LUDIC LAWS

With a slight belatedness of action, when we could not report on TV shows of interest due to incongruous events, we’re back in business bashing Vincent - as he doesn’t mind. But since we’re a conservative kind, before we say anything, a reference must be made as to the staging of this third set in the series The Power of Thought in which Vincent talks some philosophy with an invited guest, who is an expert in some related area. “Still no women on the list of names,” I want to object, even while feeling Whitmanesque today, embodying multitudes, and all. But mercy must be granted, for the following, more irrational than rational, reason: as Vincent was flagging my favourite country, and flaunted a Beckettian slim fit, we made a realization. Of course there’ll be no women on the show because the only one worth inviting will say ‘no’ to public appearances. I know this because that woman is myself. We thus acknowledge Vincent’s acknowledging of our uniqueness and singularity. In the face of what is possible, let us then stick to writing and let him stick to men. What’s fair is fair. “Immutable and just, the law. Justice is less sure of itself,” I thus write on behalf of the poet Jabès, whose words, which I would have quoted for the first instalment, still reverberate.

Game theory. Pelle Guldborg Hansen, who is a colleague of mine at Roskilde U was invited this week not only to offer some insights into the field but also to play a game with Vincent and a robot named Robert. The game was inconclusive. Vincent was bidding in a game of auction without thinking, and Pelle decided that insofar as he can decide that the robot is his he can thus win all the stakes all the same. This says something about the instrumentality of games, namely that something is always lurking in the wings which may well render the whole strategic, ludic structure in a game irrational. On this, I’m amusingly reminded of the statement in the preface to the book that Vincent and Pelle co-edited, a collection of interviews based on five questions, Game Theory, which says this about the material gathered in the answers from diverse luminaries: “The responses are self-contained and readable and no overarching view of the nature of game theory is lurking in the wings.” Believe we must what we all must.

Pelle made a distinction between the desire to win and the conviction which determines the actions taken towards maximizing one’s winning potential. This distinction submits to the rules of the game, which in principle are devised primarily according to convention rather than conviction. Especially since conviction can, at times, be shown to be grounded in fictitious or imaginary contexts. If, according to Pelle, the aim is to raise one’s son so that he would become a disciplined man rather than a loving one, then prioritizing discipline over and above love legitimizes the action according to the conviction that dictates precisely that discipline, and not love, is the rational rule to follow and enforce. Pelle mentioned no outcomes of such a decision, but I could imagine two scenarios: the son would be ready either for the military or philosophy – a win/win situation, some might add.

Then Vincent wanted to know about irrational acts in game playing. Here, Pelle introduced the notion of time. Irrational acts are deemed irrational, more often than not, not within a short-term perspective, or in the immediacy of when the act is committed, but within the perspective of lapsed time. In hindsight, we often say: “that was pretty dumb”, even if at the time of the event, the rule dictating the ‘now’ unfortunate act was deemed most rational. This shows that claims to rationality are in fact determined not by rationality per se but by cultural precepts and conventions. Within this framework, cooperation, rather than playing head against head is obviously a preferred strategy as it enhances collective wins as against total annihilation.

To my surprise, no one made a mathematical statement. What about winning strategies in an infinite game? I like players who play with strength rather than for closure, as this discloses some of the most profound and multifaceted processes of inner psychological drama that unfolds itself against the background of willed, yet not always predictable interaction. What happens when emotion rather than reason responds to counter-intuitive moves, thus heightening the intelligence of the game itself? On the cultural side, and in tandem with the more interesting set theorists, it may have been a good idea to mention in the show such figures as Michel de Certeau. In his influential book, The Practise of Everyday Life he makes a distinction between strategies and tactics. The first answers the institutional call, while the latter is more individual. How an agent creates space for himself to operate within, against yet also according to the existing structural powers, is already mind-boggling, as much of this space is defined tactically by repetitive – and paradoxically – unconscious acts. These acts are then deemed by agents rational even when they are illogical. Against this background, all those who claim to grow quite weary of the rationalists – myself included – have a point. For, what makes a game interesting is noticing that which has the tendency to slip past us – the irrational act included. Game theory would not be interesting game theory if it did not face us head on. Which means what, exactly? Which means that one has to start with a consideration of the poetic universe in homo ludens. If I were a game theorist, I would thus start with the words of Edmond Jabès in his book of aphorisms, Desire for a Beginning, Dread of One Single End.

"One possible approach to the [ludic] universe is simply to approach the possible.
Here the impossible comes up against the perennial problem of being inconceivable, a crucial problem that it keeps evading.
There will always be an impossible, undermined by possibility." (17)