Spy stories die hard, especially since foreign policy often serves to confirm our most deeply held views about ourselves and others.

The Clinton administration now acknowledges that the spying suspect at Los Alamos, N.M., transferred sensitive nuclear programs to an unclassified computer system open to unauthorized individuals. The pundits warn us that spies are once again aiding a foreign power. Security must be bolstered. We must redouble our commitment to high-tech weaponry, including even the dangerous and potentially destabilizing antimissile defense system.

Been there, done that. This story has an all too familiar ring. Julius Rosenberg’s betrayal purportedly was a key step in facilitating Soviet advancements in their nuclear program. Such narratives are so accepted a part of Washington culture that it is hard to challenge them.

Every major government — including ours — spies. Indeed, our Central Intelligence Agency budget, devoted almost entirely to spying, is larger than the total output of many foreign nations. And I have little doubt that an occasional bit of information passed on here or there does help foreign weapons makers.

Nonetheless, I question whether being first in the nuclear arms race is all it is cracked up to be. The United States has led every leg of that race, from the atom bomb to the hydrogen bomb and from intercontinental ballistic missiles to multiply targeted warheads capable of stunning accuracy. Though many attribute the collapse of the Soviet Union to the relentless pressure to keep up, our victory is a tad bit pyrrhic. A collapsing Russian economy is hardly able to keep track of where all its bombs are heading. Nuclear proliferation to states of dubious stability and for whom, as the Philadelphia Inquirer recently suggested, suitcases or Ryder trucks may be the preferred delivery mode, may be our greatest threat.

Just as basically, the security afforded by nuclear secrecy is overrated. Twenty years ago, a young investigative reporter for The Progressive Magazine, where I then worked, decided to explore nuclear secrecy. As an undergraduate physics major, Howard Morland had been fascinated by hydrogen bombs. His professors told him their exact specifications were classified in an effort to limit hydrogen weaponry to the five current members of the club. Morland visited weapons labs in the United States and talked with government researchers. Using information provided in casual conversation and from books on public shelves, he wrote “The H Bomb Secret: How We Got It and Why We’re Telling it” for the March 1979 issue of The Progressive.

Tipped off by one of the scientists whom Morland had interviewed, the Carter administration took the highly unusual step of seeking prior restraint against publication of the article. A federal district judge, suggesting publicly that the article might “give Idi Amin the H bomb,” granted the government’s request.

As the case was winding its way through the federal courts, Morland remarked to the media that any enterprising reporter with adequate training could — even in a heightened state of security –write an article similar to his. An enterprising California publication accepted the challenge and published a comparable piece within a matter of months. After futile efforts to prove The Progressive had leaked its data, the Justice Department dropped the case and allowed publication of The Progressive’s article.

In the course of deposing leading government nuclear scientists, our attorneys learned that H bomb detonation techniques even more sophisticated than those Morland had discussed were routine topics of cocktail party conversation during international gatherings of nuclear scientists.

Science and technology have a momentum of their own little stalled by the most draconian security regimes. Edward Teller, certainly no bleeding heart liberal, has argued that by limiting communication among our own scientists, U.S. security clearance systems may actually disadvantage our own efforts. Foreign scientists talk freely, while Americans look over their shoulders.

The notion that we are threatened by foreigners eager to steel nuclear secrets serves two distinctly American perspectives. It encourages a view of other societies as uniquely evil. It also supports the notion that specialized technical advances are the key to survival in this jungle. Sustaining a certain kind of military and political culture may be the most lasting contribution — and the greatest threat — posed by these spy stories.

John Buell is a political economist who lives in Southwest Harbor. Readers wishing to contact him may e-mail comments to jbuell@acadia.net.