

In the previous column, I discussed three main motives to play bridge—achievement, mastery, and socialization—and asked you to help me uncover additional motivations that drive you to pursue bridge. There were many replies, and I am glad you are interested in this topic. In the text that follows, I will address some of them.
Many mentioned cognitive training and the maintenance of cognitive skills. There is much truth in this, but somehow I think that these are mainly byproducts, rather than the reasons why people choose bridge. I might be wrong.
Compared to passive leisure activities such as watching TV—where you just consume what is on screen—bridge involves the activation of a wide range of mental processes, from basic ones such as memory and counting to deep and elaborate ones such as probability assessment, decision-making, and problem-solving. On every board, at least the basic ones are triggered (you have to at least count points), so you can’t slack off. We all know what happens if our attention wanders, and the consequence is immediate and hurtful (what was the lead? Is this card high?).
Actually, it surprises me that my focus in bridge is rather sharp, while I am hopeless when I watch a movie or read a book and can’t concentrate for more than a few minutes (who is this guy?—turns out to be the main character). Bridge constantly pushes us to perform. It is reasonable to assume that the permanent use of these skills would lead to their improvement.
Also, there are some scientific data on the relationship between playing bridge and the development/maintenance of cognitive skills. These studies show that bridge is associated with enhanced working memory and reasoning, and brain imaging suggests functional processing differences in players versus non-players. For example, in 2024, Darwin Li from Upper Canada College published a literature review focused on the cognitive benefits of playing contract bridge for elderly individuals with dementia. Li’s report suggested that engagement in bridge may lead to better cognitive function and quality of life in dementia patients.
Still, let’s not forget that there are many other activities that help cognitive performance as well. For example, solving puzzles like crosswords or sudoku, playing challenging video games, learning languages, as well as pursuing creative and artistic activities are certainly useful for one’s cognitive functioning. However, in my opinion, bridge is incredibly well-balanced in terms of mental effort, luck, social contact, and challenge. The combination of these factors creates a mild addiction that pushes players to persist even if it requires a lot of effort and concentration, while engagement in some other activities may be more prone to abandonment.
I suspect that when we say we play bridge to sharpen or maintain our thinking, this might not tell the whole story. I think you play for pleasure, and the fact that it can help your cognition is a convenient surplus—and also something you can use to legitimize playing, both to yourself and to others. But you would play even if it weren’t so, wouldn’t you?
Bridge also seems to provide a certain schedule and order in one’s activities. I play bridge on Monday evenings, and for years all my other plans have been adjusted to this. My aunt plays bridge every morning on her computer. It is how her day starts, and it gives her a sense of structure and stability. She has her cup of coffee, and after a short match, she is ready for other daily challenges, knowing that she is already on the right track.
Some of you mentioned that you started to play long ago, when you were kids, with your parents or grandparents. Continuing to play bridge somehow connects us with our previous bridge experiences, capturing all those games we played throughout our lives and all the people who participated. For me, it is a network of tens (maybe hundreds?) of thousands of people I somehow, sometimes competed with—at the same tournaments or championships. Our names appeared on the same lists, and our results influenced each other. If I made that overtrick in 3NT back in 2002, he would have earned that extra matchpoint and would have been European champion. Amazing.
But in this massive experience, there will always be some special moments that linger with us: hands played with family members, friends, lovers, including people we cared for and who are no longer with us. We may not remember boards or results, but we can still recall the atmosphere. Every new hand feeds on memories, restores connections, and adds a new brick to this already well-established habit. So yes, I would agree that we partially play bridge because we are used to it; it is who we are—or, to be harsh, because we don’t know any better.
As someone mentioned, playing bridge gives us a break from thinking about other, perhaps troubling, issues. It is a common characteristic of all games; and play itself is defined by moving from the real to an imaginative world where different rules, principles, and goals are in force. As I wrote in one of my previous columns, and as one commentator mentioned, bridge triggers all kinds of emotions, often rather strong ones. While we naturally prefer positive emotions such as happiness, pride, and self-confidence, experiencing bitter emotions such as shame or envy is useful, as we learn how to deal with them in the safe environment of the game. Experiencing and expressing a wide range of emotions protects us from boredom and monotony and keeps the mind engaged and stimulated.
One commentator just wrote “Money,” and I am not sure what they mean. Are they a professional earning from bridge? Or maybe money is a motivator in the sense that playing bridge is so affordable compared to other activities: for online play, you need a device with an internet connection, and basically, that is it. Even club play is cheap compared to activities like going to the cinema or theatre. There is so much available material online where you can learn and practice any aspect of the game that, besides commitment, you don’t need anything else to improve your game. Going to national or international tournaments is, of course, rather expensive, but that is because of travel and accommodation costs—just like any trip.
What money may also represent is not income, but stakes. Even small entry fees or symbolic prizes can change the way we approach the game. Bridge needs something at stake to work properly—too little, and effort fades; too much, and anxiety takes over. In this sense, money helps keep the game in a psychologically optimal zone, serious enough to matter, yet safe enough to fail. At the same time, money can serve as a form of legitimization of play: organized competition, rankings, entry fees, and prizes turn play into something structured and socially acceptable, something that can be defended both to others and to ourselves. We are not “just playing cards”; we are participating in an organized, meaningful activity.
Finally, one reader asked for real data, so although research on bridge players is scarce, here are two of my own published peer-reviewed articles on this topic:
I hope that in this column I have touched on the many facets that make bridge such a compelling game and that everyone found some of their own motives. Of course, every player will have their own story, their own reasons, and their own joys in the game. If I have captured some of what drives you to sit at the table, I am grateful; and if I have missed something, I look forward to hearing about it in the comments.
Ultimately, bridge is more than just a game—it is a way to think, feel, and connect. Wishing you happy holidays, many joyful moments at the table, and memorable bridge experiences in the year ahead!
Tihana Brkljacic has been an international bridge player since 1998. She’s represented Croatia over 20 times at European or world championships and is a multiple Croatian champion. She’s been teaching bridge since 2000 at the Faculty of Electrical Engineering and Computing at Zagreb University and also holds lectures for advanced players.