Transitions from Infinite to Finite Games as Critical Moments

Scholars exploring intractable conflict often focus on how participants transition out of these costly stalemates into some form of communication that may lead to negotiation and conflict resolution. A good example is Pruitt’s (2011) article on how communication emerges as a preliminary step to negotiation in intractable conflict. Pruitt provides several examples of how leaders involved in difficult international conflicts orchestrate the communication process. He theorizes a three‐phase trend in which leaders first overtly signal their interest in communicating, then move to secret, back‐channel communication, and then finally back to overt communication in to begin negotiating.

During back‐channel communication parties meet informally, and often in secret, to promote both relational development and understanding of each side’s central concerns. These Track 2 diplomacy efforts are often called problem‐solving workshops, and were pioneered by Burton (1969) and Kelman (2002). According to Lieberfeld’s (2019) recent review, the transition from intractable conflict to negotiation often involves several preliminary steps, including the formal recognition of the legitimacy of the disenfranchised groups (e.g., rebels) as a signal of intent to settle. Lieberfeld cites Zartman’s (2000) ripeness theory to explain why some long‐standing violent political conflicts settle through negotiation. This theory proposes that when parties achieve a hurting stalemate they are more motivated to settle. Again, several factors may determine when the perception of that hurting stalemate might occur such as shifts in political or military power or changes in leadership.

The path from conflict to negotiation is not necessarily given, or clear to the parties involved. In fact, the intractable conflict literature describes many examples in which parties shift toward or away from negotiation as they continue to engage one another. The purpose of this article is to provide a much more micro communication analysis of how participants in conflict shift in and out of a settlement or negotiation frame. What is the nature of the shift or the critical moment when parties make, or even fail to make, moves toward a sustained period of negotiation? While previous research cited above focuses on the psychological precursors that may cause these shifts at a more macro level, this article will focus on the communication exchanges at a more microlevel that show how individuals signal their interest in moving away from conflict and more toward negotiation.

To deal with intractable conflicts, the real challenge is moving from a protracted, chaotic episode filled with personal attacks, venting, and perhaps violence to problem solving, where issues are discussed and negotiated. This article draws upon game theory to argue that this shift involves moving from an infinite game to a finite game. A review of the characteristics of these games as noted by Carse (1986) and from a more updated perspective by Sinek (2019) begins this discussion.

Finite games are played with a predetermined number of players with specific roles who are trying to win, or to achieve a specific objective within a clearly defined set of constitutive and regulative rules. The duration of finite games is limited by time or by the achievement of some specific objective, so when these limits are achieved the game ends. Baseball, basketball, and many other sports have time limitations, whereas chess is won by capturing the king. In contrast, infinite games have no specific objective. For example, “business” is an infinite game in which parties seek to expand their wealth. But this game has no specific outcome that ends the game. Individuals continue to play this game to expand their wealth until they arbitrarily decide not to continue.

Finite games are attractive to people because they are dramatic in the sense that there are winners and losers. The winners achieve a title that gives them power, and the more they win, the more powerful they become. According to Carse (1986), power is a concept that belongs only in finite play. He argues that power is never evident until two or more elements are in opposition, and parties resist one another in a closed field with finite time or specific objectives. As a result, one wins not by being powerful, but to become powerful.

In contrast, infinite players do not oppose one another, but initiate actions that cause others to respond with their own actions. Infinite games do not have specific oppositional moves but provide an infinite array of actions that may or may not follow the actions of others. Carse (1986) argues that whereas the finite player plays to become powerful the infinite player plays to achieve strength, not to settle an outcome, but to show he or she is strong. Strength is different than power in the sense that power is the outcome of winning, whereas strength is self‐improvement (e.g., getting richer, smarter, or more muscular). Athletes play the infinite games of practice and working out to get stronger so they can perform better. They play the game to become champions.

Finite games are governed by constitutive and regulative rules. Constitutive rules define the features of the games. These rules lay out the objective, how individuals score, the nature of the playing field, the number of players allowed, and other features of the game. Regulative rules define how to play the game fairly. When these rules are violated, a penalty is imposed on the offender and the game then continues. What is important to note is that these rules cannot be changed during the game. Individuals cannot decide during the game to change these rules because it then becomes a different game. It is easy to recall several sporting events when coaches determined that the referees were so bad at calling fouls that the coaches simply pulled their teams off the court and ended the game prematurely. The coaches believed that the referees changed the game from a finite to an infinite game because the rules changed.

In infinite games, there are often conventions that serve to both constitute and regulate games, but these conventions are, at best, only implicitly agreed upon by players, and can be altered at will. For example, the game of “business” is generally viewed as constituting the exchange of value of some sort, but beyond that, the rules are quite arbitrary. There are some laws that regulate fair business practices but these laws change regularly as new business practices arise that threaten the status quo. The games of “conflict” or “dating” are similarly ill‐defined, and conventions that make each of these games more or less recognizable as games change dramatically over time, as well.

In finite games, players must be volunteers in the sense that they freely agree to play the game; no one can be forced to play. Whoever must play cannot play a finite game. If individuals are coerced into participating in a finite game, then their intentions will not be focused on the game, but on their need to overcome the coercion. However, in infinite games, individuals are often forced into the game even though they may not realize they are playing the game. Individuals in relationships often become unwilling participants in the “conflict” game even though they may wish to drop out of the game and discontinue. The game moves in all kinds of unpredictable directions and even the nature of the game may change. The “teasing” game can quickly become the verbal conflict game, for example, and one player might not know that the game has actually changed.

The point is that finite games are a discrete act that individuals voluntarily play to achieve a specific goal. They freely opt in or out. However, life presents individuals with an infinite number of infinite games in which they are often unwilling participants. The games of “business,” or “raising a family,” or “performance appraisal” are all governed by conventions but are simply a part of participating in society. Some of these games are more well‐defined and conventionally recognizable, while others are more nebulous. Participating in some games is voluntary while not in others.

Sometimes an individual might seek to convert an infinite game into a finite game to achieve a specific objective within a more certain framework. Individuals often flip a coin to resolve a conflict, for example. As long as they agree that the coin is fair, and it is flipped fairly, then a specific winner and loser are determined and the game is over. Again, the finite game must be played according to the rules, but its value is that it is voluntary and eliminates the inherent ambiguity of the infinite game.

An important issue in the discussion of finite and infinite games is the problem of whether participants are defining their activity as a finite or infinite game. In his discussion of this topic, Sinek (2019) notes how the game of “war” has changed significantly over time. If war is defined as a finite game by participants, then “winning” is the goal. In times when winning a war was conceptualized as capturing the opponent’s flag (or capitol), and opponents agreed to specific regulative rules associated with the war (e.g., no poison gas, no mistreatment of prisoners) then war was viewed as a finite game. However, if war no longer has a specific objective in the sense that it is unclear what it means to win, and agreed‐upon rules for playing it are unclear, then it becomes an infinite game.

Sinek (2019) argues that the advantage always goes to players who believe they are playing an infinite game because they are not bound by the rules of a finite game. They are free to make up whatever rules or conventions they like to achieve an advantage of any kind. However, the side preparing for and conceptualizing the activity as a finite game of the same name is bound by specific rules. The game of “war” is a great example, because if one side believes that winning a war is possible, then they are playing a finite game. They may also believe that wars involve things like uniforms and battlefields and specific ways of fighting that are fair. The side who is not bound by any rules can simply ignore the need for uniforms and battlefields and the need to win anything. They see war as a game of inflicting damage on the opponent in whatever way possible with the ultimate objective of exhausting the enemy into withdrawal.

Since infinite games cannot be won in the finite sense, the only way they end is by one side dropping out or refusing to continue play. By viewing war as an infinite game, the participants’ goals revolve around getting the other side to simply tire of the game. That is likely to happen if the other side sees their activity as a finite game. The finite game players will see their activity as time or objective limited, since that is a key feature of finite games. When the objective becomes unclear or unattainable (e.g., the flag cannot be captured in war) then time becomes a salient factor for participants. They might ask if this finite game is taking longer than it should. If they believe it is taking longer than it should, then the will to continue playing will suffer.

Sometimes when individuals recognize that they are playing an infinite game they might choose to insert a finite game into the mix to add competitive interest or more certainty into the activity, or to become more powerful, as noted above. Carse (1986) suggests that finite games can be played within an infinite game, but an infinite game cannot be played within a finite game. For example, in the infinite game of “business” participants can create a finite game with specific rules and objectives, such as a sales contest. When the contest is over, the infinite game of business resumes. But inserting an infinite game inside a finite game simply ends the finite game because its insertion would violate the constitutive and regulative rules of the finite game. If parties choose to end the infinite game by playing another finite game at some point, then that finite game simply becomes a new game.

Finally, infinite games treat time differently. Infinite players are not governed by the past in determining their present or future because every activity simply changes the nature of what they are doing going forward. If others participate in the infinite game then they get to define what they are doing, and as a result, perhaps redefine their view of the past. For example, individuals engaged in conflict may define what they are doing as a conflict, but then resort to decision making and look back on the conflict not as conflict but as part of the decision‐making process. Inasmuch as the present and future are always becoming something else in an infinite game, individuals’ perceptions of the past activity are always changing and being redefined, as well. Again, the lack of rules and specific objectives makes it difficult to connect the past and present in a concrete manner.

In finite games, the past is very important because it determines the future. A team’s record determines their ability to get in the playoffs, for example. A history of discrete games is viable because the rules these games were played under are well‐known and consistent with the present. Sports fans often refer to past games or championships and they might even become part of a community’s culture. Certainly, wars fought under discrete game conditions are remembered and enshrined for centuries. But infinite wars are often forgotten because there was no outcome that defined a winner and conferred power to their community.

To the extent that negotiation is governed by: (a) a predetermined set of constitutive and regulative rules that cannot change in the course of the activity, (b) parties who have agreed to engage in it voluntarily, and (c) a specific outcome that determines the end of the game that parties are pursuing in good faith, then it can be considered a finite game. Many formal negotiations such as trade talks between management and unions, or court‐mandated negotiations, generally meet these criteria. It is likely that individuals may participate in negotiations that fail to meet these criteria, but they are probably engaging in something that more likely resembles an infinite game, like “preliminary discussions,” “conversations,” or “trial‐balloon talks,” for example.

In fact, it is probably the case that most finite negotiation games are preceded by these kinds of infinite games as parties simply try to get to know one another, explore issues, and establish productive relationships. Or, parties might be emerging from the infinite game of an intractable conflict in which they have suddenly realized that this activity is producing a mutually hurting stalemate that must be addressed. To illustrate, Daniel Druckman (1986, 2001) demonstrates how negotiators might benefit from shifting out of the rule‐driven, finite negotiation game when the talks get bogged down in mutual recriminations. This shift sends the negotiation in a different direction by pursuing such infinite games as relationship building or consultations with policy makers or third parties. In other words, parties might shift in and out of finite and infinite games depending on what is needed to make progress toward a mutually beneficial outcome.

On occasion, parties might also alter the rules of a finite game to make it more interesting to them. For example, imagine tennis players only playing competitive points, but not counting the accumulation of games that would define a winner or loser for the match. Since no one wins or loses the match, parties can satisfy their need for competition without compromising their personal relationship. It is a finite game (each point is won or lost using the rules of tennis) within an infinite game of using tennis to get some exercise.

This article will focus on the transition from some infinite game to the finite negotiation game to understand how such transitions evolve. As Druckman’s (1986, 2001) work illustrates, individuals also make the opposite transition out of a finite game into an infinite game. For the sake of theoretical development, this article will focus only on the transition into the finite negotiation game. This critical moment is important because staying in some infinite game does not afford parties the opportunity to provide a structured, rules‐based framework for producing a finite outcome. Once parties commit to the negotiation as a finite game they have a chance of continuing forward toward a specific outcome. Staying in the infinite game does not provide this opportunity.

The question is, how does this transition, or critical moment occur or fail to occur in the course of an infinite game? To help answer this question, this article will provide two examples aimed at illustrating both an unsuccessful and a successful transition from an infinite to a finite game. The unsuccessful example is from the Branch Davidian negotiations between the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) and the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms (ATF) and David Koresh that occurred in 1993 in Waco, Texas. These negotiations preceded the tragic fire 51 days later that killed Koresh and 78 of his followers who remained in the building. The FBI wanted to convert the conversation into a negotiation to secure the release of hostages but Koresh was unwilling to make that switch and negotiate. The second example is from an actual divorce mediation transcript in which a couple is negotiating child visitation issues with the aid of a mediator. This mediation was successful in that the parties reached an agreement during the interaction. Both examples provide insight into what critical moments look like in making the transition from an infinite to a finite game.

In general, it is useful to identify the kinds of communication features that might signal critical moments that can set the stage for converting from an infinite game aimed at continuing the conflict to a finite game of dispute resolution. For example, Zartman’s (2000) ripeness concept is aimed at identifying the point at which the conflict becomes a hurting stalemate or presents a compelling opportunity to convert. However, achieving this goal requires some message features that begin to signal the shift:

• 1.

  Discontinuing the identity‐based conflict and promoting more casual conversation that enables parties to focus on relationship development

Work by William Donohue (2011) discusses how identity‐based conflict can become a trap that escalates a progression toward violence that serves to address the identity needs of the individuals involved in the interaction. As these attacks decline, the individuals signal a desire to become more problem‐focused.

• 2.

  Raising topics that signal a shift, or agreeing to work with a third party who can begin these conversations

Bercovitch and Gartner’s (2006) article on international conflict and mediation provides examples of how leaders are able to shift away from intractable conflicts and toward substantive negotiations by raising topics that signal greater cooperation. Donohue (1991) provides a more micro understanding of these topical shifts in divorce mediation.

• 3.

  Redefining the relationship from adversaries to decision makers, and using more cooperative, lower‐power language

Coleman (2014) talks about how power communicated through language and various other forms enables parties to either escalate conflict or move toward conflict resolution.

• 4.

  Achieving positive frame synchrony in which individuals use the same language to conceptualize the issues

In the context of divorce mediation, Donohue, Sherry, and Idzik (2016) revealed the importance of positive frame synchrony as individuals create a tacit consensus on how to discuss their issues. Greater synchrony in this context produces more viable agreements. However, when the frame synchrony is negative in the sense that parties reciprocate dysfunctional acts such as unremitting mutual recriminations, enduring rivalries can result (see e.g., Goertz and Diehl 1993). Thus, positive frame synchrony can start to signal a shift from some infinite game to the finite negotiation game.

In other words, is it possible to focus on the communication symbols that signal a shift and the ability to be open to change? One example of the lack of shift is the negotiation between the FBI/ATF and David Koresh in the Waco disaster of 1993. Here is a sample transcript from April 18 between FBI agent Henry Garcia and David Koresh:

In this example, Koresh opens the conversation by asking what the FBI agent wants, which appears to signal a desire to negotiate and transform the conversation to a finite negotiation game. The FBI agent responds by indicating that he wants everyone to come out. Then, Koresh moves completely away from that specific request and starts defending his face. In other words, the identity defensiveness continues throughout the example making it clear that Koresh wants to continue the infinite game. In addition, the FBI is never able to alter the power dynamic to become more equal in terms of decision making. Koresh remains firmly in control of the topics as evidenced by the FBI continuing to only respond to him as opposed to raising and sustaining topics and issues of their choosing. Also, a lack of synchrony is evidenced in other features of the language. Koresh’s talking turns are much longer and the language he uses is much more intense than the FBI’s language. A lack of synchrony throughout the interaction makes the shift to negotiation much more distant.

The achievement of a shift during the course of infinite play is the triumph of the future over the past. Since infinite players do not regard the past as determining the present or the future, they have no way of building on the past toward some specific goal. When a shift is made toward a finite game through some signal, it presents a surprise or critical moment. That surprise can reveal a new beginning because it builds on the dysfunctional quality of the past and makes the future more predictable in the process. Koresh never allows that to happen and the FBI is unable to drive the interaction toward that critical moment.

Contrast the Koresh example with a sample from a divorce mediation session. In this session, the parties exchange many personally threatening comments, which is very characteristic of an infinite conflict game. Then, the mediator becomes more active and begins talking about the need to craft an agreement to stay out of court. The following exchange illustrates the shift from a personal confrontation to a problem‐solving context:

Once the mediator takes charge, the parties give tacit permission to move toward the finite game of negotiation. Offers and counteroffers are provided and ultimately a deal is struck. This example illustrates several of the communication shifts not present in the Koresh example. In her first and second intervention, the mediator seeks to put a stop to the identity attacks, and is fairly successful in shifting the interaction back to the resolution of specific issues. In a sense, the mediator pulls the parties out of their identity trap and into the more finite game of negotiation. This critical intervention also successfully works to temporarily redefine the relationship from adversaries to decision makers, which then makes the language synchronize more effectively. The parties start synchronizing around the future rather than the past.

The point of this analysis is recognizing that negotiations are not necessarily discrete acts that exist in isolation. Many negotiations emerge out of unstructured episodes when disputants start to signal that negotiating offers a viable alternative to the infinite game of conflict. Most negotiation scholars choose to focus only on the negotiation game itself, but fail to explore its precursor, the conflict episode, and how the negotiation emerged from it. What are these shifts and how are they made in actual conflict situations? While Pruitt (2011) talks about why individuals might choose to select negotiation as a viable alternative to conflict, it is instructive to take a communication approach to this issue and explore how the transitions or critical moments emerge or fail to emerge. To accomplish this goal, it is useful to review the features of finite and infinite games discussed above that are illustrated in these two transcripts.

The first distinguishing feature of finite games relates to the ability to create specific objectives. Notice that in the first example Koresh is unable to sustain a focus on any particular topic. A look at the entire transcript reinforces this topical shifting. It was clear that the FBI was constantly trying to move the conversation toward negotiation and focus on the specific objective of releasing the hostages. But Koresh kept moving the conversation in many different directions, many of which were biblically based. At one point, the FBI brought in biblical scholars to try and synchronize topics, but that failed, as well.

An interesting research study might focus on when and how to push for focusing on a specific objective of some type. Notice that in the mediation example, the mediator had the power, as a court‐appointed official, to chide the husband and wife for their inability to focus on the future. That tactic worked to help the couple focus on the negotiation process and craft a deal. However, the FBI repeatedly pushed for pursuing a specific objective, all of which were rebuffed. What factors might contribute to the ability of each side to pursue negotiation? Carse’s (1986) insight is a useful guide here. He argues that the infinite player plays to achieve strength, not to settle an outcome, but to show that he or she is strong. Would Koresh have had to give up his identity as a strong leader to agree to negotiate? Perhaps face support strategies might have induced Koresh to convert to negotiation since his leadership identity was apparently very salient to him.

The issue of rules plays a significant role in the transition from the infinite game of conflict to the finite game of negotiation. Finite games are very confining. They require that participants restrict what they can do. As we know from Carse (1986), the incentive to play them is the acquisition of power or to be champion. For Koresh, the price of converting to a finite game was apparently too high because the rules were too restrictive. A more restrictive set of rules would have required Koresh to pursue topics consistent with negotiating a peaceful resolution. Unfortunately, Koresh chose to pontificate to promote his strength as a religious leader rather than to focus on problem solving. On the contrary, the divorcing couple was more interested in settling by adhering to the rules. A key question for research is how to establish rules in the course of an infinite conflict game so that parties can begin to problem solve. Mediators often begin their sessions with very specific communication ground rules that parties must accept before they can continue. Is it important to first establish something of value that each party desires before they can first agree to operate within a set of rules? Perhaps Lax and Sebenius' (1986) idea of creating value should precede the commitment to engage in negotiation. The FBI was unable to access any value for Koresh in their interactions and the results were catastrophic.

The issue of participation is interesting as an important differentiator between finite and infinite games. Participation in finite games is voluntary in the sense that no one can be coerced into playing. If coercion does occur, then the game is something other than the named contest because coercion places the intentions of the participants at risk. For example, forcing parties to a bargaining table makes it difficult to determine if the parties are bargaining to actually solve the joint problem before them or using the bargaining episode for some other purpose. Even if the FBI had succeed in coercing Koresh into a negotiation game it would be difficult to determine if he were using the game to simply further his other goals.

The key in shifting from an infinite conflict game to a finite negotiation game is persuasion rather than coercion. Persuasion involves converting someone’s desire to freely participate. This attitude shift increases the likelihood that the participants will share a common objective. For example, is it possible that the mediator’s intervention in the divorce negotiations asking the parties to focus on the future changed their attitudes about the importance of sharing a common objective? “So we can talk we can sit here and we can talk about all the lousy yesterdays or we can think about better tomorrows that you might have.” That they were able to sustain a negotiation and come to an agreement is some evidence of that shift. It is unclear if the agreement lasted beyond the negotiation table, but at least at that moment they shared a common objective.

A significant issue in any negotiation is the good‐faith intention of the participants. In hostage negotiations, the police prefer only to negotiate with the hostage takers after they have the scene contained, so that the only way out is through the negotiation process. Certainly, this situation is coercive in that the hostage takers are forced into discussions. However, actual negotiations can only begin when the hostage takers are persuaded to show good faith and begin a tangible bargaining process (Donohue et al. 1991).

Another issue that is relevant in understanding these two examples is the issue of game inconsistency. If one player believes the game is finite and the other is playing an infinite game, the advantage goes to the infinite player because the infinite player is not constrained by any specific rules, while the other party believes clear constraints exist. This was certainly the case with the Koresh conversations. Koresh’s resistance to engage in any kind of negotiation was clearly apparent throughout the transcript. More importantly, he threw up smokescreen after smokescreen to FBI negotiators talking about all kinds of things—basically giving sermons to them. It is easy to imagine the frustration the FBI negotiators were experiencing trying to find an edge that would enable them to connect with Koresh any way possible. While this is typical of early stages in hostage negotiation, latter stages usually prove more productive in parties playing the same negotiation game.

The mediation example shows how quickly deals can come together when parties agree to play the same game. It took only a few utterances for the parties to begin working constructively in the same direction. In other mediation transcripts, the same pattern emerges in the agreement transcripts (Donohue 1991). In agreement transcripts, parties typically use the opening interactions to deride one another or their positions on issues. At some point, the mediator persuades parties to consider the best interests of the child and work toward a constructive outcome. Parties are persuaded to take the advice and move in that direction.

In the no‐agreement transcripts, the parties often overwhelm the mediator with face attacks and insults to reenact crippling disagreements from times past. Both parties are consistent in playing the infinite conflict game while the mediator is trying to move them toward a finite negotiation game. It is interesting to observe episodes in many transcripts in which the mediator successfully engages parties in their relational issues and tries to work through them. This synchrony builds mediator credibility that enables the mediator to then persuade parties to move ultimately to resolving substantive issues.

Also interesting to observe in these transcripts is how time is impacted in the playing of infinite games. These games, as noted above, are not constrained by time. And parties playing them will typically go on and on if enabled to do so. Since Koresh was playing the infinite conflict game with the FBI he felt no need to restrain his performance. He went on and on for over a month, much to the frustration of the FBI, who wanted to play the finite negotiation game. As a result, the FBI wanted to speed up the process, particularly since they were operating under the assumption that negotiations should not take this long. And since they sold the media the idea that these were negotiations, everyone was expecting and planning for a limited engagement. As time dragged on, the FBI became more and more desperate to conclude the engagement, which they did toward the end of the month by ramming the building, which resulted in explosions and an all‐consuming fire.

Time expectations play an important role in any finite game, and they likely impact participants’ strategies and tactics. Perhaps these same expectations were driving the mediator’s interventions in trying to negotiate the visitation agreement with the divorcing couple. Generally, mediation sessions last for only 2 to 3 hours so mediators are often time limited in their work. When they approach their activity they are trained to keep disputants on track and moving toward settlement. If they allow unfiltered attacks, they enable parties to play an infinite conflict game that stands little chance of moving toward agreement because of the time limitations. For research purposes, it would be useful to determine the extent to which perceptions of time and expectations of the time limits for negotiation impacts the ability to reach agreements. Is there an advantage for negotiators who feel more time constraints and define the interaction more as a finite game than negotiators who assume fewer time constraints in the context of an infinite game?

The purpose of this article is to begin a conversation about understanding what drives the critical moments in the shift from the infinite conflict game to the finite negotiation game. Perhaps the most important implication of this analysis is it begins to open up a variety of issues that negotiation researchers have not traditionally explored. Most importantly is understanding more about how parties move from an infinite conflict game to a finite negotiation game. What are the conditions that facilitate the shift? What role does topic synchrony play in forming the critical moment of transition? What kind of relational shifts are likely to create the appropriate context to build toward a critical moment in terms of greater expressions of affiliation and trust, for example?

Methodologically, exploring these shifts may best be accomplished, at least initially, by examining actual conflict interactions that ultimately evolve into negotiations. These provide a more externally valid discovery context for first understanding how these transitions evolve. Experimental research could then manipulate several of these parameters to examine their impact on the extent to which individuals are willing to shift to negotiation. For example, an experiment might place individuals in a conflict scenario by discussing a controversial topic upon which they do not agree. Then, they would be given a task that would tacitly ask them to shift to a finite decision‐making game to generate an outcome. Manipulations might include levels of trust or affiliation, specificity of task goals, and time to problem solve. Dependent measures could focus on task completion and measures of outcome quality. Work is continuing on these research opportunities.