Bluffing and Risk: Beware the Wolf

One of my favorite childhood stories was The Boy Who Cried Wolf. I could listen to that story over and over again, perhaps fearing I’d forget the message and end up in the wolf’s tummy. I never wanted to be in that boy’s situation, tending a flock, and  possibly out of boredom or the need for attention,  resorting to bluffing, “crying wolf” to summon the village people to save him from the wolf who wasn’t really there. But who really knew when the wolf would show up?  If the boy persisted in bluffing, the village people would ignore his genuine pleas for help, endangering his flock and himself. The moral of the story, of course, is to learn that indiscriminate bluffing leads to loss of credibility with potentially dire results.

In the 17^th century, bluff meant to blindfold or hoodwink (from the Dutch bluffen, or to “brag.” The current use of the word stems from the mid- 19^th century and refers to   bluffing in the card game of poker.  Bluffing is related to lying: both attempt to deceive, to give the impression that your hand is stronger than it is.  Both In poker and in life, a tight player is more effective than a wild man who looses credibility like the boy tending a flock. If bluffing backfires, the bluffer risks smearing his image, to appear weak and incompetent.  Bluff doesn’t instill trust.

Before attempting to bluff, the successful bluffer plays with steady skill; he knows the rules, knows himself, as well as his opponents and their positions, and considers all factors, including the consequences of failing, (Bob Pajich writes that former President Richard Nixon had the reputation as a good poker player when he was a navy officer. He sought advice from those he thought were the best players. James Stewart, a fellow naval officer gave him tips: “Tight is right. Only bluff when you are quite sure. Bet when you got it. Fold when you’re beat.” Long before he became president, he may have appreciated the broader application of the game. He used his winnings of $5,000 to launch his first congressional run in 1946. But once president, he used one too many bluffs. Apparently, the road from discipline to indiscriminate is smooth and short.

Psychotherapy is a poor arena for bluffing. A patient who bluffs in psychotherapy is ultimately the loser because he undermines the therapeutic goal to achieve honesty and authenticity.

In the context of parenting, bluffing is also inadvisable because the technique collides with consistency and credibility, two assets of good enough parenting.

Trump has banked his art of the deal on bluffing with the goal to further his brand. But his history reveals business failures (bankruptcies and lawsuits) as well as successes.  His bluff record is hardly steadfast or stellar.

New York Times writer Neil Irwin points out that in the political arena, bluffing is tricky. It involves dealing with other world leaders who most likely know each other’s hands— that is, what each has to win or loose. If the conditions are too outrageous, a negotiator walks away from the bargaining table. In dealing with a wild, waffling bluffer like Trump, who has sullied his image, walking away becomes easier and easier.

Irwin notes that bluffocracy has replaced democracy, and as a result the world suffers a kind of paralysis. We can’t move forward. No one knows how to interpret Trump’s statements, judge his intentions, predict his next move or be certain that a deal struck today will have meaning tomorrow. In dealing with Trump, we tread water; progress lies beyond reach. No one knows when Trump is calling wolf, and based on recent news, Trump doesn’t know either.

A second Aesop’s fable seems relevant, The Scorpion and the Frog. When the frog asks the scorpion to ferry him across the river without harming him, the scorpion agrees. But once they reach the other side, the scorpion betrays him. “Why?” asks the frog. “Because it is my nature,” replies the scorpion. Trump’s nature has been to bluff to further his own interests. To expect otherwise is to betray ourselves.

 New York Times op-ed writer Peter Wehner sums up the tragedy. Trump doesn’t believe in the higher power of his office—the belief that governing well advances human good.  Sabina Berman, a Mexican playwright said, “ This is the end of the U.S. as the Northern Star—the star that used to guide democracy.”

Conclusion: Bluffing belongs in the card game of poker but has serious limitations in love, life and politics. With a notoriously bad bluffer in the White House, democracy can’t progress. The U.S. has lost its stardom in the world’s eyes. The question: Can we ever regain what we’ve lost?

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