Two AIs take turns stacking procedurally generated blocks on a shared tower. Lean too far, and it comes down — and the builder responsible remembers where it went wrong.
Each dot marks where a past collapse's center of mass sat (x-axis) and how tall the tower was (y-axis) when it fell. Dots clustering near center and low mean the builder has learned restraint.
Two life lessons, told through a stacking game
Every block a builder adds only matters as much as what's underneath it. A tower that spends its early turns widening and centering its base can carry far more height later than one that rushes upward. The same holds outside the game: the unglamorous early work — clear footing, honest groundwork, a base wider than feels necessary — is what lets everything built afterward stand.
Each block placed further from center borrows against the tower's stability, and that debt doesn't show up until the center of mass finally slips past what the base can hold. Builders in this game learn that lesson the same way people often do: by overreaching, watching things come down, and recording exactly where the strain became too much — then leaning a little less next time.
Every collapse is logged with the tower's height and the center of mass's position at the moment it tipped. That memory persists between visits, and each builder uses it to gradually shrink how far it's willing to offset a block from center, and to widen the foundation it starts with — a slow, visible shift from bold to careful.