The Wrong Question About Iran
During more than four decades as a psychotherapist, I learned to be cautious whenever someone asked, “Why does he keep doing that?” Because “why” questions often invite speculation. They can tempt us to project our own assumptions onto someone else’s behavior. A more useful question is frequently, “What maintains that behavior?” Rather than searching for hidden motives, it asks what repeatedly reinforces the pattern we observe.
That distinction may have something to teach us about the way the West approaches Iran.
Much of Western foreign policy assumes that states ultimately respond to the same broad incentives: Economic opportunity encourages cooperation; sanctions impose costs. Military force raises the price of ongoing aggression. These tools have often proven effective. But they also assume we have correctly identified what the other side values most.
When that assumption is wrong, even well-designed policies may produce disappointing results.
Israel’s experience with Hamas offers one example. For years, Israeli policymakers believed that the regular flow of money could reduce violence. That assumption—later remembered as the country’s conceptzia—collapsed on October 7.
The response then shifted dramatically. Israel imposed extraordinary military pressure in Gaza. Yet despite immense losses, Hamas has continued to pursue its stated objectives.
Iran presents a similar puzzle.
Sanctions have damaged its economy. Military operations have destroyed infrastructure and eliminated senior leaders. Yet Tehran continues investing heavily in missile development, nuclear capabilities, and the regional network of organizations it has supported for decades.
The obvious question is whether the problem lies not in the determination of Western policymakers, but in the assumptions underlying their strategy. If behavior persists despite repeated attempts to change it, what is actually sustaining it?
History reminds us that motivations can change. When Anwar Sadat chose peace with Israel in 1977, he did so in circumstances that were politically risky and far from inevitable. Egypt had suffered the humiliation of losing the Sinai. The country’s economy was strained. Maintaining a massive military carried enormous costs. American assistance offered new possibilities. However, those factors combined, peace ultimately became more rewarding for Egypt than continued confrontation.
That raises an important question for the present: what would have to become more rewarding for Iran than perpetual resistance?
Several possibilities are frequently discussed. Simple regime survival may itself constitute success. Regional dominance may remain a central objective. Religious obligation and revolutionary ideology may reinforce policies that outsiders regard as self-destructive.
Perhaps these explanations point toward a broader observation.
Iran and the movements aligned with it repeatedly describe themselves as an “Axis of Resistance.” The language is revealing. Resistance is presented not simply as a strategy but as an identity. If legitimacy is derived from continuing the struggle itself, then economic incentives and military punishment may prove less influential than Western policymakers expect.
That does not suggest abandoning deterrence or accepting aggression. Israel and its allies cannot simply stop resisting movements openly committed to their destruction. It does suggest, however, that strategy begins with correctly identifying what sustains the behavior one hopes to change.
Sadat’s achievement was not merely signing a peace treaty. He helped create conditions in which peace became more reinforcing than conflict. Perhaps that remains the more enduring lesson.
The challenge is not simply to devise a larger sanction or a more powerful military response. It is to understand whether there are circumstances in which leaders and societies become more invested in their own prosperity, dignity, and future than in the continuation of an endless struggle.
If that question seems difficult to answer, it may be because we have spent too much time asking the wrong one.
