Poker and Cooperation
I play Texas Hold 'em in a casino for the first time in a very long time. It was very surreal being surrounded by a bunch of strangers, who are all being very polite to one another but battling for chips, and all the while I'm trying to use everything that I had read in poker books in the heat of the moment. I can see why people develop a habit of playing poker.
There's a reason that I don't much like the game of poker, and that's because it is, in reality, a zero-sum game. That is, in order for me to win, you (or someone else) has to lose. It's not possible for everyone to emerge on top, and so it's the kind of game where people are in constant conflict with one another. These are common, and I like these kinds of game infinitely better than those based purely on chance. (See also: Chutes and Ladders, or speculation in the stock market)
One way to determine the type of person you are is to reflect on the extent to which you see the world as a zero-sum game. How about your profession? If you're in retail sales in a department store, it's easy to see the other sales associates on your floor as being in direct competition with you. There are a limited number of customers that walk in and buy something every day, and the more of those sales you get, the better off you are when compared to your colleagues. So it becomes a competition.
Or: could you look at the sales process as building brand? Sure, you don't give sales to your co-workers to even things out just because you're a nice person. But if you stop worrying about how much better your co-workers are doing than you and instead focus on serving the customer to the best of your ability, then the customer is more likely to be happy and come back. And they're more likely to recommend the store to their friends. And in the end, wouldn't that lead to more sales for your entire department as a whole? With a larger pie, doesn't that mean everyone gets a bigger slice, and that there are more slices for the taking?
I'm not saying that's the way things are. I'm merely asking you to ask yourself what you think. How do you see the world?
In the end, though, you could argue that people who are losing at poker aren't really losing. I went into the game I mentioned earlier with $100 in chips, and three hours later, after lots of ups and downs, I walked away with $96. A nominal loss, but I was willing to have lost a little more, and it was money I invested in spending an afternoon. It ended up being cheaper than a movie and more engaging.
I guess even when we're at each other's throats, we're learning. And any game of skill beats a game of pure chance.
There's a reason that I don't much like the game of poker, and that's because it is, in reality, a zero-sum game. That is, in order for me to win, you (or someone else) has to lose. It's not possible for everyone to emerge on top, and so it's the kind of game where people are in constant conflict with one another. These are common, and I like these kinds of game infinitely better than those based purely on chance. (See also: Chutes and Ladders, or speculation in the stock market)
One way to determine the type of person you are is to reflect on the extent to which you see the world as a zero-sum game. How about your profession? If you're in retail sales in a department store, it's easy to see the other sales associates on your floor as being in direct competition with you. There are a limited number of customers that walk in and buy something every day, and the more of those sales you get, the better off you are when compared to your colleagues. So it becomes a competition.
Or: could you look at the sales process as building brand? Sure, you don't give sales to your co-workers to even things out just because you're a nice person. But if you stop worrying about how much better your co-workers are doing than you and instead focus on serving the customer to the best of your ability, then the customer is more likely to be happy and come back. And they're more likely to recommend the store to their friends. And in the end, wouldn't that lead to more sales for your entire department as a whole? With a larger pie, doesn't that mean everyone gets a bigger slice, and that there are more slices for the taking?
I'm not saying that's the way things are. I'm merely asking you to ask yourself what you think. How do you see the world?
In the end, though, you could argue that people who are losing at poker aren't really losing. I went into the game I mentioned earlier with $100 in chips, and three hours later, after lots of ups and downs, I walked away with $96. A nominal loss, but I was willing to have lost a little more, and it was money I invested in spending an afternoon. It ended up being cheaper than a movie and more engaging.
I guess even when we're at each other's throats, we're learning. And any game of skill beats a game of pure chance.