Finite and Infinite Games
““There are at least two kinds of games: finite and infinite. A finite game is played for the purpose of winning, an infinite game for the purpose of continuing the play. Finite games are those instrumental activities - from sports to politics to wars - in which the participants obey rules, recognize boundaries and announce winners and losers. The infinite game - there is only one - includes any authentic interaction, from touching to culture, that changes rules, plays with boundaries and exists solely for the purpose of continuing the game. A finite player seeks power; the infinite one displays self-sufficient strength. Finite games are theatrical, necessitating an audience; infinite ones are dramatic, involving participants...””
When Bruce first presented sketch of Flook to me, I immediately thought of a book my assistant football coach handed me when he knew that I had become more interested in making mix-tapes of The Cure and Joy Division than learning “Red 52 Go” and having my face mask jammed into the grass: James P. Carse’s “Finite and Infinite Games.” The core of the book is contained in the quote above (and the whole thing is only 160 pages): a finite game has rules, boundaries, win conditions, and ends. An infinite game’s only purpose is to continue among a community of players (preferably to enlarge such a community). As we elaborated the principles of the game (“should there be rewards?,” “what does it mean to win?”) we repeatedly went back to the ideas in Carse’s warm, wonderful book.
My 16 year-old daughter is starting as a full-time college student this fall and we have had some very, very difficult and many more great, expansive days together. She is what one might call an “apprehensive Flook user.” There’s a deck in her room. Sometimes on the floor. Sometimes on the bedside. It will occasionally migrate to the dining room table. But it is often on the floor of her room, next to her backpack, where she’ll riffle through it when she is bored. Is that the “right way” to use Flook?
It is for her.
Another friend of ours’ son is meticulous about his Flook decks. He curates his weekend’s activities with a deck of Possibles that he then draws from and applies the Powers he’s decided to use against them. Often, his parents will arrive down to the living room and he will already be working at something he designed himself by modifying a card. He’s eleven and they are amused and amazed by his self-directed use of his deck.
He figured out his way.
You can’t win or loose at Flook: it was designed as an infinite game. How do you learn how to use Flook? Like life: you have a look at what you have in your hands, see what sparks your imagination, and you start seeing whether that works for you. There will be some modifications along the way. You learn how others get by and you’ll tell some stories. We hope you’ll share yours with us on Facebook or Twitter—and that no matter how you use your Flook deck, your first thought of it is about the chance it might bring to the day—about the unexpected conversations it will spark.