Nuclear weapons are what keep him alive
As a new American administration prepared to take office in January 2021, Kim Jong Un stood before North Korea's ruling elite and declared that nuclear modernization would proceed — battlefield weapons, missile-evading warheads, submarine-launched missiles — regardless of the economic ruin his own border closures had already inflicted on his people. The paradox was stark and clarifying: a regime that had voluntarily collapsed its own economy to keep out a virus was not a regime that sanctions alone could bend. For the incoming Biden administration, and for the longer arc of nonproliferation history, North Korea posed the oldest and most unresolved of questions — whether any external pressure can change a government that has already decided survival and sovereignty are the same thing.
- Kim Jong Un unveiled sweeping nuclear modernization plans at a party congress just days before Biden's inauguration, including tactical warheads and missiles designed to evade American defenses — a deliberate signal that no change in Washington would alter Pyongyang's course.
- North Korea's self-imposed COVID-19 isolation had already done what years of sanctions could not, severing trade with China and pushing food supplies toward famine-level scarcity, yet Kim announced expensive new weapons programs anyway.
- The Trump administration's 'maximum pressure' campaign — which had once barred North Korea from nearly all international commerce — had been quietly abandoned ahead of the Singapore summit, and China had since loosened its enforcement, leaving Biden with a weakened toolkit.
- Analysts warned that intensified sanctions targeting Chinese banks and trading companies could cause even greater civilian suffering, but history offered little hope: Kim Jong Il had allowed millions to starve in the 1990s rather than yield, and his son showed no different instinct.
- Biden faced a fractured diplomatic landscape — China and Russia unwilling to enforce new restrictions, South Korea favoring engagement — while North Korea's new weapons would likely require live tests that could trigger a crisis in the administration's opening weeks.
- The fundamental question left unanswered was whether any outside force could convince Kim that nuclear weapons threatened rather than guaranteed his survival, when he had already proven willing to inflict that suffering on himself.
In early January 2021, Kim Jong Un addressed North Korea's governing elite with a declaration that carried the weight of a long-settled decision: the country would press forward with nuclear modernization — tactical battlefield weapons, warheads engineered to evade American missile defenses, a new submarine-launched ballistic missile paraded days later for the world to see. Nuclear deterrence, Kim made clear, was non-negotiable regardless of who sat in the White House or what economic pain the country endured.
The timing was jarring because North Korea's economy was already in freefall — not from sanctions, but from Kim's own choices. In 2020, he had severed nearly all trade with the outside world, including with China, to keep COVID-19 from reaching a healthcare system that could not have survived an outbreak. The self-imposed isolation was more severe than anything international pressure had achieved. Food shortages had reached levels not seen since the catastrophic famine of the 1990s. Kim had essentially done to his own country what Washington had long hoped sanctions would accomplish — and still he announced new weapons programs.
This paradox cut to the heart of the challenge awaiting the Biden administration. The Trump years had seen a 'maximum pressure' campaign of genuine ambition: UN Security Council bans on North Korean coal and seafood exports, Treasury Department financial pressure, diplomatic efforts to shutter North Korean embassies used as money-laundering fronts. By late 2017, even China had signed on to punishing restrictions. Then Trump pivoted to summitry, shelved hundreds of ready sanctions, and the campaign lost its momentum. China quietly eased enforcement. Three summits produced little of substance.
Some experts urged Biden to return to pressure — and intensify it, targeting Chinese banks facilitating North Korean currency access. The logic was to shake Kim's conviction that nuclear weapons guaranteed his regime's survival. But history offered a grim counterargument. Kim Jong Il had let millions starve in the 1990s rather than reform. His son had just demonstrated the same calculus in real time. As one analyst put it plainly: North Korea had subjected itself to economic pain more extreme than any sanctions regime, and still had not budged on the nuclear question.
Biden inherited a landscape with few clean options. Renewed sanctions risked slamming the door on diplomacy, as Pyongyang had always framed such measures as acts of war. Engagement risked rewarding a regime that had made no concessions. China and Russia had no appetite for enforcement. South Korea's president favored cooperation over pressure. And the new weapons Kim had announced would likely require live testing to become operational — a potential crisis arriving in Biden's first days in office, competing for attention with a raging pandemic, a fractured nation, and an impeachment. North Korea had always been the problem that waited for no one, and 2021 would be no different.
Kim Jong Un stood before North Korea's governing elite in early January 2021 with a message that cut through months of economic devastation: his country would forge ahead with an ambitious nuclear modernization program, consequences be damned. At the Eighth Workers' Party Congress, he laid out plans for tactical nuclear weapons designed for battlefield use and warheads engineered to slip past American missile defenses. Days later, a military parade showcased a new submarine-launched ballistic missile. The signal was unmistakable. Nuclear weapons, Kim declared, were essential to deter the United States regardless of who occupied the White House—and no economic hardship would change that calculation.
The timing of this announcement was striking because North Korea's economy was in freefall. The previous year, Kim had made a fateful decision: sever nearly all trade with the outside world, including with China, the country's economic lifeline, to keep Covid-19 at bay. It was a self-imposed isolation more severe than anything international sanctions had achieved. Food supplies were strained to levels not seen since the devastating famine of the 1990s. The regime had essentially done to itself what Washington had long hoped sanctions would accomplish—pushed the economy to the brink of collapse. Yet here was Kim, announcing expensive new weapons programs anyway.
This paradox posed a fundamental question for the incoming Biden administration: If Kim had voluntarily inflicted economic pain far worse than sanctions could manage, and still refused to abandon his nuclear ambitions, could sanctions ever work? The Trump administration had tried. Before pivoting to diplomacy in 2018, it had pursued a strategy called "maximum pressure." The United States lobbied the UN Security Council to ban North Korea's trade in coal and seafood. The Treasury Department wielded its influence over global finance to impose unilateral sanctions. Diplomats pressured allies to close North Korean embassies suspected of serving as money-laundering fronts. By the end of 2017, North Korea was barred from almost all international commerce. Even China, Pyongyang's longtime ally, had signed on to punishing UN restrictions and appeared to enforce them initially.
Then Trump changed course. As he prepared for his first summit with Kim in Singapore, hundreds of ready-to-deploy sanctions were shelved. The pressure campaign lost momentum. China began loosening its enforcement, according to American officials, though Beijing denied the charge. Many experts believed Washington had abandoned maximum pressure too early. Former acting assistant secretary of state Evans Revere argued that Biden should consider a new, intensified pressure campaign—one that would impose "even more pain and isolation" on North Korea. Such measures could target Chinese banks facilitating North Korean access to foreign currency and close more trading companies. The goal would be to shake the regime's confidence that nuclear weapons guaranteed survival, to convince Kim that the weapons themselves threatened regime stability.
But this approach carried grave risks. History suggested Kim would choose funding his nuclear program over feeding his people. His father, Kim Jong Il, had allowed millions to starve during the 1990s famine rather than reform or accept aid that might weaken his grip on power. Current conditions, while not yet catastrophic, were dire. Devastating storms, sanctions, and the pandemic had pummeled the economy in 2020. Food shortages were nationwide. Chad O'Carroll, CEO of Korea Risk Group, which publishes North Korea analysis, confirmed that key food items were in short supply across the country.
Yet Kim's border closure appeared to have worked as public health policy. North Korea's claim of zero Covid cases was almost certainly false, but the country had avoided the kind of outbreak that would have overwhelmed its decrepit healthcare system. Kim was unlikely to reopen borders until the pandemic subsided, meaning Pyongyang would continue inflicting economic pain on itself to achieve its objectives. John Delury, a professor at Yonsei University's Graduate School of International Relations, saw in this a sobering lesson: "North Korea subjected itself to an even more extreme form of economic pain than sanctions to keep away Covid. And yet, they're not budging on the nuclear thing."
Biden inherited a problem that had confounded six predecessors. The new weapons Kim had announced were at various stages of development and would likely require test-firing to become operational—a move that could trigger diplomatic confrontation in Biden's first days in office. The incoming administration hinted at a multilateral approach, possibly drawing inspiration from the Iran nuclear deal. But major obstacles loomed. China and Russia showed no appetite for enforcing even existing sanctions, let alone new ones. South Korean President Moon Jae-in favored engagement and economic cooperation over pressure. If Biden pursued sanctions, North Korea would likely slam the door on negotiations, as it had in the past, calling such measures "acts of war." If he chose dialogue, he faced the sobering reality that three previous summits had yielded little of substance. And looming over all of it was the sheer weight of other crises demanding his attention: the pandemic raging at home, a fractured nation, impeachment proceedings. The North Korea challenge would not wait, but neither would anything else.
Notable Quotes
North Korea subjected itself to an even more extreme form of economic pain than sanctions to keep away Covid. And yet, they're not budging on the nuclear thing.— John Delury, professor at Yonsei University's Graduate School of International Relations
Intensification of sanctions, plus other diplomatic, economic and banking and military pressures could certainly shake the regime's foundations, particularly now that we see the regime is suffering a severe economic crisis.— Evans Revere, former acting assistant secretary of state for East Asia and the Pacific
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does Kim keep building nuclear weapons when his own people are hungry?
Because from his perspective, nuclear weapons are what keep him alive. His father let millions starve rather than give up control. Kim sees the weapons as insurance against regime change—the one thing that makes the US think twice about invasion.
But if sanctions haven't stopped him, and now he's voluntarily isolated his country even more severely than sanctions would, doesn't that prove pressure doesn't work?
That's what some analysts are saying. But others argue the opposite—that now is precisely when maximum pressure could work, because the economy is already broken. One more push might be the breaking point.
What's stopping Biden from just doing that?
China and Russia won't enforce it. South Korea doesn't want confrontation. And if Biden leans too hard on sanctions, North Korea will refuse to talk at all. He's caught between pressure and diplomacy, and both paths have failed before.
So what happens if Kim tests one of these new weapons?
That forces Biden's hand immediately. He has to respond somehow—sanctions, diplomacy, or something else. And he has to do it while managing a pandemic, a divided country, and impeachment proceedings. North Korea isn't his only crisis.
Is there any scenario where this ends well?
Not obviously. The weapons are getting more sophisticated. The economy is already devastated. And Kim has shown he'll accept starvation rather than abandon the program. Biden's predecessors all faced this same wall. He's just the next one to hit it.