Social deduction games are an interesting case of fair play as every player goes in with different skill levels and goals, which can sometimes lead to unsatisfying outcomes.
With games of ruse, trust, and betrayal, player unpredictability is a core tenet, adding excitement and variability to gameplay. However, unpredictability is often heightened in groups of players with varying skill levels and mindsets, reflecting the broader social dynamics beyond the game itself. Having played a number of process of elimination social deduction games (Secret Hitler, Among Us, One Night Ultimate Werewolf, Mafia, etc.), I’ve encountered diverse strategies, gameplay styles, and player psychology. While I mostly agree with Robinson’s notion of “emergent fiction crafted by the game designer” in RTBs, where players “pursue goals at the behest of a designer, following that designer’s rules, and procedurally generating fiction in parallel,” it assumes that unpredictable players will adhere to socially expected rules. Sometimes players, from lack of experience/knowledge of the game or just love of pure chaos, throw a wrench in this expectation of predictable unpredictability, introducing another layer of complexity to the ruse, trust, and betrayal and/or ruining intended mechanics.
In Werewolf, players must employ various levels of ruse, trust, and betrayal to achieve conflicting goals outlined by the game developer. Lying or revealing partial truths about one’s character is a common tactic (ruse). For characters like the Seer, it is recommended to pretend you are a regular villager for as long as possible, as revealing yourself might get you killed, putting the werewolves at a significant advantage. Playing as the werewolf necessitates ruse, requiring players to convincingly blend in with the villagers while subtly manipulating information to their advantage, like picking unclaimed roles with flexible interpretations to be more convincing than others. Trust in other players’ narratives becomes essential due to the voting aspect, leading to betrayal when the convincing ruse and misplaced trust are uncovered. That expectation of play however falls through when at least one player doesn’t like rules.
Part of RTB’s predictable unpredictability is understanding that there are competing goals and every player will strategize in their best interest. Where Robinson’s theory of game designers being the ultimate arbiters of the emergent narrative falls apart is with these rogue players that do not have their best interest in mind, either by chaotically sabotaging themselves and their team’s goal of winning or by misunderstanding what their role/strategy should be to accomplish said best interest.
Starting with the chaos players, no matter how rigid, constricted, or freeing the rules of the game are, part of playing with human opponents is that they have a mind of their own. The game expects that you would want to tell mostly truths to be trustworthy and deduce your teammates to further the collective strategy, but some lone wolves have other plans. I’ve seen this many instances with Secret Hitler, where players who are bored of being liberal will play openly fascist, thus confusing their teammates and the actual fascists, creating an extra challenge for everyone else. Werewolf is no different. Players may reveal they are werewolves, whether they are or not, and tell their fellow players to do with that information what they will, offering no other explanation. They may claim false roles despite having their own, just for the fun of it. That way, even though they have a logical alibi, they are now untrustworthy and presumed to be guilty werewolves because this radical plan was not fully thought out like we would expect of a strategy. They may also just go completely off script and not play their role, either choosing not to do the action that they have to at night, doing someone else’s actions which is not allowed, or refusing to ever check their role at all. Technically, there is nothing binding players to rules, especially soft mechanics, but it upsets the structure agreed upon by all other players, and out of the collective desire to have fun playing a game together, a player like this could be kicked out of the group for “ruining the game.”
On the other hand, while not as frustrating as a player purposefully introducing chaos, it’s also just as likely that an inexperienced player may not play their role correctly out of confusion, adding a different layer of uncertainty. Each night, the players with roles must complete their actions as dictated by the game designer. I’ve seen many occasions where players, usually newer to the game, were not paying attention during the “nighttime” where everyone’s eyes are closed and either missed their turn, forgot their role so they didn’t do anything, or even worse, opened their eyes when they weren’t supposed to, ruining the mystery and forcing us to start over. You cannot fault players like this, especially as some fault is on the more experienced players to properly explain the rules and strategies, but it is frustrating nonetheless for those invested in the gameplay and expect a level of crafted uncertainty versus accidental failure to produce the unexpected. Just like in detective novels, it is unsatisfying to have information revealed because of an accident or coincidence. Newer players also often contribute less, leading to their being left out of the vigorous back-and-forth that is the entire excitement of the gameplay and unlikely to play again later to get better. Alternatively, this lack of experience can be used to your advantage, claiming that you are not as aware of the strategies you have indeed employed. This was my excuse for most Among Us sessions, both a partial truth that I was new and unaware of the layout and a ruse to go undetected. Werewolf is similar in that sometimes it helps to be quiet to avoid suspicion, and a new player can do that, while those more experienced are expected to be more clever in their social game.
All of these factors need to be taken into consideration during social deduction games. Usually, everyone plays as expected, providing or withholding information to achieve their goals. Rarely are players so inept or chaotic that it completely ruins gameplay, and sometimes it spices up the monotony of predictable unpredictability, but this does lend to the idea that all games are confined to their play session. So I partially agree with Robinson that game developers craft an expected unexpected experience for players to build up within themselves, but for every rule there is a rule breaker, purposeful or not. In this way, players are the ultimate generator of deductive fictions because game rules are only a guide and the accepted laws are socially determined. A game can be very enjoyable or completely ruined based on who you trust to sit down with you, after all, the most satisfying part of a game of ruse, trust, and betrayal is not properly deducing or concealing identities but playing in accordance with what is socially acceptable. Unpredictable players create their own fictions, but they need a group to create a larger narrative within a game.
– Lia
Intermittent Mechanism 