Let me start somewhere that usually doesn’t show up on an agenda slide, but somehow decides how everything else unfolds anyway.
When you walk into a new partnership, or a client engagement, or even a difficult internal conversation…
do you notice whether you’re arriving open — or already slightly guarded?
Not guarded in an obvious way.
Just enough to keep a little distance.
Just enough to stay safe.
Most of us don’t even register it consciously anymore.
The body learned it a long time ago.
The Things We Call “Professionalism”
What we often label as maturity, experience, or professionalism is really a collection of small adaptations we’ve made after learning — sometimes the hard way — that trust, when misplaced, has a cost.
So we add clauses.
We ask for one more review.
We keep things vague where clarity would feel risky.
And none of that is wrong.
It’s rational behaviour in short-term games.
But here’s a question worth pausing on, without trying to answer too quickly:
At what point does protecting yourself quietly start limiting what’s possible?
Because the Game Changes — Whether We Acknowledge It or Not
There comes a point where you realise you’re no longer playing one-off games.
You’re not dealing with anonymous players anymore.
You’re working with the same people.
Seeing the same names pop up again and again.
Building things that take time, memory, and mutual understanding to hold together.
And once interactions repeat, everything changes.
Because now, every move is remembered.
Every choice leaves a trace.
Every moment becomes part of a longer story.
This is where game theory stops being academic and starts feeling very real.
You Should Actually Experience This
At this point, I usually ask people to do something slightly unusual.
Not read another book.
Not take another framework.
Just spend a few minutes with The Evolution of Trust interactive simulation at
https://ncase.me/trust/
Not because it’s clever — though it is —
but because it makes something visible that’s otherwise easy to miss.
You see, very quickly, how trust collapses in short-term, anonymous systems.
And you also see how it begins to stabilise — almost quietly — when interactions repeat and the future matters.
What stands out isn’t idealism.
It’s realism.
The strategies that survive aren’t soft.
They’re not naïve.
They’re cooperative, responsive, and forgiving — but they remember.
As you go through it, it’s worth noticing:
Which strategy feels most familiar to you — especially under pressure?
This Is What Naval Is Really Pointing At
When Naval Ravikant talks about playing long-term games with long-term people, it’s easy to hear it as philosophy.
It isn’t.
It’s a precise observation about incentives.
In long-term games:
- reputation compounds
- intent becomes visible
- behaviour eventually catches up with belief
You can get away with a lot in short-term environments.
In long-term ones, everything shows up — eventually.
Which is why trust becomes less about virtue and more about alignment.
And This Is Where Simon Sinek’s Infinite Game Matters
Simon Sinek describes the difference between finite and infinite games, and once you see it, it’s hard to unsee.
Finite games are about winning.
Clear rules.
Clear endpoints.
Clear losers.
Infinite games are about continuing.
Rules evolve.
Players change.
The point is not to win — it’s to stay in the game, relevant and intact.
Here’s the quiet but critical part:
Trust only makes sense in an infinite game.
If you believe the game ends soon, extraction is logical.
If you believe the game continues, cooperation becomes intelligent.
So a question worth sitting with is this:
Are you behaving as if the game is finite — while hoping for infinite outcomes?
Non-Zero-Sum Thinking Isn’t Idealistic — It’s Accurate
A lot of tension in organisations comes from applying zero-sum thinking where it doesn’t belong.
We compete where value could be expanded.
We hoard information where sharing would actually increase leverage.
We protect territory where collaboration would create more surface area for everyone.
Non-zero-sum systems allow for something deeply counterintuitive:
We can all do better — together — without anyone losing.
But only if we stop assuming scarcity where none actually exists.
So it’s worth asking, quietly:
Where am I still playing a zero-sum game out of habit, not necessity?
Co-Creation Is Where Control Has to Relax
True co-creation isn’t about being agreeable.
It’s about being willing to let outcomes be shaped by people you don’t fully control — and trusting that what emerges may be richer than what you could design alone.
That’s uncomfortable.
It asks for patience.
It asks for restraint.
It asks you to resist stepping in just to reduce your own anxiety.
And it only works when the time horizon is long enough for trust to compound.
Why Control Feels Right — Until It Doesn’t
Control offers immediate relief.
It simplifies decisions.
It reduces ambiguity.
It gives the comforting sense that things are “handled”.
But control also communicates something — even when no one says it out loud.
It says:
“I don’t fully trust you with this.”
People respond rationally.
They comply.
They stop offering their best thinking.
They protect themselves.
Over time, control doesn’t create safety.
It creates friction.
A question worth reflecting on:
Where might control be solving today’s discomfort at the cost of tomorrow’s commitment?
Parenting Makes the Pattern Impossible to Ignore
If you want to see this dynamic clearly, look at parenting.
Children don’t respond to authority the way we imagine they do.
They respond to patterns.
They notice whether promises are kept.
They notice how mistakes are treated.
They notice whether cooperation is respected or exploited.
And slowly, logically, they adjust.
Not out of rebellion.
Out of learning.
Different setting.
Same game.
The Question Beneath All the Others
Most people keep asking:
“Can I trust them?”
It’s the wrong question.
The more important one — and the harder one — is this:
Am I creating an environment where trusting me is a rational choice?
Because trust doesn’t emerge from words.
It emerges from consistency.
From how power is used.
From how mistakes are handled.
From whether people believe the future actually matters here.
Choosing Long-Term People Is Strategic, Not Sentimental
Not everyone wants to play long-term games.
Some people optimise for speed, extraction, and exit.
That doesn’t make them bad — just misaligned.
The real work is discernment.
Knowing where co-creation is possible.
And where it simply isn’t.
Trust doesn’t grow everywhere.
And forcing it is usually how it breaks.
Bringing This Back to You
If work feels heavier than it should.
If alignment feels fragile.
If progress requires constant effort instead of quiet momentum.
It may be worth asking — without judgement:
- What game am I acting as if I’m in?
- And what game do I actually want to be playing?
Because once people believe the game is long…
they invest differently.
they show up differently.
they co-create instead of comply.
One Last Thought to Sit With
The most valuable thing you can build over time isn’t scale, or leverage, or even expertise.
It’s a reputation for being someone worth playing long-term, non-zero-sum games with.
That reputation isn’t announced.
It accumulates quietly — decision by decision — especially when short-term advantage would have been easier.
If this resonates, spend time with The Evolution of Trust at
https://ncase.me/trust/
and notice how small choices, repeated consistently, reshape entire systems.
Because once you really see how trust evolves,
you stop trying to force outcomes.
And co-creation stops being a goal —
it becomes the natural result.