When Stability Becomes the Goal
President Trump says an agreement with Iran is imminent. Tehran appears less certain. Whether a deal is signed tomorrow, next week, or next month may ultimately prove less important than the assumptions driving the negotiations themselves.
Diplomacy is often evaluated by what it prevents. A ceasefire prevents violence. An agreement prevents escalation. A negotiation prevents war. These are worthwhile goals. The problem arises when stability itself becomes the primary objective. Once stability becomes the goal, preserving it can begin to outweigh confronting the forces that undermine it.
As a psychotherapist, I spent decades watching troubled relationships fall into this pattern. One partner creates recurring crises while the other becomes increasingly focused on restoring calm. Over time, maintaining the relationship begins to take precedence over addressing the behavior that repeatedly threatens it. Eventually the discussion is no longer about the underlying problem. It becomes about preventing the next argument. In such situations, the balance of power gradually shifts toward the person creating the instability. International politics can function similarly.
Much of the current discussion surrounding a potential US-Iran agreement focuses on compliance. Will Iran honor its commitments? Will restrictions be enforced? Will the agreement survive domestic political opposition? These are reasonable questions. They may not be the most important ones.
A different question deserves attention: What incentives does the agreement create?
The conventional assumption is that peace reduces leverage. Once tensions ease, coercion becomes more difficult. In some situations, however, the opposite occurs. The side most capable of disrupting stability gains influence precisely because stability has become so valuable.
The Strait of Hormuz illustrates the point. Tehran may have transformed Hormuz from a recurring threat into a demonstrated source of leverage. Today the discussion increasingly revolves around preserving access, maintaining calm, and preventing renewed confrontation. The distinction matters. A threat seeks to compel behavior through fear. Leverage shapes behavior because others wish to avoid the consequences of losing stability.
The same dynamic may emerge elsewhere. Israel is not a party to any understanding negotiated between Washington and Tehran, yet it remains vulnerable to continued attacks from Hezbollah and other Iranian proxies. Any future Israeli response to such aggression could be portrayed as jeopardizing a broader diplomatic achievement. That possibility alone alters the strategic calculus.
Political leaders face their own incentives. American presidents prefer diplomatic successes to open-ended conflicts. Israeli prime ministers often face decisions that large portions of the public view through an existential lens. Neither reality is surprising. Politics rewards visible achievements. Agreements are visible. The long-term consequences of agreements often are not.
The danger is not necessarily that Iran will immediately violate a future understanding. The greater danger may be that the agreement creates a framework in which recurring crises become opportunities for additional influence. A threat emerges. Pressure builds. Diplomacy intervenes. Concessions follow. Tensions subside. The cycle repeats. Each individual crisis appears manageable. The cumulative effect may be something else entirely.
Iran has spent decades demonstrating a willingness to think in long time horizons. Western democracies often operate on election cycles. Those are not equivalent. A tactical setback can be absorbed. A strategic position can be improved incrementally.
Which is why the most important question may not be whether a deal is signed. It may be whether preserving any deal eventually becomes more important than confronting the behavior that made the deal necessary in the first place.
