Analysis| Why technology has no final vote in the US/Israel war against Iran

Muhammad Alaraby , Monday 16 Mar 2026

At first glance, traditional metrics of military power suggest that an armed conflict between the US-Israeli alliance and Iran is decided before the first shot is fired—the United States possesses an overwhelming technological superiority that Iran cannot hope to match in any conventional sense.

Vista
File Photo: Air Force Secretary Frank Kendall sits in the front cockpit of an X-62A VISTA aircraft at Edwards Air Force Base, Calif., on Thursday, May 2, 2024. AP

 

 Yet the outcome of this conflict will not be determined by technological prowess; rather, it will be dictated by geography, demography, and political resolve—factors no weapon system can bypass. In short, technology will have no vote in this war.

Before the outbreak of hostilities on February 28, the Trump administration leveraged 19th-century gunboat diplomacy—surrounding Iran with cutting-edge capabilities intended to force total surrender through "maximum pressure."

Yet despite a coordinated opening salvo that successfully assassinated the Iranian Supreme Leader and several top commanders, the anticipated regime collapse never materialized. As the war rages on, it has become clear that no coherent strategy underpins this fight, proving that technology cannot compensate for the absence of a strategic end-state—and that a nation wielding low-cost technologies, and the resourceful manipulation of terrain, can invert technological superiority into a strategic liability. That is the phenomenon defined by the "Cost Trap."

The Cost Exchange 
 

Evidence has mounted that Iran has long prepared for this conflict following the brief 12-day war with Israel and the Trump administration last summer. As the weaker party in terms of conventional military power, Iran based its strategy on raising costs for its stronger adversaries—the US and Israel. At its core, the approach involves absorbing attacks to harden the regime’s internal structure while simultaneously destabilizing the regional system and global energy markets—effectively locking the Strait of Hormuz and broadening the battlefield across the Gulf.

Although the US and Israel achieved aerial superiority in the first round of the battle, controlling the skies over Iran, they failed to destroy all launch platforms for Iranian ballistic missiles and Shahed drones. That persistence has given Iran the opening to continue "raising the costs" for the attackers. Iranian military planners, primarily within the ranks of the IRGC, have deployed battle-tested Shahed-136 drones against Israeli, US, and GCC targets.

Defending against these systems places the US and its allies on the "wrong side of the cost curve". Advanced Patriot interceptors cost approximately $4 million per shot, whereas the Shahed-136 costs between $20,000 and $50,000. Even lower-cost interceptors, such as the Coyote ($125,000 per shot), remain significantly more expensive than the drones they are intended to target. 

According to Michael Horowitz of the US Council on Foreign Relations, this dynamic—first imposed by Ukraine and now by Iran—may herald a new era of "precise mass," where the high-volume use of low-cost, autonomous systems—rather than "exquisite" high-tech platforms—dictates the strategic tempo. In that framework, the value of a weapons system is determined not by its technological sophistication or implied cost, but by its capacity to achieve tactical gains.

Iran has made a deliberate choice to deny the US any quick victory, drawing the war's financial burdens and domestic political pressures into the battlefield equation. According to the CSIS estimates, the first 100 hours of the war cost the U.S. $3.7 billion, with each subsequent day running approximately $850 million—a figure that could strain the Pentagon’s budget and force the administration to seek additional funds from Congress. The longer the war drags on without a strategy, the more politically untenable its financing becomes.

Technological Liability 
 

One of the enduring lessons of the relationship between technology and the conduct of war is that high-tech weaponry can create a massive shock wave at the onset of a conflict, yet it is rarely decisive in bringing the fighting to a conclusion—barring the deployment of nuclear weapons. The use of advanced capabilities in Operation "Epic Fury" is no exception to this rule. More importantly, these high-tech assets can actually transform into strategic liabilities.

Nowhere is that liability more starkly illustrated than in the current interceptor stockpile crisis. As of 3 March 2026, reports indicate that the US has already expended nearly 14 percent of its global THAAD stockpile in just the opening days of the conflict. While Iran can manufacture a Shahed drone in a matter of days for approximately $20,000, a single Patriot or THAAD interceptor requires years to produce and can cost up to $15 million.

Lawmakers are already warning that burning through high-tech munitions in the Gulf is "draining the magazine" for a potential conflict with China over Taiwan—effectively turning the Gulf war into a "disastrous strategic detour". A depleted arsenal may, in turn, grant US adversaries in East Asia, specifically China and North Korea, strategic leverage over American allies.

Ultimately, this suggests that an overreliance on high-cost, high-tech capabilities can produce counter-strategic effects, even if they ensure tactical advantages on the battlefield. Counter-strategic consequences of this kind grow even more pronounced when a conflict shifts into a war of attrition—a scenario where technology has historically failed to be the decisive factor.

Tech-Negating Geography
 

Iran’s geography serves as a formidable "passive defense" system—a "castle of mountains," as it is often described. A reality of that kind can neutralize many of the advantages provided by sophisticated weaponry. Iran has exploited its rugged topography, particularly the Zagros and Alborz Mountain ranges, to construct a vast network of hardened underground facilities. Known as "missile cities," these subterranean networks are specifically designed to negate the dominance of precision-guided munitions. While the GBU-57 Bunker Buster bomb can strike these targets, no munition can clear entire tunnel networks or occupy the mountain ranges themselves.

Furthermore, Iran’s jagged peaks and deep valleys provide natural clutter to mask the approach of low-cost drones and missiles. A geographic shield of that depth allows low-cost systems to "underfly" the early-warning horizons of billion-dollar radar arrays, such as the AN/FPS-132 or AN/TPY-2.

The sheer size of the Iranian Plateau provides the country with immense strategic depth, allowing its forces to deploy mobile launchers and military facilities across a vast area. Even a coordinated high-tech "blitzkrieg" would likely fail to paralyze a military structure based on decentralized command and control. Should the US opt for ground operations, this strategic depth could deny invading troops any remaining technological privilege.

Historically, while Iranian empires have suffered heavy military defeats—at the hands of the Ottomans, Russians, and British since the 16th century—the country was never completely dominated or occupied by a single power, owing precisely to its geography. Unlike the flat topography of Iraq, reaching Tehran by invading from the south or east would be a near impossibility for US or Israeli forces. An expedition of that kind would likely prove more catastrophic than Napoleon’s 1812 invasion of Russia.

In Iran’s grand strategy against the West since 1979, the Strait of Hormuz has long been viewed as a primary "trump card"—a source of geographic leverage used to exert economic and strategic pressure. A narrow maritime chokepoint, it grants Iran a form of "economic deterrence" that no naval fleet can simply neutralize. Despite a high-tech naval presence in the region, the credible threat of closing the Strait—which carries 20 percent of the world’s oil—creates a global economic "veto" that far outweighs the tactical success of any high-tech strike.

The proximity of the coastline allows Iran to utilize short-range, solid-fueled missiles with rapid launch cycles, dramatically compressing the reaction time available for high-tech defense systems. Although effectively closing the Strait may succeed in raising the costs for the US and its allies, it remains a high-risk gamble that could backfire on Iran’s standing in the region and the world.

High-Tech Vs. Political Resolve
 

One of the primary purposes of high-tech weaponry is to create a psychological impact on an adversary—often termed "shock and awe"—to undermine morale and force a reconsideration of strategic calculations. In this raging war, however, US-Israeli high-tech systems have fallen short of changing the Iranian regime's trajectory, even after the heavy losses inflicted during the opening round.

Furthermore, the new Iranian leadership has realized that this battle is fundamentally political and existential. They believe the outcome will be determined by showing the resolve necessary to prevent the US and Israel from reaching their objectives. That calculus adheres to the conventional wisdom of asymmetric warfare: the strong are defeated when they fail to achieve their goals, while the weak win simply by surviving. Consequently, the leadership remains adamant; they will not back down on negotiations or end the war unless the attacks themselves cease.

It appears the Iranian regime has chosen to transform the conflict into a war of attrition to deny the US and Israel the advantages of their superior military and technological prowess. A strategy of attrition draws its enduring power from geography and the mounting political and economic costs of prolonged war. While this strategy may be solid, it is not without high risks, including increased suffering for the Iranian people, the attraction of more regional enemies, and heightened hostilities with immediate neighbours.

Nevertheless, what the situation ultimately proves is that the final results of the war will not be determined by technology, but by the enduring facts technology cannot defy: geography and politics. Ultimately, it proves that war remains, eternally, a contest of wills.

*The writer is the head of Strategic Foresight Program at FARAS.

Short link: