The sucker's payoff

TWO prisoners, FOUR possible outcomes, a dilemma, a paradox.

TWO suspects were accused of having jointly committed a crime. Let’s call them Henry and Dave.. Police is aware that it doesn’t have strong evidence against them and plans to request one year in prison for both.

They are put into separate cells and cannot communicate with each other.

In questioning the suspects, Police decides to offer each one of them a deal:

- “If you testify against your partner, then you will go free and your mate will get 3 years in prison. But there is a catch, if you testify against each other, both will be sentenced to two years”.

So there are FOUR possible outcomes:

If both stay silent, each one will get 2 years, if both accuse the other, each one will get 3 years, but if one testifies against the other and this one remains silent, the accuser will get 1 year and the other will get 5 years (the sucker 's payoff).

In such situation, what would you do, defect o cooperate? You’d probably reason the following way:

-       If the other remains silent, by accusing him, I will get 1 year. I WILL ACCUSE HIM.

-       If the other accuses me and I remain silent, I will get 5 years. I WILL ACCUSE HIM (I don’t wanna get the sucker’s payoff).

-       But if the other accuses me and I accuse him, both will get 3 years which is better than 5. I WILL ACCUSE HIM.

-       Of course we’ll be better off if we both remain silent, but I cannot run that risk.

So, no matter what the other guy does, it is better to defect. This is the “rational” conduct. And this applies to the other guy too.

So there is a DILEMA and a PARADOX.

A DILEMA, because the situation offers them two possibilities (to cooperate or to defect), neither being comfortable.

And a PARADOX, because there is a contradiction: they can be better off by cooperating, but looking for their self-interest and acting “rationally”, they have no option but to defect.

Any two party relationship --employer-employee, priest-penitent, lawyer-client—and many situations in life, imply a prisoner's dilemma.

For instance,

LOVE

Love implies sacrifices. Making a sacrifice for someone you love is playing the cooperation card. A failure to make a sacrifice in return, a dishonesty or infidelity, is a defection. Sucker's payoffs in relationships include being left alone to raise the children while the ex-spouse goes off to marry someone younger.

ECONOMY

The current crisis would alleviate if, instead of saving, we would spend more: the economy would revitalise and the crisis would disappear. But people don’t cooperate; they prefer to keep their money to preserve their own security. This way they only aggravate the crisis against the interest of us all.

TOASTMASTERS

Toastmasters is about acquiring public speaking abilities and about cooperation between club members. If you don’t cooperate with Club activities: accepting roles, being part of management team, helping organise events, bringing guests, in sum, letting the others organise the things, you are losing.

Moral: what, apparently, is best for each person individually, leads to mutual defection, whereas everyone would have been better using mutual cooperation.

If you want to be incrementally better: Be competitive. If you want to be exponentially better: Be cooperative.

A crisis with Capital C

The current economic crisis in Spain is the result of a property bubble, some squandering of taxpayer’s money, and the impossibility of currency devaluation.

All three are attributable to the euro.

The issue may be of interest to you because Austria and Spain are members of the eurozone, and that links our destinies as nations more than it appears to the naked eye.

Will the euro get bust? Is there hope?

Let me present the face of the economic crisis in Spain

This is Valencia Opera Theatre. Impressing, isn’t it? It resembles the Sydney Opera, doesn’t it? It is the work of famous Valencia architect Santiago Calatrava. Any guess about its construction cost?

332 M €!

How many operas do they perform? 5 a year. The losses it generates are colossal: 7.5 M € per year.

They celebrate weddings. Hey, are you planning to finally wed your long-time partner? Looking for an original setting? This is it. Your guests will be delighted.

And what is this?

This is the unemployment in Spain: 25% of the labour force (52% among the young). That’s one in every four, 6 million people. That’s about two times the labor force of Austria. Can you imagine, two Austrias unemployed?

> S 3

This is part of the installations made for the 2007 America’s Cup, a yachting competition extravagance, that lasted 6 months. The building is now unused.

Any guess about its cost?

35 M €

Hey, they celebrate business meetings. Do you like to impress your clients? Bring them here, by the sea.

And what is this, 426 €?

This is the amount a long term jobless person receives as benefits (per month). A misery

This is the high-speed train station. This train covers the 350km Valencia – Madrid itinerary in just 90 minutes at 300 km/hour. The cost of the whole project?

6.6 billion €

This number refers to people: 11.5 M

And this is the number of Spaniards in risk of social exclusion or outright poverty

So, what is happening? Where is Spain, once the eight economic world power, present football world champion going?

To begin, let’s make a little history.

The monetary union that formed the euro was a half-baked cake. Theory holds that a currency union has to be accompanied by banking, fiscal and economic union. This was not done so, in the hope that, after the monetary union came into effect, eurozone economies would somehow align themselves together behind the best performers.

Economies actually diverged and, when times were good, this wasn’t noticed too much. But, when the economic crisis hit hard in 2008, the differences became apparent between the core (Germany, Holland, Austria) and the periphery, the so called PIGS (Portugal, Italy, Ireland, Greece, and Spain).

When the financial crisis of 2008 of the subprime mortgages exploded in the US, and spread throughout the world, Spain was not affected very much, but we had our own subprime.

The advent of the euro had a very important effect in Spain: the cost of borrowing lowered substantially. We were able to borrow at rock-bottom German interest! Spain’s businesses and families went on a buying spree.

A credit bubble developed. It created a tsunami of debt. Nobody dared to stop it. It would have been like arriving to a party and pulling off the plug of the music equipment.

Spain’s public and private sectors owe now approximately 300 % of GDP 250 to foreign creditors.

Spain was a country heavily geared towards construction so, with the cheap credit, there was a construction boom. And a property bubble that created a mountain of unsold houses.

So we had two bubbles: the credit bubble and the property bubble.

The Spanish property bubble is now so famous that it even in the Wikipedia! Here it is!

It’s curious how well adjusts this curve to the theory.

History of bubbles show that the price has to come down to be adjusted to the inflation (the green line).

When the property bubble burst and prices fell,  Banks, especially Local Banks were up to their ears in property when prices fell. Suddenly they found they were broke.

They fell like a castle of cards

Then, we had a financial crisis.

As banks, conventional wisdom says, cannot go bust, the Government came to the rescue. But it wasn’t enough.

Spain had to ask the ECB for a rescue of our Banks. BAILOUT!

The Eurogroup president was not very happy, as you can see.

The diagnostic:

-      public deficit is caused by the generosity of the welfare state

-      commercial deficit is caused by high salaries and lack of competitiveness of businesses

-      over indebtedness of families is caused by their incontinence in the property expense

The treatment:

Compulsive austerity policies.

If we listen to Nobel Prize economist Paul Krugman, in his book “End this depression now”, he considers that, to attempt fiscal consolidation in an economic depression, only makes things worse.

As happened in 1930 and 1933 with the austerity measures of Herbert Hoover in USA o Chancellor Heinrich Brüning in Germany, the policies of our Governments are wrong on the diagnostic and on the therapy.

Spain has entered into a vicious circle. Where spending cuts result in a depression in demand, a contraction of GDP and a shrink of tax base, more deficit, more interest and new recipes from the Troika

We have described the economic effects, but what about the social effects?

-      Social unrest

-      Poverty is being visible

-      Territorial tensions

I can see that in the street myself.

In the meantime, the European pundits and politicians are wondering what to do first: the fiscal union, the banking union, or the political union.

Is there hope?

I think that the EU will not permit the euro to break up. So much is at stake. It will set the Union back 50 years.

Spain has been through difficulties before and we have always overcome them. I remember the post-war years.

So, lets reconstruct the euro. Let’s trust it will reinforce, not weaken the union.

Literary disurbances: the last call

It was terrible, Honey, I was driving on the road, so quietly, and then a car overtakes me, FIUU!, and then another, FIUU!, and then other, FIUU!, when the mobile just rings, RING, RING, RING!, I slow a little to answer and, at the other side GUAU, GUAU, GUAU, MIAU, MIAU, a pet shop, wrong number, so I hung up with a tachycardia not to be told, BUM, BUM, BUM!, non-stop, and I am with the nerves on edge, when, suddenly, COF, COF, COF, an incredible cough, followed by I don’t know how many ACHIS, ACHIS, ACHIS!, that made me close the eyes for a moment and then CHAS, TRAS, PAF, ZAS!, when I open them, I am with the car stamped against a traffic sign, dammit, why they put them in the middle, I try to start the engine but it doesn’t do neither RUN, nor RAN!, so RING, RING, I call the tow car, which comes along with an ambulance, NIII-NOOOO, NIII-NOOOO, does it hurts you here AY!, does it hurt you there AY!, swallow this, GULP, GULP, sign here, CHAS, CHAS, you may leave, I take a taxi, it gets into a traffic jam, MEC!, MEC!, everybody honks, and my head about to explode, PUM, I get out of the taxi with such bad luck that I slip, CATAPUN, I have a deplorable look, and I will miss our date. Honey? CLONC!, she hung up.

Diagnostic: onomatopoeia, the sign created o imitate a natural sound.

Involution

Not a rumour in the dark.

His hands were behind his back, the wrists bound with a cord.A man stood by a whitewashed wall in southern Alabama.

He faced the firing squad and closed his eyes in order to fix his last thoughts upon his mother.

Striking through the thought of his dear mother was a sound which he could neither ignore nor understand: a sharp, distinct metallic percussion like the stroke of a blacksmith’s hammer upon the anvil. They hurt his ear like the thrust of a knife, he feared he would shriek. What he heard was the ticking of his watch.

The soldiers were at “parade rest”, the butts of their rifles on the ground, the barrels inclining slightly backward against the right shoulder, the hands crossed about the stock.

He saw his mother holding his hand and taking him back to his home town. They passed through the dirty streets and saw a dead dog on the berm.

Further away they heard the hue-and-cry of some teenagers fighting for a joint of marihuana.

She laid him on the bed. Daniel stretched out and closed his eyes again.

A lieutenant stood at the right of the line, the point of his sword upon the ground, his left hand resting upon his right.

A doctor completed the scene.

Death is a dignitary who when he comes announced is to be received with formal manifestation of respect, even by those most familiar with him.

The man who was about to be shot was apparently about thirty-five years of age. He had a kindly expression which one would hardly have expected in someone whose life was at stake.

His features were good –a straight nose, firm mouth, broad forehead from which his long, dark hair was combed straight back, falling behind his ears to the collar of his well fitting frock coat.

Evidently this was no vulgar assassin.

The soldiers pointed directly to the body.

The night was darker than usual and he wanted to find a star, but the narrow window of the cell barely allowed him to see a tiny piece of sky.

He raised his head. His mother adjusted the pillow.

All of a sudden, he started bleeding from the chest.

The shirt with the inscription of his inmate number got tainted with blood.

The mother noticed that her son had urinated on himself; she raised him and took him to the bedroom. There, she changed the lower part of his pyjamas.

The soldiers dissolved the firing squad.

The lieutenant ordered the doctor to certify the death.

The mother kissed him on his cheek and closed his eyes to sleep at last.

The doctor observed with astonishment the bundle lying on the floor, by the wall.

The criminal’s body had been reduced to a four year old.

What kind of Toastmasters is this?

The Irish are legendary by the amount of alcohol they can ingest. They hang out in the Pub until late, while their wives or partners wait for them at home. These often call the pubs to find out.

In a Dublin pub I saw the following notice:

… TELEPHONE ANSWERING CHARGES …

•        NOT HERE                     .50 €

•        JUST LEFT                     .75 €

•        ON HIS WAY                1.00 €

•        WHO?                          2.00 €

Mobile phones? No this was 1960, the year I went to Ireland, when I was seventeen.

I went to an Irish family home and a girl of that family would come to my home in Malaga. It was cheap, it was convenient and it was practical.

How to call that arrangement?

When I wrote to the Irish family, by hand, no Internet either, I searched the dictionary and I found a word that seemed perfect, because it sounded like international and course:

INTERCOURSE!

So I happily wrote to the Irish family saying that I wanted intercourse with one of their daughters.

With the English language you may commit terrible mistakes.

Things are easier today. You can find the exact meaning of the words if you Google them.

When I arrived to the family, the father,  Paddy, wanted to know about me, and asked if I had any “convictions”, to which I answered that, yes, I was a good Roman catholic.

But, actually, Paddy wanted to know if been in jail before.

Then, we began to speak about our respective countries.

We discussed that in Spain we have coined a term “mañana” which means that: the work may be done tomorrow, maybe the next day, maybe the next after that.

I asked Paddy if there was an equivalent Irish term and he told me: "No. In Ireland we don't have a word to describe that degree of urgency."

Altogether, I spent a month in Ireland. What did I learn?

Well, I learned 3 things.

1.Ireland is a very catholic country, where there is a catholic priest or nun for every 264 citizens.

2.I learned that the Irish drink a dark warm beer called Guinness “stout” in a long glass which they say it looks like a priest: a black body and a white collar.

I don’t know if there is something called a nun; a white body and a black veil on top. Perhaps some form of Irish coffee?

3. I learned the meaning of the word “toast” because that the Irish are, yes, catholic, but they spend far more time drinking beer and giving toasts in the pub than singing hymns in the church.

What takes me to the central point of my Speech: how we call Toastmasters to a place where there are no toasts and there is no beer.

To remedy that unlucky situation, I would now propose a toast to you.

With this “priest” of beer I say (pretending to hoist a glass of beer in my hand and looking a little drunk):

"May you never forget what is worth remembering, nor ever remember what is best forgotten."

Poor memory

I'm here to talk about a subject that for years was a real problem for me, but today, thanks to the latest technology, I have completely overcome.

I mean ... I have it written in the hand ..., bad memory.

I have it written here because it is the only way for me to remember. Before I had it written in a notebook...

I do not know what I did with it.

Now I write down everything on my body.

People think I have a tattoo on my arm, but once I wrote a shopping list there with a Rotring pen and it stayed there.

I am the only guy who has written on the biceps "chicken breast",

They wanted to charge me three thousand Euros to take it off, so I painted a heart around it and now I say that it was a girlfriend I had.

The blame for my poor memory lies on my mother who forced me to remember a lot of things and the result is that nothing more fits into my brain.

My mother would tell me:

- 'Son, go down and fetch the bread and, as you do, buy olives, tuna, milk and lettuce.

And, when leaving home house, you kept repeating:

-        "Bread, olives, tuna, milk and lettuce,

-        Bread, olives, tuna, milk and lettuce '...

And then you passed by a neighbour, and she said:

- "Hello, dear, how's your mother?

And you were repeating:

- "Bread, dear ... tuna ... Well, thank you.

- Bread .. olives

Shit.

But your mother never forgot. On seeing you arrive, she said

-        The lettuce is missing.

I think mothers have at least 5 Gigabytes of memory

My teachers wanted me to remember long lists of names like the tributaries of the Tagus: Jarama, Guadarrama, Guadiela.

Hallo dear, how is your mother? bread, lettuce, Jarama, Guadarrama, Guadiela

So, I am now a disaster for names.

I only learned my wife’s name after two years of marriage.

In the meantime, I kept on calling her "honey."

If I reserved at a restaurant, they would say:

- "Yes, I have a table for Pablo Gómez-Mora and honey."

If I was with her, and I met an old friend from college, it was hard to make the introductions:

-        "Honey, college roommate,

-        college roommate, honey."

Eventually she realized, of course. And she got angry:

-        "You do not know my name."

I said:

-        sure I know"

-        And what is it? '.

-        Eh ...".

Then I looked at my hand and climbed up the biceps to finally exclaim:

-        Chicken breast!"

And the dates, it’s better not to talk about, of course.

In general, men have a problem with dates.

If you ask a man when it is his wedding anniversary he would say:

- "These things are taken care of by my wife."

It's not our fault, we're not genetically prepared.

One day my wife told me:

-        "Do you know what day is tomorrow?".

And I said:

-        "What day is it today?”

-        "Tuesday."

-        "Well then tomorrow is Wednesday."

And she said,

-        "Yes, but what Wednesday?".

-        "Hey ..., is it Ash Wednesday?».

-        "It's my birthday."

-        "Honey, congratulations!

-        And how many..?

How angry she got! But she changes her age every year, so it is impossible to remember.

By the time I learned the birth date, she was 33, and the she goes, and turns 34.

I am now taking ginseng, which they say is good for ... memory.

It was recommended by my dermatologist, because if I keep writing things in my body, I will destroy my skin…

The problem is that I never remember if I took it.

The other day I had an overdose. I was quietly at home and, suddenly, I said to my wife:

-        Hey, chicken breast, now I remember!

- What?, she said

I replied:

-        Bread, olives, tuna, milk ... and lettuce! ».

And what is that?

The tributaries of the Tagus!

Oh, what a joy to have a garden!

Most people think that having a garden is a joy in the life of the gardener.

But, what does a garden do? To grow, develop and mature.

What the gardener does? To cut, trim and slash.

So I will divide you into two groups: growers and cutters.

You are the growers. What do the growers do? Say it with me

GROW, GROW, GROW

You are the cutters. What do the cutters do? Say it with me

CUT, CUT, CUT

So, you sit there pretty in your garden, watching the greenery and listening to the birds’ songs. From time to time, weather permitting; you make a casual dip into your swimming pool and go out to lie lazily in your hammock.

While you are listening to the birds and lying in your hammock, what the plants are doing?

GROW, GROW, GROW

You don’t notice it, but they are growing. Slowly, but steadily, they are growing. Yeah! Plants are intent in making your garden a chaotic jungle.

The tendency of things to a state of disorder is a natural law. And, yes, your garden tends to a state of chaos

Are you prepared to fight against it?

Are you prepared to fight against a gigantic producer of trash?

Yes?

Then, what do you do?

CUT, CUT, CUT

Unless you are prepared to spend a lot of money in gardeners, you should be conscious you’ll have to do the gardening yourself.

I am one of these people. I do the gardening myself.

My garden produces about 150 kg of thrash per week.

Yes, no kidding. 150 kg.

The two main culprits are mowing the lawn and trimming the hedge.

The lawn

They say that lawn requires a lot of water, most of it in the form of perspiration. It is fine to have lawn but, if you want it green, you have to water it, and if you water it, what does it?

GROW, GROW, GROW

and what you do?

CUT, CUT, CUT

Mowing the lawn is no small task. Here are the things you need

·        a lawn mower

·        a good supply of gigantic garbage bags

·        gasoline and oil

·        a handcart

·        two hours of hard work

What is the right time to mow the lawn? None, in the morning the grass is too wet, and in the afternoon the air it’s too warm.

The mower is a dangerous machine. You may hit a stone, and ruin the blade, or you may be dragged by the machine and fall or hit a branch with your head when you drive. You have to wear a hat, which limits your sight of overhead obstacles.

You also have to be careful with the insects, attracted by your sweating.

And the lawn has to be watered. Thinking of it is ridiculous, you spend a lot of water, watering you lawn for the lawn to

GROW, GROW, GROW

and a lot of effort to

CUT, CUT, CUT

The hedge

Trimming the hedge is no monkey business either. A common error is to cut the hedge too high not to see the stupid of your neighbour and his noisy friends. Cut the hedge too high and you will need a scaffold to get to get over it.

Unless you are a master drawer, chances are that your hedge is not uniform. In some places it will be thick, in others, thin. The horizontal line will not be level and the vertical either. So you

CUT, CUT, CUT

And the hedge has no uniform edges.

The electric trimming machine is utterly diabolic. The smallest thing that could happen is to cut the electric cord; the worst is to cut your own finger.

So, yes what a happy time, when I sat in my garden, the grass mown, the fence trimmed, the sprinklers working, and the swimming pool free of leaves and algae.

To conclude: gardening is cheaper than therapy and you get tomatoes.