The Only Way to Win Is to Trust
In school, there are those who start study groups and share their notes. And there are those who guard their resources and treat peers as competition. You see it at work too: some people sabotage coworkers for a raise, others lift their teammates for the win. In love, some keep a wall up so they can walk away unscathed. Others open their hearts, knowing full well what it might break them.
The protectors often scoff at the collaborators. Young and naive, they say. One day, you’ll learn the hard way. And they’re not wrong. As kids we all start open — trusting, idealistic — until something happens. A betrayal. A breach. Then many realize: it’s a cold world we live in. We learn to keep our cards close, our ego intact. Caution often appear synonymous with maturity and wisdom.
In game theory, this is called the prisoner’s dilemma. If both players cooperate, they both win more. But if one defects, the other pays the price. So most people defect first, just to be safe.
Because trust makes you vulnerable. It hands someone else a piece of your fate. As strong and capable individuals, you may think: why let anyone else dictate my life? If you trust the wrong person, you really can lose everything.
But the safest path is the one guaranteed to lose. Distrust shields you from pain, and from everything else worth reaching.
Everything beautiful about humanity is born from collaboration:
Your favorite song didn’t come from one artist. It took writers, producers, musicians, engineers — people trusting each other’s instincts, knowing full well that one person might take all the credit (and it happens all the time in the music industry). The phone in your hand is the result of thousands across continents working on screens, chips, code, and supply chains. Same with your favorite show. The car you drive. The hospitals, schools, and cities we rely on — all function because, despite the good, the bad, and the ugly, people still choose to build together.
And beyond the tangible, there are the things that shape us most. The friendships that healed you, the love that changed you, the rights you live under — only exist because someone, at some point, decided to trust. The Constitution that shaped the most powerful nation in history was built on a single, daring idea: that strangers could be trusted with freedom. Everything beautiful about life is built not by guarding what’s yours, but by risking something with someone else. You don’t need to believe in fairy tales to believe in trust. Just look around. Trust is how humanity moves forward.
The world is full of betrayal and competition. And I’ve heard the world speak. Men say: Don’t trust no bitch. Women say: Men are the problem. Friends warn: Open up to the wrong ones, and they’ll stab you in the back.
Countries impose 200% tariffs. Diplomacy is replaced by deterrence. Founders gatekeep their ideas and circles. Engineers sabotage ex-teammates for shrinking job offers. Everywhere I look, trust is treated as a liability — too risky to hold, too expensive to insure. In today’s economy of fear, the safest bet is self-preservation.
And you know what? Every one of those warnings is true. Distrust is a survival tactic backed by science, statistics, and true (horror) stories. You’re rewarded for preparing for the worst. Meanwhile, trust is a gamble, built on concepts, ideals, and blind faith. One path is safe and fact-based. The other is risky and fragile.
But the safe path leads to the end of times. The hard path is the only one with a future.
I could protect myself and stay safe. I could withhold, withdraw, calculate every move. I probably should. And to trust — especially after being hurt — is so, so hard. But I still want to choose trust. Choose love. Choose meaning. Choose creation.
Not because I think the world is good, it’s actually the opposite. But because trust is the only way up, and the only way out.