The Infinite Game. Simon Sinek. London, UK: Penguin Random House, 2019.
A few years ago, two of my research interests—strategy and play—collided. What started with a simple list of quotes that seemed to apply equally to either domain has led to an ever-expanding project covering topics from Greek mythology to modern design theory.[1] Perhaps the most profound resource applicable to both is philosopher James Carse’s 1986 Finite and Infinite Games: A Vision of Life as Play and Possibility. It is a dense little book that skips any preamble and opens immediately with its core assertion:
“There are at least two kinds of games. One could be called finite; the other infinite. A finite game is played for the purpose of winning, an infinite game for the purpose of continuing the play.”[2]
The remaining 148 pages expound upon these statements in short, dense, and often enigmatic sections that sound more like poetry than prose. It is the type of book that deserves the unpacking afforded other great concepts that are less accessible in the author’s original prose. For that reason, I eagerly awaited Simon Sinek’s new work, The Infinite Game.
Sinek has a well deserved reputation for translating ideas for mass consumption. Consider, for example, how he relates neuroscience to leadership in Leaders Eat Last. Likewise, this new book would presumably introduce Carse’s important work to a wider audience, while also offering a deeper understanding of its obscurity. What the reader gets, however, is a sort of Trojan horse in reverse. The Infinite Game is not the introduction of something complex and impactful via an easily acceptable narrative. Instead, Sinek uses Carse’s powerful words to veil a collection of bland leadership lessons communicated in pithy phrases. Tragically, those ideas often contradict the scope, substance, and spirit of the philosopher’s original concept.
The first chapter of The Infinite Game attempts to bridge from Carse’s work, which tackles the nature of all life, to Sinek’s business-centric framework. A different purpose is the first of many dissimilarities between these dimensions that continue throughout the book. In the chapter’s second sentence, for example, Sinek refers to multiple infinite games. In Carse’s original, one of the central points—and the final revelation of the book—is “there is but one infinite game.”[3] Also, while Sinek overlays a negative connotation to anything finite, Carse acknowledges everyone plays such games. What the philosopher Carse advocates, instead, is having a mindset that values the evolution of the competition—including other players’ ability to continue the game. This is an awkward sentiment for strategists, who likely identify more with Sinek’s fundamentally different assertion that an infinite mindset is about “becom[ing] better players ourselves.”[4] So, while Carse challenges conventional wisdom by suggesting it is a duty to support one’s competitors, Sinek simply reaffirms this approach is ultimately about one’s own advantage.
The following chapters go through each of Sinek’s “five essential practices” using simplistic stories with the usual characters taken straight from the pages of popular business literature.[5] For instance, Sinek’s first practice—described in chapters two through six—is simply about having a noble principle to guide your organizations. Relative to the scholarship that already exists on mission and vision statements, Sinek’s treatment is superficial. Successful companies, like Walmart under Sam Walton, are distinguished from failing companies, such as Walmart under Mike Duke, by virtue of whether they “checked all the boxes” of Sinek’s recipe for a “just cause.”[6] The prerequisite to strategic success is reduced to this one variable, which itself is reduced to a formula, and it is all supported by shallow circumstantial evidence. In contrast, in Finite and Infinite Games, Carse makes little pretense of case stories, offers no glib advice, and stays true to the theoretical nature of the work.
Chapters seven and eight address the next essential practice, “trusting teams.”[7] Sinek uses examples from Shell Oil and the U.S. Marine Corps Officer Candidate School to highlight the importance of courageous vulnerability, psychological safety, and emotional intelligence. These phrases were not in vogue when Carse published his work in 1986. He did, however, affirm the social nature of play while expressing similar notions regarding trust as an ever-evolving element of the infinite game. Surprisingly, in the one section where The Infinite Game aligns most closely with Finite and Infinite Games, Sinek does little to connect with the original framework despite the earlier claim he would look “at the world through Carse’s lens.”[8] Even if he had, one can presume he would continue distorting the philosopher’s ideas on the enduring nature of reality to fit recent stories of organizational success.
Chapter nine opens with an auto-biographical sketch about his “worthy rival.”[9] This practice is about adopting a healthier attitude towards one’s competitor. The vignette is overly romanticized, suggesting this simple shift improves everything from resilience and resource management, to innovation and personal integrity. Additionally, it continues the misrepresentation of Carse’s idea by putting everything in terms of how it will ultimately benefit the reader, if only they follow Sinek’s advice. Yes, it is not surprising Steve Jobs used other players in his field to clarify his winning strategy. Yet, the notion of winning—or resolution of any type—is absent from the original notion of an infinite mindset. For Carse, only finite players default to an emphasis on closure over continuation.
Next is the practice of “existential flexibility,” which is the ability to change a business paradigm or strategic context in order to realize the organization’s long-term vision. Sinek pulls on the well-trodden illustrations of Walt Disney, Apple, and Kodak. Again, the logic is flawed and the case studies are oversimplified. According to Sinek, visionary leaders fail if employees are frustrated, but without deeper analysis it is impossible to rule out frustration as an effect of failure instead of its cause. In each example, what purportedly determined the success or failure of these businesses was the proactive, “offensive” efforts to “initiate an extreme disruption” to their business model.[10] The contrast with the original work could not be more vivid. For Carse, only finite players make such attempts at control. Infinite players, on the other hand, “continue their play in the expectation of being surprised.” He goes on to note that “[while] surprise causes finite play to end; it is the reason for infinite play…the infinite player does not expect only to be amused by surprise, but to be transformed by it.”[11] Furthermore, Sinek claims an infinite-minded leader looks “miles beyond the horizon.” Carse frequently employs the same imagery, but for him the horizon represents the impassable limit to human vision.[12]
The final chapter in The Infinite Game covers the “courage to lead.” This principle highlights a valuable point for leaders and strategists: trading known benefits in the present for a longer-term, hypothetical advantage can be a difficult proposition. His case study is the decision by a major drugstore chain to discontinue selling tobacco products because it contradicted their corporate vision to promote health. In offering a checklist-like approach with the promise of “a little more control” over the risk, Sinek once again neuters the boldness of Carse’s assertion that the infinite player does not even think in terms of closure or predictability.[13]
As illustrated above, Sinek’s argument is not convincing for critical readers attuned to rigorous logic, compelling evidence, and novel insight. Furthermore, even though the concept of infinite and finite games should appeal to students of strategy, Sinek’s treatment in The Infinite Game is not worth engaging. For example, despite his repeated references to the Cold War as an exemplar of an infinite game in his public presentations, the topic warrants all of six pages in the book.[14] Moreover, the treatment reveals his continued confusion over Carse’s definitions of the two types of games. To cite just one more example, because political violence is always finite, the Cold War did not —as Sinek claims—“meet all the standards of an Infinite Game.”[15]
Perhaps it is unfair to compare a book meant for popular audiences with a philosophical treatise by a Professor Emeritus of history and literature of religion. Perhaps Sinek and Carse simply had widely divergent purposes despite using identical words. In fact, wrapping this in Carse’s language seems to overburden The Infinite Game. Admittedly, neither Sinek’s recommendations, nor his examples, are necessarily flawed. His central points about the importance of long-term thinking, organizational agility, and transformational leadership, however, are better represented elsewhere.[16] Specifically, those interested in strategic theory that is both philosophical and unconventional would do better to read Robert Chia and Robin Holt’s Strategy without Design: The Silent Efficacy of Indirect Action or Everett Dolman’s Pure Strategy, the latter of which is one of the few books in the field that cites Carse.
Better yet, consider doing your own study of Carse’s short but challenging work. It holds meaningful ideas that serve as interesting intellectual exercises for military strategists. For example, what does it mean for national security when he writes that “infinite players do not rise to meet arms with arms; instead, they make use of laughter, vision, and surprise to engage the state and put its boundaries back into play?”[17] Is it possible, in our present strategic culture, to gain public support for any approach that privileges continuation over victorious closure? Is an infinite mindset more applicable to a paradigm that embraces a spectrum of conflict and competition instead of war and peace?
The shortcomings of The Infinite Game notwithstanding, the concept of play, along with its subcategory of games, is still a topic worth mining for strategists. The reviewed work, however, does nothing to advance this dialogue. The main disappointment, however, lies elsewhere. If anyone presumes Sinek has adequately translated Carse’s idea, The Infinite Game may dissuade readers from engaging with the original work. Hopefully, there are some infinite thinkers out there who do not perceive either work as the final word on the matter, but as simply another move in an unfolding discourse on “a vision of life as play and possibility.”[18]
Jason M. Trew is an officer in the U.S. Air Force and holds a PhD in the History of Technology from Auburn University. He has presented his research into the intersection of strategy and play at international conferences and applied it as a design coach. The views expressed are the author’s alone and do not represent the official position of the U.S. Air Force, the Department of Defense, or the U.S. Government.
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Notes:
[1] Jason Trew, “Can Strategy be Playful?,” PAX Sims, 11 December 2016, https://paxsims.wordpress.com/2016/11/12/trew-can-strategy-be-playful/
[2] James Carse, Finite and Infinite Games (New York: Free Press, 1986), 149.
[3] Carse, 149.
[4] Simon Sinek, The Infinite Game (London: Penguin Business, 2019), 174.
[5] Sinek, 24.
[6] Sinek, 37, 50.
[7] Sinek, 103
[8] Sinek, 4.
[9] Sinek, 159.
[10] Sinek, 185.
[11] Carse, 18-19.
[12] Sinek, 188; Carse, 57-58.
[13] Sinek 201.
[14] TED Archive. “Simon Sinek: What game theory teaches us about war.” November 8, 2016. Video, 9:48. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bFs6ZiynSU.
[15] Sinek, 175.
[16] Better scholarship on these issues has been produced by Henry Mintzberg in The Rise and Fall of Strategic Planning, Robert Kegan and Lisa Lahey in An Everyone Culture, Brene Brown’s Daring Greatly, and Nassim Taleb’s Antifragile.
[17] Carse, 61-2.
[18] Carse (subtitle)