Jeff Jochum's Blog   Unreasonable Thoughts from a Reasonable Man

Overall, I participated in three of the game scenarios. They had already been playing for a few hours, and seemed happy to indoctrinate a couple of newbs (me and one other) into their world.  It was clear from the start that the core-team leader (whom I’ll refer to as “the Boss”) was also the repeatedly self-proclaimed “Werewolf expert,” who set about giving us, and later governing, the rules. As an equally self-proclaimed authority-questioner, I sensed I could be in for a bumpy ride.

Here’s how the game works: Everyone playing is secretly given some unique role within the Village.  Two or three are Werewolves, whose job it is to kill the others (in the dark) without being revealed.  The rest have some form of power that could help unmask these werewolves, IF they work together. When they don’t, innocent people die, either by werewolf attacks or by accusations of werewolfness and being burned at the stake (requiring some form of loud screaming exaltation). The dead are ejected out of the game.  Initially, I presumed this to be a fun, team-unity exercise… I couldn’t have been more wrong. I soon learned that it was really a game of personal power and intimidation, which shouldn’t have been a surprise once I learned the basic premise was Win By Lying.

1st game – An exercise in learning by doing. As luck would have it, I was (randomly) assigned one of the more powerful roles in the game and, apparently misunderstanding advice from the Boss, I screwed it up.  Failing in public is a powerful incentive to get better FAST.  And, I know that not owning the Fail means a deeper hole NOW.  I was determined  not to do either and quickly discovered there are a lot of bridges to get thrown under in this game.

At the end of game #1, the Boss asked me, “Why are you so bad at this?  It’s a game of lying and aren’t all marketers liars?” Nervous laughs around the room. “Only the stupid ones” I laughed. From the crowd: crickets. (Yeah, after this I should’ve seen the rest of this story coming – I’m an idiot.)

2nd game – Another lesson in humility.  In game #2 I became more aggressive. No secret powers this time (I was just a lowly villager) though I paid CLOSE attention and focused on my only job; deducing the werewolves’ identity. At some point, I became convinced the Boss was a werewolf and, without further ado, made a convincing argument to the rest of the group (I’m a pretty good salesperson, after all.)  POOF! – the boss is burned at the stake.  W00T! Huge personal win for me… or at least it would’ve been if I’d been correct. In fact, the Boss wasn’t the werewolf and, worse yet, kicking the Boss from the game actually helped the real werewolves kill the rest of the village in the next couple moves.  Oops. Crickets were now offset by glares. I could sense mental torches being lit – this time for me.

I apologized repeatedly, profusely, sincerely, to the group and suggested I stop playing, for the betterment of the game.  This was not to be. The boss insisted I play one more…

3rd game – This game began in earnest even before it began in practice, with the Boss forcefully announcing that its “good practice to not kill advanced, experienced players too early in the game” – reiterating that “no one has more experience than me.” The Boss concluded flatly, “Not a rule, just good advice,“ looking straight at me. Wow. It changed everything.

[Is that kind of intimidation really effective? Sadly, You betcha. It worked like a charm, and the Boss lasted a lot longer, in game #3.  Why?  Keep reading.]

In game #3, I was once-again assigned a position of power, which I chose to squander by staying passive the entire game. Sadly, it was my most successful game, judging by the crowd’s reaction afterward.  They seemed genuinely relieved when I said I was done playing for the night. (Forever, actually)

And, who could blame them? My failed strategy of playing this like a game of entertainment had made it an uncomfortable and tense situation for everyone.  I was an interloper who had arrived on the scene and naively challenged the leadership.  Even as accidentally as I’d done it, this undermined the basic purpose of the activity in the first place, which was to reinforce the leaders’ dominance, not question it. My departure reset the world for their village, where the werewolf always wins, even when a scenario defeats them, temporarily.  The real game is perpetual and has nothing to do with fake lycanthropes.

When the Boss used the Spell of Intimidation at the outset of game #3, he transcended the Werewolf game entirely by identifying himself as a real-life “werewolf” to whom winning was more important than any team-unity or growth.  The Boss had ensured he could personally play in the game without any further resistance, even when that came at the price of the team. Go figure.

Zuckerberg’s Facebook (as portrayed in the movie) and many other fast-growing companies also reflect how they, like the game of Werewolf, reward a socially predatory system, revealing as much about the village (i.e. company culture) as about those willing to play and enable it. In Zuckerberg’s case, it was justifying the total betrayal of his oldest friend and Facebook co-founder with a “how could you let me do this to you?” defense. A Win By Lying strategy creates a Never Trust Anyone culture and this not a foundation on which you can build a collaborative team or company culture, regardless of the short term success it sometimes enjoys.

In my 20+ years of small business team leadership, coaching and participation, I have never seen a truly collaborative leader allow, much less encourage, this kind of “team” activity.  At best, the results are disruptively divisive; at worst, they are long-term destructive. (Et tu, Brutay?)

Leading from the front of a team (pulling) is a lot harder than from the back (pushing). Why?  Because Respect (pull) is an order of magnitude more work to create than Fear (push). As both consumers and creators, we are at our best when we reject these methods and companies. For me, I look forward to the day that I stop needing Facebook for my business and can abandon it (Go GooglePLUS!) because that’s the only way we ultimately get to vote against this kind of behavior in our world – with the currency of our attention.

jeff