and war are exactly alike. It is lawful

to use tricks and slights to obtain a desired

end. But is all fair

in love and war? That's a good question,

let's pencil it in for

this episode.

Of course, pencil is not permanent. It can be erased.

It's not like whatever I write down is being chiseled into granite.

But pencil lead is made out of carbon

atoms organised into a structure called graphite -

a nonmetallic mineral with some metallic properties found naturally

in rocks, which means things written in pencil,

though erasable, are still technically written

in stone. In video games

if the bad guys really wanted to stop you, why did they walk around in such

predictable patterns?

Wouldn't their chances be better if they just came right at you?

There's a great name for this logic:

"mook chivalry". It's as if there's a sort of

unwritten Geneva Convention that applies to fictional baddies

that respects not reality, or what would make sense,

but instead the higher purpose of fun,

and a good story. But in real life

we aren't that much different from the mooks.

We construct voluntary obstacles in the way

of even honourable goals, like truth, justice,

or right over wrong. Not all is fair

in love and war. And it's the exceptions that make us who we are.

Torturing your enemies to

get information from them, to demoralise them, or just for

fun has been a "might

is right" part of war since war began.

But in the second half of the 19th century, Henry Dunant,

the founder of the Red Cross organized an official moral code

of warfare - The Geneva Conventions, that today

across it's now 4 conventions has been agreed to be followed

by 196 nations. And since then

various other customs, codes and principles have been established

totaling up into what may now be called the "Rules

of war". Their enforcement is handled by regional,

national and international powers. Of course,

an unconcerned force would simply ignore these rules

because the quickest route to victory is the one full

of unfair advantages, but nonetheless

we treasure them. Try to, at least. And believe that all

others should. The values they recognise

are telling. Things unrelated to military necessity,

or valued in a sense, more greatly than immediate victory

are protected. For instance, The Environmental Modification Convention

prohibits controlling the weather and using the

weather as a weapon against your opponents. Before the convention

that happened. For example, during Operation Popeye

US airplanes seeded rain clouds over Vietnam

and successfully extended the monsoon season by more than a month,

increasing rainfall by 30 percent - a move that made enemy road surfaces muddy,

blocked by landslides, washed out, much

less passable. The laws of war protect certain symbols.

Parties or infrastructures bearing symbols that indicate there are

only there to help, or are neutral, culturally important buildings that

should be protected for posterity

are off limits.

It's a violation of the laws of war

to attack such targets or to pretend to be such targets

if your intentions are otherwise.

That is called perfidy. A kind of deception that involves

pretending to act fairly and honestly to invite the confidence of an adversary,

only to then take advantage of that trust, betray it

and kill, injure or capture.

If you do one of those three things while pretending to be dead

or injured or surrendered or civilian or a non-combatant,

well, that's a violation of the rules of war. Espionage

is allowed. But if caught, you can be

prosecuted and punished. Whereas if you are a lawful combatants on the other

hand you're entitled

to protection as an official prisoner-of-war.

Conditions like these reveal something we desire to hold

above quick vengeance: dignity and respect.

Both sides wish to be treated with that and

uphold the bargain. Athletes agreed to play fair,

to avoid prohibited things, even technically safe and

otherwise legal things that would nonetheless give them

an unfair advantage. They do this because the spirit of the sport

is more important to them then the quickest

victory possible,

sportsmanship. Likewise, a sort of

"lovesmanship" exists in US court rooms.

If the most sure-fire way of getting the truth of someone's guilt

involves spoiling a bond of love. Spousal privilege

says chill. Love is sacred. Truth

will come second, find another way. So,

if you are planning on committing crimes in the US,

and you need an accomplice, marry them.

Your spouse can not be forced to testify against you.

There are different privileges applying to other

relations of yours, allowing them to refuse to give evidence

against you. These rules exist to honour something that we deem, or

like to deem, greater than easy victory. You cannot travel faster

than light.

Or escape from a black hole. Or commit perfidy

in a time of war. Or cheat on your significant other.

That's usually considered unfair,

but the final two aren't physical limitations of matter.

They are voluntary obstacles reflecting

what we value. Whether we respect those values, or not, is another story.

And how we interpret what actions are over the line and what aren't

is a matter of judgment. We didn't get to create

protons or planets - they were already here.

But we do get to create judgments.

We even named ourselves after that ability.

We call ourselves Homo sapiens. 'Homo' meaning

hummus - the soil, we are from the earth. 'Sapien' mean

sapiens, the ability to make wise judgments.

Very few people would argue that all truly is fair

in love and war, but in love and war

behaviours otherwise not acceptable can be not only forgiven,

but recommended. Reading messages not meant for yourself,

using disguises, even murder can be downgraded to a

crime of passion or lawful combat.

But love and war put different things at stake.

And just because unfair things are expected during love

and war doesn't mean that within their respective domains

we prosecute or prohibit unfairness in the same way.

Violating the law of war is a crime

but there is no official law of

love.

You can prosecute someone for perfidy, or desertion,

or weaponising the weather,

but you can't prosecute cupid for heartbreak.

You can't have someone arrested for not loving you back

and you shouldn't call 911 if someone leaves you

for someone else.

You see, there is no Geneva Convention for love.

Furthermore, we often route for friends or

fictional characters who follow their hearts, even if it means leaving someone

we

care less for -

a minor character for instance - alone or stranded

at the altar.

Does this mean that love is a better excuse for bad behavior

than war?

Obviously not for criminal behaviour, but otherwise?

As far as authoritative powers and our modern conception of love

are concerned,

war - its technologies and strategies are human invention.

Whereas love

is a human condition.

Love is like inertia or death - inevitable.

A law of nature and blameless,

if unkind. We legislate where a bomb can fall,

where debris can fall and prosecute those who violate those rulings.

But we don't prosecute gravity for making

things fall. We support voluntary restrictions on

fair play in sports more - public etiquette.

But the players in love's battlefield are blameless

victims of their passion, even if those passions

are nonsensical. The heart has its reasons,

which reason knows nothing of. Deceiving others,

that is what the world calls a romance. Maybe love has this power intrinsically or

maybe we give it that power by leaving so

legally alone. But either way,

broken bones are the domain of law.

Broken hearts are the domain of 'aww',

'shucks',

'sorry'. And as always,

thanks for watching.