CHAPTER 00 WINNING IN POKER AND BUSINESS The word "competition" evokes the image of move-by-move interaction between two or more players. This suggests what athletes call "mind games", or what mathematicians call "gaming" -the attempt to decipher by one player of the other's intentions, and then choose strategic moves to forestall the competitor's moves. Chess and two-handed poker are the classic models for this kind of gaming, and business is often assumed to follow this model. This image implies that the best player is the person who is best at gaming. This chapter suggests that gaming is not a good model even for poker when there are several people at the table. And a gaming mentality is even less appropriate for most business situations. The inter-personal gaming approach to competition distracts people from the other aspects of their pastimes or business which are the really important determinants of whether they do well or not. It also has the bad effect in business that when businesspeople focus on taking customers and market share away from their competititors, instead of focusing on making a better product, the public loses out. Business is not a zero sum game; when the competitors attend to making a better product, all of them can make more money, as well as the public being better satisfied. [fn Scott Armstrong's paper]. Another drawback with the gaming approach is that it obscures the role of cooperation among people and groups that are ostensibly competitors. Outsiders usually underestimate how much apparently-altruistic cooperation there is among businesses. Consider this anecdote: [from ethics lecture about furniture factories, and about Carl Barnes and fire]. Other aspects of life share this confusing mix of competiton and cooperation -- even sports. In squash, for example, two players go at it hot and heavy in a tiny enclosed court where an errant swing by one player can cost the other player a mouthful of teeth. But by being careful of your opponent you often must give up strategic postion. This means in turn that each player has an obligation to stay out of the opponent's way when it is the opponent's turn to hit. But this can never be done perfectly. Therefore, one can never press the game to the hilt but instead must make allowances and cooperate -- to protect the safety of your opponent in the short run, and to protect your own safety and to have someone to play with in the long run. Judo, too, requires that the players both compete and cooperate. When you throw your opponent, after you have got the throw going you must then reverse course and pull up on the opponent to protect him/her; you must be sure to keep the opponent from hitting the mat in such fashion that he/she breaks a shoulder. Not only do you risk injury to another if you don't do so, but you won't have any opponents for long if he don't protect your partners. How to Make Money Playing Poker To win money in a serious poker game when there are at least four other players, you need to do only one thing: play the hands that you know you ought to play, and drop out when you know you ought to drop out. That is, winning or losing depends almost completely upon your self-control. It is really as simple as that. In a serious poker game--that is, a game in which the stakes are large enough to matter to you, in comparison to a penny-ante game in which the players just get together to have a good time--almost all the players understand the odds well enough to know their chances of winning a given hand with the cards they hold (and the cards the oppo-nents show, if it is a stud game). If you don't know the odds that well, you can learn then in any standard poker. (I like Jacoby, l940, and Morehead, l969). Often you'll hear a player say, "I know I shouldn't stay in the hand, but just this time I will." Assuming that player is not trying to deceive--and in a great many cases he/she is indeed telling the truth--you have spotted a sure long-run loser. The winning player says--and to _h_i_m_s_e_l_f_/_h_e_r_s_e_l_f and not aloud--"I know I shouldn't go in, and therefore I won't." Why doesn't everyone do what they know they ought to? Simple. Games of chance--and poker has a lot of chance in it, though it also has much skill--are remarkably seductive. The exciting possibility that you _m_i_g_h_t win, even if the odds are clearly against you, is so that players are willing to pay to play--which is why you see people in Las Vegas or Atlantic City at the slot machines and crap tables. And that is what keeps the loser at the poker table. It is not easy to do what you know you ought to even if you are among the best-disciplined of people. _E_v_e_r_y_o_n_e takes ill-considered chances. But the loser "wants to dance every dance," as the old saying has it. And so you can still make a few bad bets (but not many) and come out ahead. Of course you must sometimes bluff, that is, bet even when you do not have a good chance to win. But the purpose of the bluff is simply to ensure that other players know that you sometimes bluff, and there-fore they cannot afford to drop out whenever you stay in. If they were to do that, you would never have any opponents calling your bets when you hold winning cards. But you don't need to bluff very often. And you bluff expecting to lose the hands when you bluff; if you do win them, that is just gravy. Losers bluff too often, and they do so in hopes of winning bad hands by bluffing others out. Games with less than five players are a different matter, as long as there is a fair-sized say, ante. If you are playing "head to head" with one other player, you cannot afford to drop out so quickly because your "loose" opponent will win most of the antes. In such a situation, you must often bluff with the intention of winning. This is an entirely different sort of game than I referred to above. Neither I nor anyone else can give you much useful advice, because much of the outcome depends upon various psychological factors. In contrast, in a game with five or more plays, you often do best to avoid _a_n_y psychological ploys or attempts to understand your opponents' behavior. Instead, you will win if you simply play soundly the odds, the cards and the money. The biggest difficulty with the strategy outlined here is not getting thrown out of the game (actually, not being invited back) for being too tight a player. The other players recognize that you're taking their money home with you, and (also) are causing them to be losers. There is something faintly ludicrious about that criticism, since all the players come to win, and in essence they are criticizing the winner for beating them. The only winner they won't criticize is the one that makes spectacular "intuition" plays. And many or most of such players are only winners occasionally, and usually are losers). The solution is partly a matter of appearance, of managing to look looser than you are by making a few grandstand wild plays when you can do so at little cost, together with not telling people how much you win. Aside from that, you mostly count on the fact that poker players always have trouble filling up the table to make a game. If you are honest, pleasant, play reasonably rapidly, and are not messy with cards or money, they'll usually be glad to have you even if you play tightly. Yes, they will recognize that their odds are against them when they play with you. But those who want the thrill of gambling will play with you rather than not play at all. How can I be sure that the strategy described here will work? My strongest evidence is my income tax form for l973. For most of a year, I spent perhaps every other Sunday evening playing in a hometown game, and I regularly won the equivalent of several day's or a weeks salary. Then I went to Las Vegas to give a talk and I beat the tables there. (In Las Vegas you have the added cost of the "house" take. But there you never need worry that they'll keep you from playing because you play too tight.) And I reported the thousands of dollars of winnings on my income tax form. (No one at the large accounting firm knew how to handle the matter; none had ever seen gambling win-nings reported before!). Now we come to the bottom line: If I can win money playing poker, why don't I devote myself to it, rather than quit playing as I did after a year or two? The simple answer is that in the long run, poker is a waste of time, according to my values. It produces nothing constructive, either for others or even for yourself, not even friendship except in unusual cases. You see people at their worst--losing their cool, cheating in such ways as making "mistakes" handling money, trying to entice "fish" into the game in order to "fleece" them (I know fish don't have wool, but a mixed metaphor is not inappropriate here), trying to con one another about their playing styles in conversation before and after the game, and so on. Without intending it, you may find yourself at the same table with some of the scum of the earth, which occasionally is dangerous. (If you think it is a kick to find yourself next to a big-time drug dealer, then poker may have added attraction for you.) Losers go home with guilt and self- loathing. Winners take home nothing good except money, though some enjoy their feelings of mastery. I played when I did partly because I had a very strong need of an absorbing escape for a few hours a week, and poker is indeed absorbing. (If you don't con- centrate on what you're doing, you get loose and lose.) I also played because I wanted to test out the theory described here, and in order to win enough money to prove that the system works, when I eventually would write this book as I've planned to do for a long time. But now I have the sabbath as an oasis from the rest of the week, and I don't need escape into poker. And I want to use whatever time I have on this earth either with family and friends or in trying to make what-ever contribution to others that I can with my writing and research, rather than trying to take money away from others, including some who may need it badly. Life is much too short for serious poker, in my book. _R_e_f_e_r_e_n_c_e_s Jacoby, Oswald. _O_s_w_a_l_d_ _J_a_c_o_b_y_ _o_n_ _P_o_k_e_r (New York: Doubleday: l940). Morehead, Albert H. _T_h_e_ _C_o_m_p_l_e_t_e_ _G_u_i_d_e_ _t_o_ _W_i_n_n_i_n_g_ _P_o_k_e_r (New York: Simon and Schulster/Fireside, l969). D/l2l do page # thinking poker8-@ June 29, 1989