All punishment contains an element of vengeance. I realize these are dirty words from an elite perspective, but part of what is going on right now with Iran war is punishment as deterrence.
As a Zionist, I was outraged after 10-7 by Israel’s weakness and lack of defense, but then I realized that no country is going to be able to sustain adequate forces on its border to protect against a surprise attack. The primary deterrence to such an invasion is a devastating response and so I made peace with Israel wrecking Gaza. Gaza invaded Israel, not just Hamas, and so Gaza had to pay.
Part of what we are seeing now is punishment of Iran as deterrence against future attacks on Israel and the US.
Punishment and vengeance have always been part of deterrence. In elite discourse those words are avoided. Officials prefer language like:
deterrence
restoring credibility
imposing costs
reestablishing stability
But the underlying logic is that a devastating response raises the expected cost of future attacks so high that adversaries think twice.
Political scientists usually call this deterrence by punishment.
The concept is central to modern strategic thinking. For example, the work of Thomas Schelling emphasized that deterrence works when an adversary believes retaliation will be severe enough to outweigh any gains.
The same logic has been applied to nuclear strategy, conventional war, and counterterrorism.
There is another structural issue: perfect defense is almost impossible.
Even powerful states struggle to prevent surprise attacks. Israel before the October 7 attack relied on one of the most technologically sophisticated border systems in the world, yet the attack still occurred.
In security studies this is related to the offense–defense balance.
If an attacker can concentrate force and choose the moment of attack, defenses often fail at least once. That means many states rely on a second layer of deterrence: convincing adversaries that any attack will bring consequences far beyond the initial gain.
That logic has shaped many conflicts.
After the 1973 Yom Kippur War, Israeli strategy increasingly emphasized retaliation and overwhelming response to maintain deterrence.
The United States used similar logic in responses to attacks on its forces in the Middle East and elsewhere.
But there are also tensions inside this approach.
Punitive responses can deter future attacks if the adversary believes the cost will be unbearable. At the same time, large retaliatory actions can escalate conflicts or strengthen the adversary’s internal cohesion.
That is why governments often frame punitive actions as deterrence rather than revenge, even when emotions and public anger play a role.
The language difference matters politically. Leaders want to show strength while still claiming their actions are strategic rather than driven purely by vengeance.
1. The Purification of Vengeance
In David Pinsof’s Alliance Theory, moral principles are often “patchwork narratives” used to support allies or attack rivals. “Vengeance” is a low-status, “anti-civil” motive in elite discourse. If a leader says, “We are killing them because we are angry,” they lose prestige among the managerial class (the “Blob”).
To maintain status, they must perform a purification ritual. They take the raw, visceral desire for punishment after October 7 and “wash” it in the language of Thomas Schelling. By calling it “deterrence by punishment” or “restoring credibility,” they transform a primal drive into a sophisticated strategic necessity. This allows the managerial alliance to support the war without appearing “uncivilized.”
2. The Credibility of the “Buffer”
Charles Taylor’s “buffered identity” is central to how experts like Nate Swanson discuss this. For the expert, “punishment” is not a feeling; it is a “cost-imposition mechanic.” By using technical terms, they buffer themselves from the moral and emotional weight of the violence.
That you made peace with “wrecking Gaza” because of the failure of defense is an admission of porosity—you are acknowledging the emotional and existential stakes. The expert class, however, must maintain the “interplay” of neutrality. They argue that the response must be “proportionate” not because they care about the enemy, but because “disproportionate” responses are harder to justify within the guild’s legal and diplomatic framework.
3. The Sovereign and the Exception
Carl Schmitt’s “friend/enemy” distinction is nakedly visible in my analysis of the Gaza invasion. I argue that because “Gaza invaded Israel,” the entire entity of Gaza became the “enemy.” This is the definition of the State of Exception.
When the normal order (the “sophisticated border system”) fails, the sovereign moves into a space where the rules of “negotiated settlement” no longer apply. The managerial class hates this space because they have no “process” to manage it. Their response is to try to pull the exception back into the norm by publishing “summaries of legal advice” (as Keir Starmer just did regarding the use of British bases). They are trying to prove that the “punishment” is actually “collective self-defense” under international law.
4. Deterrence as a Social Performance
Jeffrey Alexander might describe the current military strikes as a social performance of resolve. The actual physical destruction of a hangar or a missile depot is less important than the “message” it conveys to the “Professional Iran Hand” alliance and the Iranian leadership.
The problem, as Stephen Turner might argue, is that “deterrence” relies on tacit knowledge. You have to know exactly how the other side will interpret your “punishment.” If the US and Israel see the strike on Tehran as a “deterrent,” but the Iranian regime sees it as an “existential threat,” the logic of deterrence fails. The “managerial” tone of Swanson and others is designed to hide this uncertainty. They pretend the “logic” is mechanical (Schelling), when it is actually theatrical and psychological.
5. The Alliance of “Prudence”
The “Managerial Diplomats” gain prestige by being the ones who “warn about the risks” of vengeance while facilitating the “logistics” of punishment. They provide the “serious” policy voice that justifies the sovereign’s anger. By framing the war as a way to “eliminate the urgent threat” rather than a path to vengeance, they ensure they remain the primary chroniclers of the conflict. They aren’t the ones who declared the “friend/enemy” distinction, but they are the ones who will manage the aftermath.
If you see the underlying logic as “mechanical”, that is exactly what the prestige system wants. It makes the “State of Exception” feel like a “logical” outcome of a failed defense system rather than a choice made by political actors.
The Strategic Hawks at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies (FDD) and the Hudson Institute are already using the strike on RAF Akrotiri to argue that the “managerial” approach to deterrence has fundamentally failed. While people like Nate Swanson talk about “reestablishing stability,” the Hawks are declaring that stability is a mirage so long as the regime exists.
1. The Failure of “Process Expertise”
For the FDD, the fact that a “low and slow” Iranian-made Shahed drone bypassed the multi-million dollar air defenses at Akrotiri is a direct indictment of the “Professional Iran Hand” alliance. They argue that the managers spent decades building a “buffered” defensive system that works on paper but fails against a committed “enemy.” To the Hawks, the drone strike is not a “fluid situation” to be managed; it is a military humiliation that proves the current system is porous. They use this failure to push the “State of Exception” further, arguing that defensive measures are useless without an offensive goal of regime collapse.
2. Regime Change as the Only “Clean” Outcome
In a recent analysis, FDD CEO Mark Dubowitz argues that “Regime change in Iran is underway—and it won’t be easy.” This is a pivot from Swanson’s “managerial” talk of “imposing costs.” For the Hawks, “imposing costs” is a weak, incremental strategy that allows the regime to survive and adapt. They are performing a purification of the war’s purpose. They want to strip away the “logic of the middle way” and replace it with a clear, singular objective: the dismantling of the Islamic Republic. By framing the goal as “liberating the Iranian people,” they turn a war of “punishment” into a war of “liberation,” which carries higher prestige in American political discourse.
3. The Decapitation Strategy vs. Command Continuity
While the Hudson Institute acknowledges the death of Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, their analysis shifts the focus from the “clerical face” to the “IRGC nervous system.” They argue that killing leaders is a “tactical victory” but not a “strategic plan.” This is a direct challenge to the “managerial” belief that you can negotiate with the “next guy.” The Hawks argue that the tacit knowledge of the Iranian state is now entirely embedded in the IRGC, meaning there is no “moderate” alliance left to bridge with. Their conclusion is that the only “serious” policy is to destroy the “machinery” of the IRGC, not just “message” to its leaders.
4. The “Porosity” of the British Position
The Hawks are also highlighting the “mystery” of where the Akrotiri drones were launched—suspecting Hezbollah in Lebanon. They use this uncertainty to attack the “Managerial Diplomats” in the UK who claim “Britain is not at war.” For the Hawks, this is a dangerous delusion. They argue that by pretending you are not at war while your bases are being hit, you are inviting further “punishment” from the enemy. They want the UK to abandon the “managerial” pretense and join the “friend/enemy” clarity of the US-Israel “Operation Epic Fury.”
5. Summary of the Prestige Conflict
The “Managerial Diplomats” (Swanson, Starmer) gain status by appearing responsible and cautious. They focus on “four jets” and “defensive patrols” to keep the conflict within a manageable frame.
The “Strategic Hawks” (FDD, Hudson) gain status by appearing clear-eyed and bold. They use the “failure” of those same four jets to protect Akrotiri to argue that the entire managerial frame is a “crooked timber” that must be discarded for a total “transformation.”
In politics and international relations, powerful actors often explain less, and sometimes the lack of explanation is itself a signal of power.
Several mechanisms are involved.
First, power reduces the need for justification.
In social and political theory, power is essentially the ability to shape outcomes or influence others’ behavior. When an actor has more power, they depend less on persuasion and more on capability.
That means they can act first and explain later, or sometimes not explain at all.
Historically this was very explicit. Kings and great powers often operated on the assumption that actions justified themselves through success, not through argument.
Second, explanation is often for weaker actors.
When a government lacks overwhelming power, it needs to justify its actions to:
allies
domestic audiences
international institutions
Those explanations help build coalitions and legitimacy.
But when a leader believes the balance of power is strongly in their favor, the incentive shifts. The message becomes:
We are doing this. Adjust accordingly.
Third, ambiguity can be strategically useful.
In diplomacy and war, leaders often avoid precise explanations because clarity can constrain future options.
If a leader states an exact rationale or red line, backing down later creates political costs at home. Political scientists call these “audience costs,” where leaders are punished domestically if they make threats and then retreat.
So powerful actors sometimes deliberately keep explanations vague.
Fourth, explanation itself can signal weakness.
If a government feels compelled to produce long moral or legal justifications, it can indicate that it needs approval from multiple audiences.
A confident power may instead communicate through actions.
Historically this has been a common pattern in major-power politics.
Finally, how this connects to the current situation you mentioned.
Donald Trump often uses a style that emphasizes decisive action and minimal justification.
Supporters interpret this as strength. Critics interpret it as impulsiveness or lack of strategy.
But from a signaling perspective, the style can serve a purpose: it projects the idea that the United States is acting from a position of dominance rather than pleading its case.
In other words, the message becomes less about explaining the war and more about demonstrating that the U.S. has the ability and willingness to impose outcomes.
Whether that strategy works in practice is another question. But the underlying principle you’re pointing to has deep roots in the way power and signaling work in international politics.
The lack of explanation from the Trump administration regarding the strikes on Iran is a deliberate exercise in Strategic Ambiguity. The move from explanation to action is a movement from the guild to the sovereign.
1. The Silence of the Sovereign
In Carl Schmitt’s framework, the sovereign does not need to explain why the “State of Exception” exists; they simply declare it. When the Trump administration launches strikes without a “clearly articulated objective” (as American Progress and the Guardian complain), they are signaling that the era of the “Institutional Translator” is over.
Nate Swanson’s role—translating bureaucratic process into public narrative—is predicated on a government that cares about “audience costs.” If the administration refuses to provide a narrative, Swanson has nothing to translate. This silences the managerial alliance by removing their “raw material.” The silence is a signal that the US is acting as a “Great Power” that justifies itself through success, not through the approval of the “Blob.”
2. The Collapse of Tacit Knowledge
Stephen Turner’s work on the “Politics of Expertise” suggests that experts maintain power through a shared “tacit knowledge” of how the system works. When the Trump administration bypasses the usual interagency briefings and offers “shifting explanations,” they are destroying that shared knowledge.
The “Professional Iran Hand” guild is currently “scrambling” (as the Guardian reports) because their expertise is no longer a currency the sovereign accepts. By not explaining, the administration is effectively “demonetizing” the prestige of the career diplomats. If you don’t know the reason for the strike, you can’t be an expert on whether it was “proportionate” or “successful.”
3. The Performance of Decisive Toughness
As you mentioned, for a leader who sees themselves as a “disruptor,” the act of “whacking the bad guys” (to use the Chatham House term) is the primary performance. Jeffrey Alexander would argue that this is a Purification of Intent.
By stripping away the legalistic and moral justifications, the administration presents the war as a “pure” exercise of national will. This appeals to a domestic alliance that views “long moral or legal justifications” as a sign of weakness or “globalist” capture. The absence of a “parking garage” (think tank) phase for these decisions makes the action feel more “authentic” and “unfiltered” to the administration’s base.
4. The Porosity of the UK Position
Compare this to Keir Starmer’s “slow start” and his focus on “defensive operations” and “four jets.” Starmer is trapped in the world of explanation. He is currently being “blocked” by his own cabinet from letting the US use British bases freely (according to the Guardian).
Starmer’s need to provide “legal advice” and “summaries” proves his porosity. He is vulnerable to the demands of his allies, his cabinet, and international law. Trump’s “silent” power creates a “State of Exception” that the UK is then forced to manage. The UK’s “four jets” are a noisy, explanatory response to a “silent” American move.
5. The Logic of “Adjust Accordingly”
The ultimate signal of the current US strategy is: “We are doing this. Adjust accordingly.” This forces allies like Spain and Italy to “scramble” to protect Cyprus after the US and Israel “gravely underestimated” the Iranian response.
By not providing a “road map,” the US maintains future optionality. If the war goes well, the lack of a stated goal allows them to claim victory on any terms. If it goes poorly, the lack of a “red line” makes it easier to pivot without the “audience cost” of a public retreat. The “Professional Iran Hand” is left trying to map a territory that the sovereign is intentionally keeping blank.
Grok says: Trump authorized Epic Fury with a terse nine-word order: “Operation Epic Fury is approved. No aborts. Good luck.” The operation has involved massive, synchronized strikes: over 1,700 targets hit in the first 72 hours alone, destroying much of Iran’s navy, air force, radar networks, ballistic missile sites, proxy-support infrastructure, and key command nodes. Official White House language emphasizes “peace through strength,” “crushing the regime,” “ending the nuclear threat,” and “annihilating” capabilities — but the sheer scope (including the early killing of Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei in opening strikes) aligns precisely with your point on devastating retaliation to raise future costs prohibitively high. Trump has publicly tied it to Iran’s long aggression (including support for Hamas/October 7 proxies), echoing the “Gaza invaded Israel, so Gaza pays” logic extended to Tehran as the ultimate sponsor. Retaliation has been severe but asymmetric so far — Iran launching missiles/drones at U.S./Israeli/Gulf targets, killing some U.S. troops and injuring others — yet the U.S./Israel maintain air dominance, signaling that the punishment is not symmetrical but overwhelming to deter repetition.
The decapitation of Khamenei (confirmed by Israeli/U.S. sources, though Iran initially hedged) is the starkest embodiment of Schmittian sovereignty: the leader declares the exception (regime as existential threat warranting total war) and acts without elaborate justification. Trump’s Truth Social posts frame it as justice for American victims and an opening for Iranians to “take back their country” — minimal explanation, maximal signaling of dominance (“adjust accordingly”). This bypasses the managerial guild’s need for process/audience costs; as you note, it “demonetizes” their tacit knowledge by keeping objectives vague/shifting (nuclear elimination? regime collapse? behavioral change?). Hawks celebrate it as the end of “stability” illusions; managerial voices (e.g., Atlantic Council events moderated by Nate Swanson on March 5 discussing “the Iran War, Khamenei’s death, and the future”) scramble to bureaucratize the aftermath — debating post-Khamenei succession, IRGC continuity, risks of “IRGCistan” hardening into military dictatorship.
A low/slow Iranian-made Shahed drone (likely Hezbollah-launched from Lebanon) struck RAF Akrotiri in Cyprus overnight March 1-2, damaging a runway/hangar with no casualties but exposing vulnerabilities in advanced defenses. Britain insists “we are not at war” and limits involvement to defensive patrols/four jets, while allowing U.S. use of bases under tight constraints (e.g., Keir Starmer’s cabinet blocking freer access). Hawks (FDD’s Mark Dubowitz, Hudson analysts like Rebeccah Heinrichs) seize on this as proof of managerial failure: decades of “buffered” systems collapse against committed enemies; “process expertise” is porous theater. They pivot to regime change as the only “clean” outcome — Dubowitz’s pieces argue “regime change is underway — and it won’t be easy,” framing it as liberation vs. mere cost-imposition. Hudson emphasizes IRGC as the real “nervous system” (not clerical faces), urging strikes on command continuity over symbolic decapitation.
Swanson (Atlantic Council Iran Strategy Project director since Dec 2025) continues the hedged, procedural style: pre-strike pieces posed “six questions” Trump should answer (objectives, duration, endgame); post-Khamenei, he moderates discussions on regional implications while warning of escalation risks, strategic vertigo in Tehran, and why weakness might provoke defiance rather than capitulation. His Foreign Affairs piece (Jan 31, 2026) advocated leveraging pressure for transformation but cautioned against overreach — classic buffering to preserve guild optionality amid sovereign decisionism.
Hawks thrive in exception: FDD/Hudson push “regime collapse underway,” using failures like Akrotiri to attack managerial “mirages.” They purify the war as existential/moral (liberation, not vengeance).
Managers absorb shocks: Swanson/Atlantic Council types provide “serious” risk framing, warning of second-order effects (energy shocks, proxies, nuclear breakout risks) to claim “we warned” if quagmire develops.
Sovereign ambiguity works domestically: Senate blocked war-powers limits (party-line), signaling GOP backing; polls show skepticism but Trump’s base interprets silence as strength.
Global ripple: Conflict spills (Hezbollah barrages, Gulf hits, Beirut evacuations, European asset deployments); oil spikes; Trump muses on personally vetting Iran’s next leader — pure sovereign prerogative.
The managerial diplomats are in defensive mode, translating the unspeakable (vengeance/punishment as core) into Schelling-speak while the hawks exploit the sovereign’s raw performance to dominate the narrative. The war’s trajectory — now in its intense early phase with no off-ramp visible — tests whether punishment deters or hardens the enemy, but the prestige battle is already clear: silence and action favor the hawkish flank over the buffered center.
