In support of the theoretical link between overconfidence and war (
Blainey 1973;
Johnson 2004;
Van Evera 1999), we found that: (i) subjects in a wargame were overconfident about their expectations of success in conflict; (ii) those who were more overconfident were more likely to make unprovoked attacks; (iii) overconfidence and unprovoked attacks were more pronounced among males than females; and (iv) overconfidence or unprovoked attacks were not correlated with testosterone. We also found that narcissism scores predicted both overconfidence and unprovoked attacks among males.
There are a number of possible confounding factors in our study. For example, any influence of testosterone may have been masked by other factors known to mediate the impact of this hormone on the body, such as individual variation in the androgen receptor gene, or in androgen receptor density and distribution in key neuro-anatomical structures (
Manning et al. 2003). Another unknown is whether males in our sample had more experience with similar kinds of tasks and/or were more engaged in such tasks, which may have increased their perceived level of confidence. In a prior study, some of our research group obtained information about the computer game habits of a similar population for a related wargame experiment (
McDermott & Cowden 2001). In that study, there was no difference between the number of hours men and women had played computer games in the past, or the number of hours they currently spent playing such games. However, the type of game being played differed, such that women reported preferences for games such as Pac Man and Tetrus, while men preferred games like Mortal Kombat. Recent research suggests that in the new ‘gamer generation’, computer games are increasingly attracting both males and females (
Beck & Wade 2004). In Beck & Wade's study of 2500 American business professionals, females accounted for 36% of frequent gamers, 67% of moderate gamers, and 77% of non-gamers. The key difference was again in the preferred types of games. Men favoured strategy, sports, racing, and action games, females favoured cerebral arcade, quiz, and puzzle games. The authors concluded that: ‘What is clear is that the game world is not, as so many assume, exclusively male; that female participation continues to increase; and that gender-role behaviour is more nuanced than nongamers tend to expect’ (
Beck & Wade 2004: 51).
Even if there are gender differences in experience with computer games (or indeed any other cultural explanation for a gender difference in behaviour), our key finding is that males
were overconfident; and males who were more overconfident were
more likely to launch wars. This remains a concern irrespective of its origin: overconfidence among decision-makers may increase the chance and/or costs of war because it leads to inflated estimates of success—not necessarily of winning outright, but of likely performance, the costs involved, vulnerability to risk, and the ability to control events if things go badly (
Johnson 2004).
Does this lead to useful predictions for the real world? International conflict is constant but war is not, so any plausible cause of war must exhibit
variation to explain times of peace and times of war. Positive illusions are compelling as a cause of war because they are known to vary with specific factors. First, they vary with mental states. They are virtually absent among the depressed (a phenomenon known as ‘depressive realism’), and are hugely exaggerated among those suffering from extreme narcissism or mania (a trait much more common among twentieth century leaders than in the population at large,
Taylor 1989;
Ludwig 2002). Second, positive illusions vary with context. They are greater, for example, in situations of ambiguity, low feedback, and where events are difficult to verify. Some researchers suggest that such contextual factors can explain 100% of the variation in positive illusions (
Taylor & Armor 1996;
Taylor et al. 2003). Third, while common to all cultures, positive illusions are relatively higher among western (especially American) populations than eastern populations (
Armor & Taylor 1998;
Sedikides et al. 2003). Fourth, the influence of positive illusions on policy outcomes varies with regime type and the decision-making process. In sum, a number of specific situations may conspire to exacerbate or nullify positive illusions. A fairly explicit theory can therefore be constructed to derive predictions for when we can expect to see positive illusions in real world decision-making, when they are likely to contribute to causing war and, potentially, how to reduce them (
Johnson 2004).
Of course, the direct applicability of our findings to the real world is heavily limited by a number of features, including the artificial laboratory setting, a situation and environment that differs markedly from real world political decision-making, anonymity, dyadic two-player interactions, a small number of iterations, and decisions that were hardly a matter of life and death. Subjects may play games to win, and can take greater risks than they would in real life (
Beck & Wade 2004). In addition, the data in this study come from subjects who tended to be of a certain age, educational attainment and cultural background. The effects described here may therefore be different among people of different social, demographic and cultural backgrounds. However, these subjects were not drawn from an unduly narrow demographic base. The point of this experiment was to take a step towards testing for positive illusions in a situation
more like war than has been attempted until now. This study reports on actual behaviour, and not merely a self-report of attitudes or hypothetical responses. Further, recent work indicates that simulated and real behaviour follow similar pathways in the brain (
Jeannerod & Decety 1995). Many neurological and physiological pathways influencing decision-making and behaviour are therefore likely to be the same in the laboratory and in the halls of government, even if the magnitude of effect is very different. There is little reason to suppose that the
direction of effects is wrong. Indeed, the pressures of limited time, high stakes, and stress in typical crisis decision-making among political or military leaders may exacerbate the effects of psychological biases rather than eliminate them (
Nicholson 1992;
McDermott 2004;
Rosen 2004). It is also worth noting that wargames are not just games. Militaries across the world expend a large amount of time and resources conducting and running wargames to train and prepare their forces for real events. Some are very simple. In the 1980s the US Army used a modified commercial Atari game ‘Battlezone’ for gunnery training, and the US Marines have more recently used a version of ‘Doom’ to train for urban combat (
Handley 2003). Others are vastly more far-reaching. The Millennium Challenge war game run by the
US Department of Defense in 2002, for example, was a key stage in examining scenarios for the invasion of Iraq in 2003 and cost $250 million (
US Joint Forces Command 2002). Since militaries are often concerned with how wargames represent real war, there is a significant need to understand human biology and behaviour in wargames, whether or not they also reflect real war.
Three examples illustrate how specific aspects of our findings may or may not map onto the real world and raise some interesting hypotheses that could be tested in the future. First, although we found that self-rankings were not related to actual rankings, in the real world one might expect these variables to be inextricably linked. Small countries like Liechtenstein, for example, do not usually attack large countries like Russia. There are, clearly, limits on positive illusions beyond which an inconsistency between real and perceived power would be untenable. Nevertheless, there is good evidence that a mismatch between a state's
real power and a state's
perceived power is quite common, and that this often leads to war (
Blainey 1973;
Van Evera 1999;
Johnson 2004). Furthermore, materially weaker sides often do fight and defeat more powerful opponents, such as the Mujahideen victory over the Soviet Union in Afghanistan or the Viet Cong's victory over the United States in Vietnam (
Paul 1994;
Arreguín-Toft 2005), along with countless examples of smaller-scale battles in which weaker units attacked and defeated much stronger sides (
Johnson et al. 2002). So there is, in fact, considerable room for positive illusions of capability to go uncorrected and even apparently confirmed. One can always envision a conflict to turn out like Henry V at Agincourt rather than like Custer at the Little Big Horn. There is therefore no reason to expect a perfect correlation of real and perceived capability in either wargames or the real world.
Second, extrapolating experimental work to real world situations may be complicated by cultural variation. For example, southerners in the United States have been found to exhibit greater anger and testosterone levels in response to insults than northerners (
Nisbett & Cohen 1996), and many historians have noted the striking cultural differences in the tactics, behaviour, and decision-making that characterized these two cultures in the American Civil War (e.g.
McWhiney & Jamieson 1982). In our case, however, such cultural variation would only lead to conservative conclusions: If our population is ‘northern’, then we may expect to observe even
more extreme behaviour in a southern population.
Third, the behaviour of our (mostly young) experimental subjects might be expected to differ from the behaviour of our (mostly old) state leaders and decision-makers. Age in our sample did not predict decisions for war (Mann–Whitney
U-test: all data,
Z=0.75,
N=46,137,
p=0.45; males,
Z=0.49,
N=33,72,
p=0.62; females,
Z=1.64,
N=13,65,
p=0.10; no subjects were excluded). However, the relationship between age and decisions for war has only recently been studied and remains unclear. One study suggests that political leaders with shorter tenures in office (and by implication
younger) are more likely to attract military challenges than long-tenured men, and this makes democracies more likely to be challenged because of their restrictions on term limits (
Gelpi & Greico 2001). Another recent study by some of our research group found regime type to be important, but in democracies
older men tended to initiate violence more often (
Horowitz et al. 2005; the reverse pattern was true in autocracies, where leaders have more individual power). The effect of age on decisions for war remains an empirical question.
While there is copious circumstantial and anecdotal evidence linking overconfidence and war, there has been no direct evidence that people exhibit positive illusions in decisions specifically relating to conflict, nor evidence that having positive illusions increases the probability of war. This study is a first step in that direction. Scholarship on the causes of war, which is founded on assumptions about human nature dating to Thucydides, Hobbes and Rousseau, may be usefully informed by modern empirical data on our biological and psychological predispositions towards conflict, and their proximate and evolutionary origins (
Wrangham & Peterson 1996;
Wilson 1999;
Pinker 2002;
Johnson 2004;
Rosen 2004;
Thayer 2004;
Sagarin & Taylor in press). It is hard to ignore the gathering trend: as Nobel Laureate Daniel Kahneman noted recently, ‘the bottom line is that all the biases in judgment that have been identified in the last 15 years tend to bias decision-making toward the hawkish side’ (
Shea 2004).