3 Ways ‘Game Theory’ Could Benefit Us At Work, By A Psychologist

It’s important to be aware of how our choices affect others and how theirs affect ours, but it’s also dangerously easy for that awareness to tip over into an unproductive state of hyperawareness.

Game theory is a legitimately powerful lens — but like any lens, it should be used sparingly and with the right intentions. Pick your battles, and if you’re curious how to apply it in your own career, start with clarity, empathy and a telescope and compass. Use these not to dominate the game, but to understand it and play it to the best of your abilities, so everyone wins.

”Work smarter, not harder” makes sense at first glance — but in elite professional environments, it’s a rather reductive and presumptuous approach.

The phrase can carry the implication that others aren’t working smart or that they aren’t capable of working smart. But in high-performing teams, where stakes are real and decisions have impact, most people are smart. Most are optimizers. And that means “working smart” will only take you so far before everyone’s doing the same. After that, the only edge left is consistent, high-quality production — what we generalize as hard work.

From a game theory lens, this type of hard work essentially increases your odds. Overdelivering, consistently and visibly, skews the probability curve in your favor. You either become impossible to ignore, or highly valuable. Ideally, aim for both.

And here’s where the real move comes in: assume the same of others. In most multiplayer games, especially online ones, expecting competence from your opponents forces you to play better. It raises the floor of your expectations, improves collaboration and protects you from the trap of underestimating the consequences of your actions.

If you can identify aspects of your work that you uniquely enjoy — and that others may see as tedious, difficult or draining — you may have found an edge. Because in competitive environments, advantage is often about doing the same amount with less psychological cost.

In game theory terms, you’re exploiting an asymmetric payoff structure, where your internal reward is higher than that of your peers for the same action. When others see effort, you feel flow. That makes you highly resilient and harder to outlast.

It’s also how you avoid falling into the trap of accepting a Nash equilibrium. This is a state where each person settles on a strategy that feels rational given everyone else’s, even if the group as a whole is stuck in mediocrity. No one deviates, because no one has an incentive to, unless someone changes the underlying payoff structure.

Now, imagine a team project where everyone quietly agrees to put in just enough effort to get by, no more, no less. It feels fair, and no one wants to overextend.

But if even one person realizes they could stand to gain by going above that baseline, they have an incentive to break the agreement. The moment they do, the equilibrium collapses, because now others are pressured to step up or risk falling behind.

In a true equilibrium, each person’s strategy is the best possible response to what everyone else is doing. No one gains by changing course. However, when your internal motivation shifts the reward equation, you may begin to question the basis of the equilibrium itself.

All this is why the advice to “follow your passion” often misfires. Unless there’s a clear definition of what constitutes passion, the advice lands as too vague. A more precise version is this: find and hone a valuable skill that energizes you, but might drain most others.

There’s a certain kind of professional who doesn’t chase money for money’s sake. Maybe he writes code for a game studio as a day job, writes blogs on the side and even mentors high school kids on their computer science projects. But this isn’t so much about padding his lifestyle or building a mountain of cash.

What he’s really doing is looking for games: intellectually engaging challenges, satisfying loops and rewarding feedback. In a sense, he’s always gaming, not because he’s avoiding work, but because he’s designed his life around what feels like play.

This mindset flips the usual money narrative on its head. And ironically, that’s often what leads to sustainable financial success: finding personal fulfillment that makes consistent effort easier for you and everyone around you.

This is a self-reinforcing loop: the more the game rewards you internally, the less you need external motivation to keep showing up.

So instead of asking, “What’s the highest-paying path?” — ask, “Which games would I play even if I didn’t have to?” Then, work backward to find ways to monetize them.

This does two incredibly valuable things in tandem: It respects the system you’re in, and it respects the goals you personally hold dear.