In memory of the great teacher Eric Berne, and in the finest tradition of his game interaction analysis, I present a psychological game identified during group dynamics. I have tentatively titled this game “You are not trying hard enough for me.” First, I will review the definition and history of psychological games.

Eric Berne (1910–1970), a Canadian-born American psychiatrist and psychologist, created transactional analysis (TA) in the 1950s. He developed it as a more understandable and practical alternative to Sigmund Freud’s classical psychoanalysis. After years of training in the psychoanalytic tradition, Berne became disappointed with its slow pace and excessive focus on internal unconscious processes. He noticed that much more could be understood by observing how individuals communicate with others in real, live contacts. This led to the idea of analyzing “transactions,” or interactions between people, rather than just the isolated personality.

In 1957, Berne presented his key work, "Transactional Analysis: A New and Effective Method of Group Therapy." This paper was published in the American Journal of Psychotherapy in 1958, marking the official birth of TA as a distinct psychotherapeutic approach. The practice of TA began specifically with group therapy. Working with therapeutic groups, Berne observed repeating interaction patterns where individuals would rescue, blame, or unconsciously provoke conflict to receive a familiar emotional payoff.

Berne called these stable, repeating patterns psychological games. This observation led to the creation of the famous Parent-Adult-Child ego states and game theory itself, which he later described in detail (Berne, 1964). For Berne, the group was almost a laboratory of human relationships. It was the ideal environment to see how people unconsciously reproduce their life scripts.

Based on extensive practical experience observing games in individual therapy, group therapy, and private life, I offer a new game called “You are not trying hard enough for me.” It is a relational psychological game with a specific nuance: blaming another person for insufficient care or effort. This game expands the repertoire proposed by Berne and reflects an ineffective relational pattern where the player never receives adequate care from group members or the therapist. It is rooted in an anxious attachment style (Bowlby, 1969) and relies on the ineffective behavior pattern of constantly testing for proof of love.

An example from therapeutic groups

Participant A, the player, joins a group with a genuine request to form close relationships and escape social isolation. However, they immediately establish rigid boundaries, such as stating they do not want feedback or will only accept positive feedback. This increases the distance from other participants and requires them to make a special effort to meet these conditions. This initial “hook” is a characteristic diagnostic sign of the upcoming game. As long as the therapy does not touch upon interpersonal relationships, everything goes well.

Once Participant A faces relationship dynamics, the game begins. The player asks for help from the Victim role and receives it, but deems the assistance insufficient or incorrect. The participant then makes complaints against other members and the therapist, which is another crucial criterion of the game. The player's expectations remain unspoken, and the criteria for the desired outcome constantly change.

The therapist and group members get involved and start trying harder, reacting from the Rescuer role after swallowing the hook. This extra effort does not help the situation. Participant A becomes disappointed, claiming that group therapy does not work, that they expected something else, and that they are receiving nothing. Taking on the Persecutor role, the player ultimately leaves the group. This action confirms their isolation and disappointment, thereby advancing their negative life script.

The essence of the game

The player unconsciously invites another person into a rescuer or helper position but makes successful help impossible. They then claim the right to accuse the helper by saying, “You are not trying hard enough for me.” Finally, they break contact and retreat into their familiar disappointment and loneliness. This game reinforces the “Loveless” script (Steiner, 1974) and is highly characteristic of individuals with a borderline personality structure.

In my therapeutic experience with clients playing this game, I noticed that even when reliable, warm contact is maintained, the player finds a reason to leave. They rationalize breaking contact with thoughts like "TA does not work," "results are impossible to measure," or "group members are indifferent and cruel." In doing so, they ignore and devalue all the positive aspects of the relationship and the work accomplished.

Externally, the game looks like a request for support. Internally, it is an active search to confirm core beliefs such as "nobody truly loves me" or "nobody truly cares about me." The player operates from the existential position that others are "not OK."

The game formula in a group

At the very beginning of the interaction, the contact does not look like a game. The player establishes a contract from the Adult ego state, demonstrates understanding, states what they need, and even acknowledges aloud how they might resist change. The game begins when other participants or the therapist respond to the player's hidden transactions and requests. This triggers the dynamic shifting of the game interaction according to Berne’s formula: Con + Gimmick = Response → Switch → Crossup → Payoff.

The con, or hook, is a request for help accompanied by a demand for special treatment on the social level. On the psychological level, it involves foundational doubts about the help, followed immediately by complaints. The player asks for more or different help, inviting others to engage from a Victim-Persecutor dynamic (Karpman, 1968). The gimmick is the activation of even more care from the group. Instead of asking clarifying questions about what specific help is needed, the therapist and group members begin to try harder.

During the response phase, participants offer solutions, show care, accept new conditions, and invest discretionary effort. They enter the Rescuer-Victim role (Karpman, 1968) and increase their efforts to please the player. The switch involves a sudden change in rules, where the criteria for success are constantly altered. The player declares that the help is ineffective and retrospectively devalues it, shifting fully into the Victim role.

This leads to the crossup, where participants feel confused because they do not understand what is happening. They have done what was asked of them and more, which leads to feelings of guilt and irritation. Finally, the payoff is the confirmation of disappointment. The player remains isolated, citing insufficient care as the reason, and cleanly severs the contact.

Psychological structure

On the social level, the player initially asks for help from the Adult ego state, addressing the Adult of the therapist and group members with the message, “I need help.” On the psychological level, however, the player sends a message from their Child ego state to the Parent ego state of the therapist and participants. This hidden message says, “Prove that you love me and lose!”

The underlying meaning of this transaction is that the player does not actually need help. Instead, they need confirmation of their importance, proof of love, emotional fusion, or validation of their abandonment script.

Payoffs

On the internal psychological level, the payoff is the confirmation of the belief "I am not getting enough," which maintains the Victim position. Interpersonally, it allows the player to control relationships and keep their partner trapped in guilt from the Persecutor role. Socially, it grants the right to complain to third parties from the Victim role, claiming, "I tried, but no one does anything for me." Existentially, it confirms the life position of "I am not OK, and you are not OK."

Markers of game activation

Several signs indicate that this game has started in a group setting. First, the help provided is never considered sufficient, and the rules change after every step. Second, the therapist and other participants begin to feel guilty or powerless as emotional tension grows without any clinical progress. Finally, if the therapist gets drawn in, countertransference feelings emerge. These include a desperate desire to try harder, feelings of incompetence, fatigue, and eventually anger.

Therapeutic interventions

Effective work requires the therapist to actively step out of the Rescuer, Persecutor, and Victim roles and move toward clear contracting and boundaries. Useful interventions include clarifying expectations, checking the client's understanding of events, and establishing rigid criteria for change. The therapist should guide the client back to the Adult ego state and utilize a "bull's-eye" transaction. The goal of therapy is to develop the ability to accept "good enough" care without neurotic testing, while fostering autonomy and the skills of love (Fromm, 1956).

Differential diagnosis

This game differs significantly from standard TA games. Compared to "Poor Me," the payoff shifts from receiving care to actively devaluing it. In contrast to "Yes, But...," the focus moves from the unsolvable nature of the problem to the overall inadequacy of the relationship. Unlike "Now I've Got You, You Son of a Bitch," the payoff is not a sense of triumph, but rather deep disappointment and loneliness.

The proposed game, "You are not trying hard enough for me," is distinct because its central psychological payoff is not linked to accusation, helplessness, or entrapment. Instead, it is linked to the repeated confirmation that it is impossible to receive enough love from a significant figure. Recognizing this pattern reduces the risk of therapist burnout and increases the clarity of the therapeutic contract, a process supported by personal therapy and professional supervision.

Conclusion

"You are not trying hard enough for me" shows that relationship disappointment can function as a structured strategy to maintain a life script. This game is a relational pattern based on devaluing care and an inability to see, accept, or be grateful for it. Describing it expands the understanding of psychological games in TA by integrating script theory with attachment dynamics. Ultimately, it is essential to remember that a game is always a mutual process.