
In the prisoner’s dilemma, two partners in crime are being interrogated separately. The state lacks the evidence to convict them of the crime they committed but does have enough evidence to convict both on a lesser charge bringing, say, a one-year prison term for each. The prosecutor wants conviction on the more serious charge, and pressures each man individually to confess and implicate the other. She says: “If you confess but your partner doesn’t, I’ll let you off free and use your testimony to lock him up for ten years. And if you don’t confess, yet your partner does, you go to prison for ten years. If you confess and your partner does too, I’ll put you both away, but only for three years.” The question is: Will the two prisoners cooperate with each other, both refusing to confess? Or will one or both of them “defect” (”cheat”)?
If the two prisoners can’t communicate with each other, and both behave logically, they will almost certainly both suffer as a result. To see this, just pretend you’re one of the prisoners and run through your options one by one. Suppose, first of all, that your partner cheats on you by copping a plea. Then you’re better off cheating on him and confessing: you get three years in jail, as opposed to the ten you’d get by staying silent. Now suppose your partner doesn’t cheat — doesn’t confess. You’re still better off cheating, because then you get out of jail, whereas if you stayed mum like your partner, you’d each get a one-year jail term. So the logic seems irresistible: don’t cooperate with your partner; cheat on him.
But if both of you follow this logic, and both cheat, then you’ll both get three years in jail. And if both of you hadn’t cheated — if both had stayed mum — you would have just gotten one year in jail. So mutual mumness is, relatively speaking, the win-win outcome. But it makes no sense for either of you to stay mum unless you’ve both been assured by the other that he will stay mum, too.
Robert Axelrod organized a tournament that amounted to a simulation of biological evolution. Several dozen people submitted computer programs that embodied particular strategies for playing the prisoner’s dilemma. The programs were then allowed to interact with each other — as if they constituted a kind of society. Upon each interaction, the two programs involved would “decide” — on the basis of their algorithms — whether to cheat or cooperate. Depending on what each had decided, both would receive a score representing the outcome of that encounter.
Then each would move on to the next encounter, with another program. In each round, there would be enough encounters so that every program interacted with every other program 200 times. At the end of each round, the scores for each program, each “player,” were added up. Programs were then allowed to “replicate” in proportion to their score. So the better your program did in one round — one “generation” — the more copies of it there would be in the next generation.
The winning program was called “Tit for Tat.” Tit for Tat’s strategy was very simple. On its first encounter with any given program, it would cooperate. On subsequent encounters, it would do whatever that program had done on the previous occasion. In short, Tit for Tat would reward past cooperation with present cooperation and would punish past cheating with present cheating. Generation by generation, Tit for Tat came to dominate the population, so that, more and more, Tit for Tats spent their time interacting with other Tit for Tats. Such interactions invariably blossomed into stable, cooperative relationships. As the game wore on, the “society” of players in Axelrod’s computer exhibited more and more amity and order.
By showing how cooperation could evolve without formal communication, Axelrod had shown how reciprocal altruism could evolve in animals that don’t do much talking — including chimpanzees and vampire bats. He had also shown how stable, cooperative relationships could form in a very small society of humans without much explicit discussion; so long as the same players encounter each other day after day — as in a small hunter-gatherer society — trust could develop even with little explicit commitment.
A key feature of cultural evolution has been to make it possible for such non-zero-sum games to get played over great distances, among a large number of players. And in these kinds of situations, typically, there does need to be explicit communication (however circuitous), and there do need to be explicit means of sustaining trust. Hence the importance of evolving information technology in expanding the scope and complexity of social organization.
From Nonzero: The Logic of Human Destiny, by Robert Wright