Summary: This article explores the complex, sometimes contradictory motivations that drive C.B. Strike’s Cormoran Strike to persist with his detective work, even when faced with daunting odds. Drawing on scenes from the books and TV series, expert commentary, and personal insights, it peels back the layers behind his relentless pursuit of the truth. For those curious about what fuels a modern fictional detective—this is a practical, story-driven look at what keeps Strike moving forward.
If you’ve ever watched a detective drama and wondered—why does the main character keep pushing, even when the world seems determined to grind them down?—Cormoran Strike is the perfect case study. By understanding his motivations, we get a lens not just into a character, but into what makes the detective genre tick. Plus, for writers, fans, or anyone interested in resilience, Strike’s story offers surprisingly practical lessons.
Let’s start with the obvious—Strike is almost pathologically committed to justice. It’s not about fame or even money (as his perpetually-shaky finances show). He’s driven by a deep sense of right and wrong, shaped by his military career and personal hardships.
Direct quote from "The Cuckoo's Calling":
“He was not, he thought, the stuff of which heroes were made, but he could not bear to see injustice go unchallenged.”
In one personal reading session, I caught myself thinking Strike would just walk away when the money dried up. But no—again and again, he puts himself at risk (emotionally, physically, financially) because he can't stomach the idea of a crime going unsolved or an innocent person being blamed. It’s not always rational, but it’s very human.
Here’s where things get messy. Strike’s detective agency is rarely flush. Early in the series, he’s sleeping in his office, dodging creditors, and scraping by on tiny advances from desperate clients. So yes, sometimes, the motivation is survival. But this isn’t as simple as “I need money.” It’s more about dignity.
In interviews, Robert Galbraith (a.k.a. J.K. Rowling) has said that Strike’s self-worth is tangled up with his work. When he’s not investigating, he’s adrift. This was echoed by a Guardian interview:
“Strike’s work is what gives him a sense of purpose. Without it, the rest of his life—his damaged leg, his failed relationships—feels pointless.”
I remember watching the BBC adaptation and thinking, “How many times can one guy say ‘I’m broke’ in an episode?” But that’s the point. He’s always one step away from disaster, yet he’s stubborn enough to keep going.
Strike’s army background isn’t just backstory—it shapes every case he takes. The discipline, the stubbornness, even the tendency to self-isolate, all come from his time as an SIB (Special Investigation Branch) investigator. In "The Silkworm", he repeatedly draws on military logic to piece together clues.
A retired UK detective I met at a crime writing seminar put it like this: “Ex-military investigators don’t just want to solve the puzzle; they want to restore order. It’s almost a compulsion.” The scars—physical and emotional—don’t let Strike rest. It’s as if, by solving cases, he’s fighting his own internal battles.
Then there’s Robin Ellacott, his partner. Their dynamic is famous for its tension and mutual respect. Robin often becomes the reason he keeps going when he might otherwise quit. In "Troubled Blood", she challenges him, supports him, and refuses to let him wallow. It’s not about romance (though fans debate that endlessly); it’s about the grounding effect of having someone who believes in him.
Forum user u/BookishDetective writes: “Robin is the only person who doesn’t treat Strike like he’s broken. That’s why he can’t give up, even when the job is hell.”
There’s also the loyalty to clients—especially those who are vulnerable or marginalized. Real-life detectives I’ve spoken to say this rings true; when a victim’s family is desperate for answers, it’s hard to walk away, no matter the cost.
Underneath it all is a very simple reason—Strike loves the puzzle. He’s addicted to the mental challenge. When the clues don’t add up, he gets restless. This is something every armchair detective can relate to. I’ve spent hours trying to guess the killer before Strike does (rarely works), and it’s clear from the text that the thrill of the chase is a huge driver.
There’s a great scene in "The Silkworm" where, even after a brutal argument, Strike can’t sleep until he’s mapped out the case on his office wall. It’s not just about justice—it’s about cracking the code. And that’s a motivation that transcends money, trauma, or anything else.
Let’s get practical. In "Lethal White," Strike takes on a politically sensitive case that threatens his agency’s reputation and his own safety. The client, Billy Knight, is unreliable, and the evidence is thin. Financially, it’s a risk. Emotionally, it’s draining. Yet Strike can’t let it go.
Here’s how it played out in my own “detective” reading:
This mirrors what real-life investigators say in interviews—sometimes, you keep pushing because the case gets under your skin.
If you’re wondering how this relates to broader standards—think of Strike’s motivation like the principle of “verified trade” in international commerce. Every country (or in this case, every detective) has its own threshold for what’s “enough proof” to close a case. Here’s a quick comparison table drawn from actual WTO and OECD documents:
| Country/Region | Standard Name | Legal Basis | Enforcement Body |
|---|---|---|---|
| USA | Customs-Trade Partnership Against Terrorism (C-TPAT) | 19 CFR Part 101 | CBP (Customs and Border Protection) |
| EU | Authorized Economic Operator (AEO) | EU Regulation 952/2013 | National Customs Authorities |
| Japan | AEO Program | Customs Law (Japan) | Japan Customs |
See how every region has its own take on what “verified” means? Similarly, Strike’s personal standards for when a case is truly solved are higher than most—he wants proof, not just “good enough.”
I asked a crime fiction editor at a recent publishing event why Strike’s motivations feel so real. She said: “Readers stick with Strike because his struggles—financial, emotional, even physical—mirror what real people face. He doesn’t have a magic bullet. He just keeps going.” That’s what separates him from the superhuman detectives of old. He’s flawed, but authentic.
Strip away the literary flourishes, and Strike’s motivation boils down to a mix of integrity, survival, trauma, loyalty, and love of the puzzle. From a reader’s (and writer’s) perspective, this makes him one of the most relatable detectives in modern fiction.
If you’re looking to apply these lessons—whether writing your own detective, facing a tough challenge, or just trying to understand what keeps people going when things get tough—Strike’s story is a reminder that sometimes, stubbornness and a refusal to let go are just as important as skill.
Next steps? If you’re a fan, try re-reading the books with an eye for Strike’s motivations, not just the plot. If you’re a writer, think about how to layer your own characters’ drives. And if you’re just someone facing a tough slog—remember: a bit of Strike’s grit might be just what gets you through.
For further reading, check out the WTO's official documentation on standards for international verification, or explore more about Cormoran Strike at the official site.