The Existential Poker Player

Existentialism – A 20th century philosophy that views the individual as being unique and alone in an indifferent and even hostile universe.

- The American Heritage Dictionary

Poker is widely perceived as a social game, but that's not really true. At its core, poker is a game of solitude. It isolates us. It coerces detachment from the vexing issues of the outside world. For some people, especially recreational players, this is a good thing. Poker is a healthy diversion from reality. For others, poker is reality. It's a profession. For others still, poker is a vice. It serves as a refuge, masking personal problems beneath an endless stream of cards and chips.

Most full-time pros and even many serious novices spend more time inside cardrooms than any other place except their homes. Days and nights are consumed within the mental and physical confines of the poker table. The cardroom serves a multifunctional purpose for these individuals. It becomes the place of both work and leisure. Sometimes, it's difficult to distinguish between the two. The longer we play poker and the more we frequent public cardrooms, the more affected we are by poker's powerful influences. Poker's insulation from ordinary life gradually modifies our sense of identity and ultimately molds every one of us – from all walks of life, from all social classes, and of all races – into a definitive subculture with similar personality traits. In short, the more time we spend together inside poker rooms, the more alike we become.

The rigors of poker's circumscribed lifestyle inevitably lead to defining characteristics that distinguish poker players as a social class. Just as other professions and social activities conjure up unique characteristics within their constituents – such as musicians, dancers, doctors, military officers, librarians, construction workers, and so forth (each brings specific images to mind) – poker players share a similar set of human qualities. The question is, what are some of the personal characteristics that define poker players as a group? I shall attempt to address this question within specific answers in this column.

It is widely believed within poker circles that smart people make better poker players. But the fact is – little or no correlation seems to exist between intelligence (measured by IQ) and poker skill. Personal discipline, playing experience, and natural instincts seem to play a far more important role in determining success as a poker player. There is certainly no link between formal education and poker excellence. As proof, the vast majority of the world's top poker players – in both tournament and live-action play – have little or no advanced formal education. Poker's upper ranks are filled with college dropouts and players who never went beyond a high school education. I don't mean to suggest that low or average intelligence is a virtue in the poker world – only that intelligence does not guarantee nor necessarily bring about success.

So, why does a high school dropout occasionally beat the "smarter" player with an advanced degree and many years of experience applying critical thinking? No doubt, the educated player thinks logically, reads textbooks on poker, and has a genuine understanding of the game. Why, then, is he sometimes the big loser in a game made up of players who have a poor command of the English language, and who probably couldn't tell the difference between Anna Karenina and Anna Kournikova?

The answer lies in conditioning. The mind and body of the seasoned poker veteran have been well conditioned to the unique whirlwind of influences inside the poker room. In short, he is immune from its negative influences to a greater extent – personal distractions, going on tilt, playing for ego, playing hands due to boredom, and all the other damaging behaviors that incite losses. He understands that winning poker is time-consuming and requires deep concentration. While countless years of sitting in poker rooms may take their toll on the player's worldly edification, they have prepared him superbly for a multitude of situations (strategic and otherwise) that are certain to appear in a poker game.

However, these character traits that serve poker players well in game conditions infringe upon and ultimately transform our humanity. I first became aware of this many years ago when my wife began to point out changes in my personality that took place over an extended period of time. These changes became more prominent as my involvement in poker increased. For instance, after road trips with extensive poker playing (sometimes weeks at a time), I tended to be more aggressive with people at home in the days and weeks that followed. In conversations, I wanted direct, to-the-point answers. My impatience with other people – both in person and on the telephone – increased. I wanted immediate results. This served me well to a certain extent, as I had a clearer sense of vision and demanded results to my satisfaction. It also helped me deal with adversity. There was no reason to get upset about the little things in life. Poker had, in a sense, immunized me from the common emotional responses to misfortune.

Based on my experiences and connections to poker players from many walks of life, I conclude that most poker players share a definitive set of characteristics. These characteristics include (but are not limited to):

Assertiveness – Poker players usually know exactly what they want, and they go after it. I've heard numerous stories of players who acted on impulse – whether it was taking a vacation, buying a new car, making a career change, or pursuing a romantic interest. Poker players are accustomed to using every possible means at their disposal to win a pot. We think, then we act. We tend to pursue our passions with equal vigor.

Impatience – Poker players tend to be more impatient than nonplayers when away from the game. Inside cardrooms, we see the consequences of our actions almost immediately, since most hands take no more than a few minutes to reach a conclusion. We are accustomed to quick service from dealers and cooperation from floorpeople. But casinos operate on one time clock, while the outside world has another – which seems much slower and is more subject to interruption. Decisions made outside poker rooms almost always take more time. We tend to be intolerant toward others who are incapable of making decisions quickly. We have greater difficulty coping with uncertainty.

Rationality – Poker players are more logical in their thought processes. We trace our table decisions to a logical, systematic, and even somewhat predictable course of events that justifies our presence in a poker game. Even when we lose, we are able to form an objective opinion about our table decisions and the way we played – which may or may not have contributed to the final outcome. Accordingly, we are more apt to recognize illogical patterns and predict results with greater certainty. When we see irrational behavior in ordinary life, we are quick to notice. What poker player hasn't thought of ways to make government or a business run more efficiently? The fact is, we see better ways of doing things – whether it's with pizza delivery, traffic congestion, or running the local post office – because we are constantly forced to apply principles of logic that the general population is not subject to.

Decisiveness – Poker players are forced to be decisive by the very nature of the game. We usually have only a few seconds to make decisions that may involve hundreds or even thousands of dollars. We gather evidence quickly and make the best possible decision we can based on the circumstances. It's not always the right decision, of course, but it's one we learn to accept and live with. Most poker players are just as decisive away from the table – in their business dealings, personal relationships, and other activities. This probably means that we also tend to be more stubborn than nonplayers, since it's hard to change a lifetime of habits.

Willingness to Assume Risk – Poker players are more willing to assume risk than nonplayers. Most outsiders are conservative by nature, and would not be willing to risk large sums of money based on their own judgment and instinct. But we do this every day. Poker players tend to be very entrepreneurial as a class. Many players have started successful businesses, or have come to poker from the business community (the two are invariably linked). Many players are into personal investments and other forms of chance that require sound judgment and quick action – such as the financial markets and sports betting. Most poker players like to be in action both at and away from the table.

Acceptance of Loss – Poker players are more willing to accept losses and move on. When a poker player loses a $1,000 pot, he has to sit there and be quiet. He doesn't scream or protest (some do, but it doesn't do any good – the result is the same). He has to forget about the loss and get ready for the next hand. A few hours later, the loss is usually forgotten and the session is viewed within the context of an overall win or loss. It's the same in ordinary life. When we are hit with a personal setback, we accept it and move on.

Self-expression – Serious poker players build up a lifetime of suppressed emotions. A small minority of players do manage to get beyond the natural emotional responses to winning and losing, and are comfortable with variance. But the overwhelming majority of players are susceptible to mood swings that accompany the inevitable ups and downs of the game. For this reason, many poker players resort to various displays of personality – sometimes odd, sometimes eccentric manners of dress and behavior – that allow other aspects of their personality to flourish.

Poker players, in general, are more adapted to irregularities. For this reason, we as a social class are in a better position to deal with many of life's problems than nonplayers. The game teaches us valuable lessons about coping with loss and putting things into proper context. Many players go deeper than that and take a philosophical approach. It's as though our common experiences give us opportunities for reflection that enable us to reach similar conclusions. Perhaps the time we spend at the tables, in relative calm and silence, allows us greater time to think about our lives and what we mean within the larger context of the universe, while our compatriots in the outside world are simply too busy to take time to reflect. Solitude does have its advantages.