As snapback sanctions bite, Iranians describe rising prices, shrinking wages, and a loss of control over their lives—“working hard when nothing happens,” one says, “what else can you do?”
Even Before Snapback, Wage-Earners Were Struggling
The European troika—Britain, France, and Germany—has recently moved to activate the snapback mechanism, reinstating sanctions previously suspended under the 2015 nuclear deal between Iran and the world powers (the JCPOA). In this new phase, sanctions threaten to choke off Iran’s oil exports (even to China), allow other states to detain Iranian tankers and vessels, and authorize the seizure of Iranian assets.
What does this mean for daily life and household budgets—and can the state truly soften the blow?
Life for Iranian wage-earners was already harsher than ever before the snapback took effect. After the United States unilaterally exited the nuclear deal in 2018 (1397) and the rial collapsed, the cost of living surged. The government’s decision to roll back subsidies for importing essential goods further amplified the crisis, driving food prices sharply upward.
Many Iranians hoped that renewed negotiations and easing sanctions would at least halt runaway inflation and the free fall of the national currency—even if they couldn’t reverse it—especially as the government continued to resist wage hikes pegged to real inflation and living costs.
“This Wasn’t What We Deserved”
Across years of research, few studies—whatever their stance on sanctions—deny their economic, social, and psychological damage. The real debate lies in to what extent sanctions have shaped today’s crisis compared to the Islamic Republic’s own domestic policies.
In recent years, successive governments have blamed sanctions for budget deficits and medicine shortages, while refusing to acknowledge the widespread corruption that has plagued the allocation of subsidized foreign currency for importing drugs and essential goods. As before, officials have treated sanctions as an “opportunity” to push subsidy cuts under the banner of reform. This time, too, ministers strike the same note—calling the crisis a “chance” while claiming they will minimize its effects.
Iranians’ experiences, however, tell a different story. Elaheh, a sociology graduate surviving on part-time jobs, says:
“Life in Iran for me—and for my class—has always meant economic pressure and inequality. Now the snapback has made that pressure heavier and more punishing. The rise in the exchange rate and the fall of the rial have widened the gap between my fixed income and daily costs. Even buying basic items or paying rent has become a major worry. Our wages are fixed, but the costs climb every day.”
She adds that with prices rising constantly, meeting basic needs is harder than ever: “Even a moment’s rest, leisure, or personal growth has become practically impossible.”
Mahsa says the pressure is not just economic but existential:
“This situation has ramped up stress and eroded our sense of control. More than ever, I feel like a slave.”
She is not alone. Tiyam, who holds a master’s in architecture but earns from small home-based work, calls the psychological toll “very severe.”
“Prices go up every day. Life is harder because our pay doesn’t even last half the month.”
Psychologically, she adds, “we’re under immense pressure—people just throw up their hands and say, ‘to hell with it, let us die like this.’ No one even has the energy to protest anymore.”
Kiarash, who works in Tehran’s bazaar, says the effects of renewed sanctions are already visible “to the naked eye,” though the inflationary surge will likely appear “in a month or two.” He cites the dollar reaching 110,000 tomans, a 10% rise in car and motorcycle prices, and 20–30% jumps in mobile phone costs within days of the snapback announcement as early signs.
Bahar, despite being highly educated, she is خانه دار in Isfahan, agrees: “The psychological effect is real, but more importantly, every business and market sector has been hit.”
Psychological Shock and Material Losses
Some Iranians cope with anxiety by simply “not following the news.” Shirin, who works in Tehran and has frequently traveled to the UAE for her company, says she has stopped checking updates because they “make me feel worse and more hopeless.” She has witnessed the effects of renewed sanctions firsthand in her company’s dealings with Emirati partners:
“My fear and anxiety have increased. It’s not just me—many colleagues and friends feel the same. Whatever dreams and plans we had, the snapback has blown them into the air.”
Iran has lived under sanctions for years, and citizens have learned to “adapt” to restricted life. When sanctions ease, things improve slightly; when they tighten, life contracts again. Yet, contrary to official claims, this has not “vaccinated” people against their effects.
A study titled “Captivity of Agency: Narratives of Everyday Life Under Sanctions in Isfahan” (published in Mehr 1403 / October 2024) echoes many of these accounts gathered by Zamaneh Media. Interviewees said that external forces had intruded on their daily lives and decision-making. Common themes included inability to pursue plans, social breakdown, and decisions to emigrate.
Saeed, 27, a student-worker, said sanctions drained energy he would not otherwise have had to expend:
“I feel hopeless and want to emigrate.”
The study described such outcomes as “beyond individual control and agency.”
Mohammad, 25 and unemployed, described his life this way:
“If it weren’t for sanctions, the dollar–rial gap wouldn’t be this extreme. The market would be freer. You could work more easily, cover your daily costs, and study at the same time. That’s not possible for me. It’s not that I haven’t tried—I’ve worked hard. But when nothing changes, what are you supposed to do?”
School and University Under Strain
Periods of intensified sanctions, especially when the government has used the social “shock” to push through so-called economic surgery, have consistently driven up high-school dropout rates and expanded the population of student-workers. A Parliament Research Center report confirms the combined role of sanctions and economic pressure in forcing students out of the education system.
Official data on university dropout rates remain unpublished, but on 5 Mehr 1404 (September 26, 2025), the daily Shargh reported that in the new academic year, many universities have stopped providing dormitories, while student meal prices have risen sharply, forcing some students to withdraw due to unaffordable costs.
Rising costs at public universities reflect the ongoing commodification of education, justified by government budget shortfalls. In Esfand 1403 (February–March 2025), Science Minister Hossein Simayi-Sarraf announced a policy to reduce higher education’s dependence on state funding and urged universities to seek “alternative financing.”
By 1404–05 (2025–26), the ministry’s “solution” was to shift the burden onto students—raising dorm fees, meal prices, and tuition for evening and part-time programs, while in many cases denying dorm access altogether. According to Shargh, public-university meal prices rose by at least 40% this year, and roughly 30% of students will no longer have access to dorms.
Students shared examples that illustrate the crisis:
- Parnia: “In the second term of 1401 I paid 512,000 tomans for a dorm room; last year it was 990,000; this term, as a day-program student, it’s 1,130,000. Prices have doubled in two years.”
- Melika, at Alameh Tabataba’i University (evening program): “My first term I paid about 700,000 tomans for dorms; this year it’s nearly 1.7 million.”
- At Amirkabir University, students reported dorm fees rising from 1.5 million tomans in the second half of 1403 to 2.6 million this year.
At the start of the academic year, the Science Ministry’s Student Organization also raised the official meal-price tiers:
- Low-cost meals: 7,000 → 11,000 tomans
- Mid-tier: 12,000 → 17,000 tomans
- High-tier: 15,000 → 22,000 tomans
Breakfast prices for a term climbed from 750,000 tomans to 1.2 million—and up to 1.8 million at some universities.
These policies were adopted even before the snapback sanctions took effect. For students from working-class and low-income families, the cost of dorms and meals has become prohibitive—or impossible—to cover. Many, they say, have had no choice but to abandon their studies.
Runaway Inflation
The Statistical Center of Iran, one of the country’s two official sources for macroeconomic data, reported monthly inflation for August 2025 at 3.8%, and 5.2% for food and beverages. The 12-month average inflation stood at 37.5%, while year-on-year figures reached 45.3% depending on the measure used.
Food prices matter most: by the Center’s own estimates, food and beverages account for at least one-quarter of household spending. Over the 12 months leading up to August 2025, average food prices rose 57.9%, with annual inflation for this category at 39.7%.
In simple terms, the cost of the same basket of goods and services has risen 40–58% in just one year. Part of this surge stems from government budget policy: Tehran raised the preferential import exchange rate for essentials and medicines from 4,200 tomans to 28,500, a change that rippled across nearly all consumer prices.
The psychological and real impacts of renewed sanctions on inflation will become clearer in the months ahead. For now, the government and Central Bank are injecting hard currency to stabilize the rial—but such short-term measures cannot hold indefinitely. Officials have also announced plans to revise the budget, signaling cuts to subsidies for public goods and services and potential energy-price hikes next year—a powerful trigger for broader inflation.
If snapback pressure persists, the “psychological effect” will collide with hard arithmetic: thinner paychecks, costlier essentials, and ever fewer exits for families already living on the edge.
