders have to detect, track, and intercept them. The supposed advantage erodes.
Technological advances will further undermine effectiveness. Quantum sensing and improved undersea sensor networks promise to make the "stealthy" Poseidon increasingly detectable, whilst drone interceptors and artificial intelligence could enable low-cost defences to engage slow-moving cruise missiles more effectively. Russia may be perfecting weapons obsolete before deployment.
Missing evidence for doomsday claims
The verification gap for the Poseidon test is striking. Putin announced Russia had, "for the first time," activated a nuclear propulsion system inside a torpedo. This would represent genuine technical achievement ā demonstrating a compact nuclear reactor can start safely, survive underwater launch, and power the vehicle through open water.
Such a test should leave traces. Previous major Russian weapons tests have involved extensive preparations: support vessels monitoring telemetry, recovery ships standing by, airspace restrictions preventing civilian observation, increased activity at launch facilities visible to satellites. When the Sarmat failed catastrophically in September 2024, satellite imagery captured the destruction immediately ā a 62-metre crater provided undeniable proof something significant occurred, even if not what Russia intended.
For Poseidon, such evidence is elusive. Western analysts noted six unidentified ships off Novaya Zemlya on the claimed test date, but with significant caveats. The analyst who reported this described findings as "preliminary" and noted no NOTAMs (Notices to Airmen) or PRIPs (Prior Permission Required zones) were issued ā procedures that normally accompany major weapons tests. Six vessels don't constitute the extensive support operation expected for such a milestone.
The absence of visible NATO intelligence response is equally puzzling. Previous Russian strategic tests typically draw reconnaissance aircraft, monitoring ships, and increased satellite observation. For a test successfully activating nuclear propulsion for the first time ā a genuine breakthrough if true ā one might expect intense Western intelligence interest. That such interest isn't obviously visible suggests either extraordinary Russian operational security or Western intelligence agencies don't consider the claimed test particularly significant.
The contrast with verifiable tests is instructive. When Russia tests systems that actually work, evidence emerges. When announcements arrive without verification, the pattern suggests diplomatic rather than technical objectives.
Responding to 'paper tiger' provocation
Trump's September characterisation of Russia as a "paper tiger" struck Putin's most sensitive nerve: great-power status. The American president argued Russia's inability to defeat Ukraine quickly demonstrated weakness, not strength. Kremlin spokesman Dmitry Peskov responded with a bizarre defence: "Russia is by no means a tiger" but rather "a bear," and "there is no such thing as paper bears."
Putin's response came through actions, not words. Within five weeks: Burevestnik announcement, nuclear drills, Poseidon claim. Each announcement timed for maximum diplomatic impact, each reinforcing the message that Russia remains a nuclear superpower regardless of conventional military setbacks.
Western analysts have interpreted these tests primarily as strategic signalling rather than military developments. Reports from Europe and the United States treat the Poseidon announcement chiefly as diplomatic messaging coinciding with stalled peace talks and renewed sanctions discussions. The technical details matter less than the political message.
This interpretation gains weight from Russia's strategic position. According to the United States Defence Intelligence Agency's 2025 assessment, Russia "almost certainly seeks to avoid direct conflict with NATO because it assesses it cannot win a conventional military confrontation with the alliance." After nearly four years struggling to defeat Ukraine ā a country with far smaller military and industrial capacity ā nuclear signalling becomes the means to maintain deterrence and great-power status despite disappointing conventional performance.
Russian military doctrine explicitly combines what it calls "strategic deterrence" ā blending non-military means, conventional capabilities, and nuclear weapons into continuous actions aimed at deterrence and escalation management. The weapons announcements fit this framework precisely. They needn't represent immediate operational capabilities to serve strategic purposes. The announcements themselves become tools of statecraft.
When the message matters more than the missile
The pattern emerging from Russia's super weapons reveals something significant about contemporary strategic competition. Arms control experts from the Centre for Strategic and International Studies observe that "Russia will at times overstate its capabilities in order to project strength," noting this can "obfuscate actual capabilities, create uncertainty around Russia's intent, and intensify US weapon development, thus heightening strategic instability." The Poseidon announcement fits this pattern precisely.
Consider what Russia has demonstrated versus what it claims. Sarmat: unveiled 2018, still undeployed after multiple test failures. Burevestnik: 13 tests, two partial successes, one fatal disaster. Poseidon: dramatic announcement, no independent verification, perfect timing to respond to diplomatic pressure. Each announcement generates headlines about revolutionary Russian capabilities, regardless of operational reality.
This serves Russian interests even if the weapons never reach full deployment. The announcements maintain Russia's image as a military innovator, provide diplomatic leverage in arms control negotiations, and cost relatively little compared with fielding actual operational systems at scale. They cannot be definitively disproven without Russia providing verification access ā access Moscow has no incentive to grant. The ambiguity itself serves strategic purposes.
The West faces a dilemma. Take the claims too seriously, and risk diverting resources toward countering weapons that may never materialise. Dismiss them entirely, and risk surprise if Russia eventually succeeds. This uncertainty forces Western planners to hedge their assessments and prepare for multiple scenarios ā precisely what Moscow wants.
The broader context makes Russia's approach comprehensible, if concerning. With conventional forces struggling in Ukraine, an economy under severe sanctions, and a president whose legitimacy rests partly on restoring great-power status, nuclear weapons represent the most credible foundation for Russia's continued relevance. Putin cannot match NATO's conventional strength or China's economic dynamism, but Russia's nuclear arsenal remains formidable. In strategic competition, being believed to have revolutionary nuclear capabilities can prove nearly as valuable as possessing them.
The Poseidon announcement, viewed clearly, reveals less about Russian technical achievement and more about Russian strategic anxiety. The verification gap, the timing following Trump's mockery, the contrast with the still-undeployed Sarmat, the pattern of dramatic announcements without operational reality ā all suggest these claims serve immediate diplomatic purposes rather than herald imminent deployment.
For observers assessing Russia's actual capabilities versus claimed capabilities, the lesson is straightforward: watch what Russia deploys, not merely what it announces. Announcements serve diplomatic purposes and come easily. Operational deployment of novel nuclear systems requires overcoming substantial technical challenges, extensive testing with visible signatures, and significant resource investment. Until independent verification confirms Russia has fielded these revolutionary weapons, the announcements remain the most potent aspect of Russia's "doomsday" arsenal ā not the hardware, but the headlines.