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Madman theory: Playing crazy doesn’t work — in diplomacy or in love

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by Liberty Vittert, opinion contributor - 04/10/26 7:00 AM ET

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by Liberty Vittert, opinion contributor - 04/10/26 7:00 AM ET

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AP Photo/Wilfredo Lee, File

President Richard Nixon coined the term in the summer of 1968, reportedly whispering it to his chief of staff like a trade secret: “I call it the Madman Theory, Bob.”

Madman theory is the idea that you convince your enemies that you are unhinged enough to push the nuclear button, so that they blink first. It’s sort of like a souped-up, high-stakes version of the game of chicken.

Over 50 years later, President Trump has fully leaned into this strategy on the world stage with a fervor and audacity that would make Nixon blush. I’m all for it if it works, but the real question is, does it?

The answer seems to be no. Both political scientists and relationship therapists agree that performed and manufactured chaos almost never works as a power move — not between nations and not between people.

The logic of playing crazy is highly seductive in both arenas. In geopolitics, a foreign adversary who cannot predict your moves cannot easily plan against you. And we have all experienced this on a personal level on one side or the other. In romance, this exact same instinct rears its seductive head as the “hot and cold” play — pull back, create uncertainty, keep them guessing, don’t let them know how you really feel.

In both situations, the underlying idea is identical: Unpredictability creates leverage. If the other party is anxious enough about losing you or provoking you, then you retain all the power.

The record on the geopolitical version is a damning failure on all fronts. I might be a little biased, as I grew up with my father calling Nixon a “shmuck,” but facts are facts. Nixon’s October 1969 deployment of placing U.S. nuclear forces on a secret global alert was intended to convince the Soviets that he was unstable enough to escalate the Vietnam War. The war continued for four years after he did it — so it seems that it didn’t work.

Over and over again we see prominent “madmen” at work. Think Nikita Krushchev, Saddam Hussein, Moammar Gadhafi. Their erratic behavior mostly failed to produce diplomatic or military victories. Krushchev was removed from power in a bloodless coup; the latter two arguably paid for this mistake with their lives.

So let’s take a look at Trump’s moves in his second term.

His sweeping tariffs yielded concessions from many countries, but they failed to move China and put an enormous financial burden on the American public.

Trump’s threats to seize Greenland backfired on him, to the point that he had to back away from them.

In Iran, he went from threatening total civilizational annihilation to a ceasefire within a single day.

In all three cases, and in others, unpredictability did not translate into durable leverage — rather, it merely generated uncertainty about limits.

Relationship psychology tells a strikingly parallel story. The fancy term for madman theory when it comes to love is “intermittent reinforcements,” comprising a pattern of unpredictable hot-cold or warm-withdrawal. This type of chaos prompts the brain’s dopamine system to respond more intensely to unpredictable rewards, which is why a relationship featuring this malady can almost feel addictive.

Unfortunately, addictive feelings are not necessarily effective long-term. Attachment research show us that intermittent reinforcement actually produces anxious bonding. The other person is not drawn closer out of desire, but is destabilized into hypervigilance. Basically, your partner is not won over, but simply worn down over time.

This is the true structural flaw in the madman theory. To work, it needs to be exceptional. Nixon appeared dangerous because usually the American system was controlled, meaning that his behavior stood out against the backdrop of American directness.

The same is true in relationships. A partner who occasionally and genuinely surprises is interesting, but not if his or her entire identity is performed and manufactured chaos. Such partners merely become predictable in their unpredictability. The a romantic partner realizes that the coldness is calculated, the game is up. The spell breaks, and often so does the relationship.

In the long run, chaos erodes trust, arguably the only true currency that actually purchases lasting influence. Nations that can’t trust American commitment look elsewhere. Europe, Canada and India have all been reportedly eyeing China as a possible alternative to an increasingly unreliable America. This is exactly what happens in romantic r