Chicken

Two equilibria, both lopsided: one side concedes and the other does not. No dominant move.

The absence of a dominant strategy changes the character of the whole situation. Because the outcome hinges on belief, the payoff to visible irrationality is positive — a reputation for never swerving is a real asset here, which is a genuinely dangerous property for a shape that shows up in strikes, price wars, budget stand-offs and nuclear posture. Note the asymmetry of the equilibria: both stable outcomes have a winner and a loser, so the pressure is not toward a fair split but toward establishing who concedes.

How it feels

• The phrase 'we cannot be seen to back down' is being used sincerely.
• Both sides are performing for an audience rather than talking to each other.
• Somebody is making their own position deliberately harder to reverse.
• The disaster if nobody moves is worse than simply losing would be.

Who is playing

The two antagonists — plus the audience, which is nearly always the decisive player and nearly always left off the list. Chicken is played in public for a reason: the cost of backing down is a reputational cost, and reputation requires spectators.

Where it lands

One side concedes and is seen to concede — or, when both have committed too publicly to move, the crash that neither wanted.

What moves it

Introduce a mediator, a phased de-escalation, or a technicality that lets both sides claim they did not concede. Alternatively change the payoffs so waiting is no longer a loss. And notice if you are building a reputation for never swerving — it wins the round and makes every future round more dangerous.

Not to be confused with

Nearly every misread in practice is a shape mistaken for its neighbour — and each of those mistakes points you at the wrong fix.

Where you have already met it