billions and billions.

Everything morally right derives from one of four sources: it concerns either full perception or intelligent development of what is true; or the preservation of organized society, where every man is rendered his due and all obligations are faithfully discharged; or the greatness and strength of a noble, invincible spirit; or order and moderation in everything said and done , whereby temperance and self-control.

~ Cicero, De Officiis, I, 5 (45-44 BC)

(This is from a conversation had late a while back in which I could not articulate very well and so I am finally getting to writing the thoughts out that I could not seem to come up with at that time).

We take for granted the fact that our civilization lives by a set of rules. More so, moral codes, which beg the questions: what does it mean to do the right thing? Should we help a stranger in need? How do we deal with someone who is not very nice to us? Should we ever exploit someone who treats us kindly? If hurt by a friend or helped by an enemy, should we repay in kind or does any past behaviour outweigh recent departures from the status quo?

We probably come across these questions – or forms of them – much more often than we might initially think. Human behaviour is complex, so are there any hard and fast rules in which to apply to any of these scenarios? Of course not, because of our complexity. So then, how do we decide what to do? Knowing how to behave is a part of being wise.

Over the course of human history, we have devised a set of rules in which to apply. Each one varies rather significantly, and it is only recently that we have attempted – scientifically, anyway – to show which one or ones works most often. Granted, this is not an exact science.

The first rule is often termed the Golden Rule, and is this: do unto others as you would have them do unto you. That probably sounds familiar. We all know that rule. None of us actually follows it. Or at least hardly any of us. Why don't we follow this simple and enlightened rule? Because it does not take into account any of our differences and ultimately it is a losing proposition (keep reading, or not .... )

So we devised a Silver Rule, which is: do not do unto others what you would not have them do unto you. Two notable examples of followers of this rule are of course Ghandi and MLK, Jr. It was their mission to tell others not to repay violence with violence, but not to be compliant either. For their followers to show, through civil disobedience, their defiance to a certain law or injustice. But even Ghandi admitted that "I have not the qualifications for teaching my philosophy of life. I have barely the qualifications for practicing the philosophy I believe. I am but a poor struggling soul yearning to be wholly truthful and wholly nonviolent in thought, word and deed, but ever failing to reach the ideal."

So we devised a Brass Rule, which is: do unto others as they do unto you. "Repay kindness with kindness, but evil with justice," said Confucius. Put another way, it says "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." This is the most common human behaviour, whether or not we want to admit it. But is it true or not that two wrongs do not make a right?

So we devised the Iron Rule, which is: do unto others as you like, before they do it unto you. This rule is one often followed by (surprise!) those in power, as it seems to openly shun the Golden Rule. There are far too many examples of this behaviour found throughout our all-too-short history.

So that begs the question: which one is right? Is the most commonly-followed rule the most flawed? It can be easily discerned that the Brass Rule can perpetuate many, many atrocities – both on a small scale as well as a global scale. The Iron Rule seems to promote the advantage of a ruthless and powerful few against the interests of everyone else. But on the other hand, aren't the Golden and Silver Rules, well, too nice because they do not punish cruelty and exploitation of others? So is any of them right all of the time, or must we always analyze a situation before applying a rule to its outcome?

Like I mentioned, we have just recently begun to study this from a scientific perspective. We are used to playing games where one person wins and everyone else loses. It's natural. We grew up learning these games. In these kinds of games, the losses end up balancing out the wins so they are known as "zero-sum" games. There's no grey area – your opponent will do everything in their power to beat you (assumingly within the rules of the game). Take Monopoly, for example – there is no way to play that game cooperatively for the betterment of all. Sounds ridiculous, right? That's not how it is designed. Someone – just one – always wins. So the only rule that we have defined above that applies to these zero-sum games is the Iron Rule. So that begs the question now, that if the Golden (or even the Silver) Rule is so highly revered, why is it rarely practiced?

However, there are different games – or scenarios. Take the ravaging of the environment, for example. Does one side win by doing this? Of course not, we both lose – us and it. And on the flip-side, what about giving to someone in need? We feel good and those we gave too do as well – this is win-win.

So there are three different scenarios then in which we can apply our four rules. The scientific field that deals with experimenting with the outcomes by applying different rules (or strategies) is known as game theory, and it is used in many different fields (from playing the stock market to military exploits and so forth). The paradigm is a game called the Prisoner's Dilemma (the funny thing is I had a very wise assistant principal in junior high who applied this fascinating theory on my good friend and me – I will not divulge our crime). It is not at all a zero-sum game, as all three scenarios are possible when played out. It works like this: suppose you and a friend are arrested for committing a crime of some sort. It does not matter if either, neither or both of you are guilty. What matters only is that the police (or, um, your vice principal) thinks you did it. And before the two of you can get your stories straight (exactly!), you are interrogated separately (genius, that Mr. Lacey).

So what happens? Well, the police of course tell you that your friend has confessed and implicated you. They may or may not be telling the truth. You can of course only plead innocent or guilty (claiming "I don't know" does not really work here). So, what do you do? You think quickly of the outcomes:

1) You deny everything and so does your friend (although you don't know that they have) so the case is hard to prove and you both get off.

2) You confess and so does your friend, so the case is easy to prove and you both get a light sentence but neither of you are off scott-free.

3) You plead innocent but your friend confesses, so he gets off with a lighter punishment and you get raked over the coals (this is of course called a double-cross). And then you're grounded for I cannot remember how long. Uh, nevermind.

So if you both cooperate – meaning you either both confess or deny – you both escape the worst. So should you play it safe and guarantee a middle-of-the-road punishment by confessing? Too bad for your friend if he pleads innocent, right? Uh, sorry Jim. When you have had a minute to think about it and you're not some scheming little seventh grader, you realize that whatever your friend does you're better off defecting (doing the opposite) than cooperating (doing the same). Um, but of course the same holds true for them. But, um, if you both defect you're both worse off than had you both cooperated. This is the dilemma ....

Once you've sorted that out, consider if you will a repeated Prisoner's Dilemma where you go through a sequence of these games. Kind of like what we do subconsciously (or consciously) on a daily basis when faced with a situation in which we must decide for ourselves what is the "right" thing to do. And this of course happens over time – the whole of human history, say. Will the two people learn to cooperate game after game, both always denying or admitting their guilt? What if you cooperate too much, will your friend exploit your vulnerability? But if you defect too much, won't your friend end up defecting as much, which is bad for both of you? What is the right mix of defection vs. cooperation?

This has been studied of course over time, and the simplest strategies are thus to either always cooperate, no matter how much advantage is taken of you, or always defect, no matter the fact that there are benefits to cooperating. These are the Golden and Iron Rules, respectively. The key that can be discerned here is that they always lose (in the sense of the resulting punishment over time), the one from always being nice, the other from always being ruthless. So should you defect at first, but if your friend (or opponent) cooperates just once, then you cooperate in all future games? Or do the opposite? Well, those also lose because, unlike in zero-sum games, you cannot rely on your opponent to be always out to get you (unless perhaps they are some sort of sociopath).

So the answer is (this is probably a pretty long post so if you've made it this far props) .... it's simple: "quid pro quo." Meaning, in the effort of goodwill you start out cooperating, and in each successive round you just do what your friend did the last round. You punish a defection by defecting, but once they cooperate, you're willing to let that be water under the bridge and you move on back to cooperating. As time goes on and the game is repeated ad infinitum (and other strategies have defeated themselves from being too kind or too mean) you pull ahead and you're only grounded for an afternoon or so. So what rule does this equate (which is ultimately the answer, I think)?

Wait for it .... the Brass Rule (which, since it's way back up there, is "do unto others as they do unto you").

This is a surprisingly simple game, as it must be in order to test the different theories. Real life is of course much more complex. So what does this mean? Do random acts of kindness – if widespread – improve us all? So it would seem. It also seems the lessons learned from this dilemma are ones about the self-defeating nature of envy, and perhaps of the importance of long-term vs. short term goals (the winning strategy does not appear to win at first, but only over time does it prove to do so). I find it extremely interesting.

No wonder I had a hard time recounting that off the top of my head at one o'clock in the morning.