A
Between 2000 and 2005, under former Chief Executive Officer (CEO) Michael D. Eisner, the Walt Disney Company set its shareholder meetings in a series of cold-weather cities during cold-weather months. Many suspected that this had been done to discourage attendance by the company's increasingly restless shareholders. In 2006, however, there was no need for such measures. In October 2005, Chief Operating Officer Robert Iger had replaced Eisner as CEO. On taking charge, Iger quickly carried out a bold move, negotiating a buyout of Pixar Animation Studios. Although the price was high, the acquisition proved to be overwhelmingly popular.

B
Pixar had started life twenty years earlier as Pixar Inc., a computer hardware company, one of hundreds dotting the landscape of the San Francisco Bay Area in California. Within the company, a tiny animation group made short promotional films that brought in practically no revenue; the group came close more than once to being shut down. When the Pixar Image Computer proved unprofitable, the company turned to selling animation software and making animated commercials, but it continued to lose money year after year.

C
In 1991, when Disney agreed to finance the production of Pixar's first feature film for cinema release, Disney largely dictated the terms of the contract. In late 1993, Disney considered ordering Pixar to shut down production of the John Lasseter-directed film Toy Story because of problems with the script. At the time, Hollywood commentators doubted whether audiences would even sit through a full-length film made using the new medium of computer animation. It was unclear whether computer animation would prove to be a novelty that would quickly wear thin.

D
Before long, however, circumstances changed dramatically. A succession of critically acclaimed and commercially successful animated feature films, beginning with the release of Toy Story in 1995 and followed by A Bug's Life and Finding Nemo, made Pixar the world's leading animation studio. Disney earned enormous profits from distributing the films. When Pixar's majority owner and CEO, Steve Jobs, cut off contract talks with Disney in early 2004, the business press focused on how Disney would cope. By that time, Pixar films accounted for approximately 45 per cent of the operating income from Disney's film operations. Internal market research also showed that mothers of young children trusted the Pixar brand more than Disney's.

E
As a result of the 2005 acquisition, John Lasseter soon assumed the roles of Chief Creative Officer for both Disney and Pixar Animation, as well as Principal Creative Adviser for Disney's theme parks and resorts worldwide. Having helped to create a new genre of film at Pixar, Lasseter returned to Disney on his own terms, despite having briefly worked there earlier in his career.

F
When Iger invited Lasseter to speak at the 2006 shareholders' meeting, he was greeted with enthusiastic applause accompanied by a few bars of the Toy Story theme music. Lasseter spoke about his childhood love of Bugs Bunny cartoons and described working as a ride operator on Disneyland's Jungle Cruise, where telling jokes helped him gain confidence in public speaking. He also recalled studying at the California Institute of the Arts and the frustration he felt when Disney initially rejected computer animation technology. He concluded by explaining how he followed his dream to work with Ed Catmull.

G
Dr Edwin Catmull, then sixty-one years old and president of Pixar, was seated among the shareholders. Originally a computer graphics researcher, Catmull had moved unexpectedly into business leadership. He was widely regarded as brilliant, yet known for listening rather than dominating conversations, and when he spoke his manner was consistently friendly and courteous.

H
Although Catmull built on the work of others, the revolution in three-dimensional animation was largely his achievement. He maintained a long-term vision of fully computer-animated films and, while leading computer graphics laboratories at the New York Institute of Technology and at George Lucas's Lucasfilm, assembled the technical and creative teams that would later form the core of Pixar Animation Studios.

Numerous ancient civilisations collapsed or disappeared, leaving behind grand ruins reminiscent of what poet Shelley described in his sonnet Ozymandias. The term collapse refers to a significant reduction in population and/or political, economic, and social complexity of a society across a wide area for an extended period.

The awe-inspiring ruins left behind by these past societies captivate us all. As children, we marvel at them when we first discover them through pictures—vast stone structures, intricate carvings, or towering temples that defy imagination. As we grow older, many of us plan vacations to witness these remarkable sites firsthand, standing in silent reverence before the remnants of a world that once thrived. We are drawn to their magnificent and haunting beauty, as well as the enigmas they present. The grandeur of these ruins attests to the previous wealth and power of their builders, yet their sudden disappearance challenges our understanding of human resilience. These builders vanished, abandoning the remarkable structures they had painstakingly constructed. How did a once-mighty society end up collapsing, leaving behind only echoes of its former glory?

For a long time, it has been suspected that the mysterious disappearance of many such societies was, to some extent, triggered by ecological issues—unintentional destruction of the environmental resources on which their societies relied. This suspicion of unintended ecological suicide, or ecocide, has been substantiated by discoveries made in recent decades by archaeologists, climatologists, historians, palaeontologists, and palynologists (pollen scientists). The processes through which past societies have undermined themselves by damaging their environments can be categorised into eight areas, which vary in significance from one case to another: deforestation and habitat loss, soil degradation, water management challenges, overhunting, overfishing, the impacts of invasive species on native ones, human population growth, and increased human activity.

Historical collapses generally followed similar patterns resembling variations on a theme. These patterns often include resource depletion, environmental degradation, internal strife, or external pressures, yet the specific combination and intensity of these factors varied across civilisations. Writers are often tempted to draw analogies between the trajectory of human society and that of an individual's life, speaking of a society's birth, growth, peak, old age, and eventual demise. However, this metaphor proves inaccurate for many past societies: they experienced rapid declines after reaching their peak in terms of population and power, and these rapid declines must have come as a surprise and shock to their inhabitants. It is evident that not all past societies followed this trajectory uniformly to its conclusion: different societies collapsed to varying degrees and in somewhat distinct ways, while many societies did not collapse at all. The diversity in collapse mechanisms suggests that while certain systemic vulnerabilities may be universal, their expression is deeply contingent on local conditions, cultural responses, and the interplay of multiple stressors over time.

Currently, many individuals believe that environmental problems eclipse other global threats. These environmental problems encompass the same eight factors that contributed to past societies' downfalls, plus four new ones: human-induced climate change, the accumulation of toxic chemicals, energy shortages, and the complete utilisation of the Earth's photosynthetic capacity. However, the seriousness of these modern environmental dilemmas is vigorously debated among the scientific community. Are the perceived risks overstated or undervalued? Will contemporary technology resolve our issues, or is it producing new challenges faster than it can remedy old ones? When one resource (such as wood, oil, or ocean fish) is depleted, can we trust that new alternatives (like plastics, wind and solar energy, or farmed fish) will emerge? Isn't the rate of human population growth slowing down, suggesting we might soon reach a manageable global population?

Questions like these highlight why the well-known collapses of past civilisations carry more significance than merely being romantic mysteries. There may be practical lessons to be learnt from these historical failures. However, there are also differences between the modern world and its problems, and those ancient societies and their problems. It would be naive to assume that studying the past will yield straightforward answers directly applicable to today's world. We have certain advantages over past societies that reduce our risks, including our powerful technology (i.e. its beneficial effects), globalisation, modern medicine, and enhanced awareness of both past and distant modern societies. At the same time, there are also factors that heighten our risks in comparison to earlier civilisations: again, our potent technology (i.e. its unintended destructive effects), globalisation (where a problem in one area can affect the entire world), the reliance of millions on modern health care for survival, and our vastly larger human population. Perhaps we can still learn from the past, but only if we carefully contemplate its lessons.

A
According to game theory, our chances of success in negotiations are based on the choices of others. Computer models have been developed to work out how events will unfold as people and organizations act in what they perceive to be their own best interests. Numerical values are placed on the goals, motivations, and influence of players, and likely options are considered. Game theory software then evaluates the ability of each of those players to influence others, and hence predicts the course of events.

B
Although many individuals would feel uncomfortable having a computer make decisions for them, many organizations run such computer simulations for law firms, companies, and governments. But feeding software with accurate data on all the players involved is especially tricky for political matters. Reinier van Oosten of Decide, a Dutch firm that models political negotiations, notes that predictions may become unreliable when people unexpectedly give in to ‘non-rational’ emotions such as hatred, rather than pursuing what is apparently in their best interests. However, sorting out people’s motivations is much easier when making money is the main object. Accordingly, modeling behavior using game theory is proving especially useful when applied to economics.

C
Using game theory software to model auctions can be very lucrative. Consulting firms are entering the market to help clients design profitable auctions, or to win them less expensively. In 2006, in the run-up to an online auction of radio-spectrum licenses by America’s Federal Communications Commission, Dr Paul Milgrom, a consultant and Stanford University professor in the United States, customized his game theory software to assist a consortium of bidders. He was apprehensive at first, but the result was a triumph. When the auction began, Milgrom’s software tracked competitors’ bids to estimate their budgets for the 1,132 licenses on offer. Crucially, the software estimated the secret values bidders placed on specific licenses and determined that certain big licenses were being overvalued. Milgrom’s clients were then directed to obtain a collection of smaller, less expensive licenses instead. Two of his clients paid about a third less than their competitors for an equivalent amount of spectrum, saving almost $1.2 billion. Such a saving makes one wonder why everyone isn’t using game theory software. And, if they were, how would that affect the game?

D
PA Consulting, a British firm, designs models for software based on game theory to help its clients solve specific problems in areas from pharmaceuticals to the production of television shows. British government agencies have asked PA Consulting to build models to test scenarios that address how many of a type of business should be allowed to operate in a particular area. A simple example: if two competing ice-cream sellers share a long beach, they will set up stalls back-to-back in the middle and stay put, explains Dr Stephen Black, a modeler for PA. Unfortunately for potential customers at the far ends of the beach, each seller prevents the other from relocating – no other spot would be closer to more people. Introduce a third seller, however, and the stifling equilibrium is broken as relocations and pricing changes energize the market. By studying a chain of events such as this, software designers can assess the effect of change and see the patterns in possible outcomes that may occur. As a result, the use of modeling makes clients more inclined to look at future repercussions when making business decisions, Black says.

E
Where is all this heading? Alongside the increasingly elaborate modeling software, there are also efforts to develop software that can assist in negotiation and mediation. Two decades ago, Dr Clara Ponsati, a Spanish academic, came up with a clever idea. She accepted that, as negotiators everywhere know, the first side to disclose the maximum amount that it is willing to pay loses considerable bargaining power. Without leverage, it can be pushed backward in the bargaining process by a clever opponent. But if neither side reveals the concessions it is prepared to make, negotiations can become very slow or collapse. However, difficult negotiations can often be pushed along by neutral mediators, especially if they are entrusted with the secret bottom lines of all parties. Ponsati’s idea was that if a human mediator was not trusted, affordable, or available, a computer could do the job instead. Negotiating parties would update the software with the confidential information on their bargaining positions after each round of talks. Once positions on both sides were no longer mutually exclusive, the software would be used to split the difference and propose an agreement. Ponsati, now head of the Institute of Economic Analysis at the Autonomous University of Barcelona in Spain, says such ‘mediation machines’ could be employed to push negotiations forward by unlocking information that would otherwise be withheld from an opponent.

F
Could mediation which has been achieved using software based on game theory spread from auction bids and utility pricing to resolving political and military disputes? Today’s game theory software is not yet sufficiently advanced to mediate between warring countries. But one day opponents on the brink of war might be tempted to use it to exchange information without having to engage in conflict. According to some game theorists, opponents could learn how a war would turn out, skip the fighting, and strike a deal. Over-optimistic, perhaps – but game theorists do have rather an impressive track record when it comes to predicting the future.