Do the Dishes: Game Theory and the Art of Cooperation
When the game repeats,
kindness becomes strategy.
Retaliation teaches,
forgiveness wins.
The Kitchen as a Mirror
You’re 23, sharing a modest apartment with a roommate. You split chores, agree on fairness, and set up a dish schedule.
It works—until it doesn’t.
One day the dishes pile up. You clean them. Then again. The balance shifts.
Now you’re wondering: if you stop doing them, the mess grows.
If you keep doing them, you become the sucker.
Welcome to the Prisoner’s Dilemma, where cooperation should win—but selfishness tempts both sides to defect.
Life as a Game of Choices
Game theory is the study of decision-making when outcomes depend on others’ choices.
Every negotiation, every trade, every relationship follows this same invisible math.
A “game” here isn’t about fun—it’s about strategy.
Every interaction is a choice to cooperate or compete.
From roommates to nations, the same rules apply.
Cooperative vs. Competitive Worlds
There are two kinds of games: cooperative and non-cooperative.
In cooperative games—like business partnerships or friendships—players share goals and resources.
Fairness matters.
But in non-cooperative games, most of life happens.
Here, players act for themselves. Think of the show Golden Balls: two people can “split” or “steal.”
If both split, they share the money.
If one steals, they get everything.
If both steal, both lose.
The rational move? Always steal.
Because mathematically, it protects you no matter what the other person does.
Cold, but logical.
Reality Isn’t a Game Show
In real life, we play long games.
People remember. Relationships linger. Reputations matter.
You’ll meet the same people again—in new forms, new deals, new moments.
That’s where things change.
The short-term logic of winning at all costs breaks down.
Survival depends on something else: trust.
The Experiment That Changed Everything
In 1980, political scientist Robert Axelrod ran a famous experiment.
He invited strategists worldwide to submit computer programs that would compete in an iterated Prisoner’s Dilemma tournament.
Each program had one choice per round: cooperate or defect.
Points rewarded mutual cooperation and punished betrayal.
Over hundreds of rounds, one strategy consistently won: Tit for Tat.
Why “Tit for Tat” Wins
It’s beautifully simple:
Start by cooperating.
Copy the other player’s last move.
Forgive after one defection.
Repeat.
It’s kind, clear, and fair.
Nice enough to build trust, strong enough to punish betrayal, forgiving enough to keep peace.
Axelrod found that this “naive” approach beat out every complex, cunning strategy.
It didn’t win every round, it just won more over time.
Because cooperation compounds.
Forgiveness as Strength
The lesson is counterintuitive.
In the long game of life, being kind first isn’t weakness—it’s leverage.
Forgiveness isn’t submission—it’s strategy.
Lead with openness, retaliate only when needed, then move on.
Don’t hold grudges. Don’t scheme.
Play clean and keep playing.
When to Be Nice, When to Be Sharp
Of course, cooperation isn’t unconditional.
Letting others exploit you isn’t noble, it’s self-destruction.
But retaliation should be measured, proportional, and clear, not emotional or vengeful.
“An eye for an eye,” in this sense, isn’t cruelty. It’s equilibrium.
Playing Life Like a Long Game
Game theory teaches something simple but deep:
Not every game is about winning.
Sometimes, the most effective strategy isn’t domination but durability.
Over time, the players who can forgive, cooperate, and start fresh, again and again, end up ahead.
They build alliances, trust, and compound results.
So when your turn comes, and the sink’s full again,
Do the dishes.
But remember why you’re doing them.
Because cooperation isn’t just morality, it’s math.
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