1. Game Mechanics
The game secret hitler, also called secret Sith, organizes everyone in the game into two secret factions. It is a classic “bad guys” versus “good guys” game, similar to the mafia game we played in class. All the “bad guys” know each other’s identities, while the “good guys” do not know anyone else’s identity. The objective of the game is for the “good guys” to win by passing five laws for their party, or for the “bad guys” to win by passing six laws for their party.
However, there are also additional roles. The president is a rotating role that chooses the law to pass from two options, given out of three by the chancellor, who is voted on by the alive players. While it did not come up while I played, there are also term limits, such that the same chancellor cannot be elected twice in a row. Interestingly, if three or more “bad” policies have been passed, and the elected chancellor is the supreme bad guy (i.e. hitler), then the “bad guys” win the game.
Image from gameplay, shows two boards and cards on table.
Generally, the game felt similar to Mafia, but with more rules and complexity such that it was more engaging. The requirement to bluff and convince others to vote highlighted both my ability to be outspoken and the difficulty of bluffing. The game’s structure of opening and encouraging discussion and consensus forced these abilities, or lack of abilities, front and center. Mafia did as well, to some extent, except it did not force people to have outsized roles in the game.
If you were the mafia, you voted once in silence. If you were a townsfolk, you voted, and could actively discuss or remain relatively silent. In fact, if you were a townsfolk, it sometimes made sense to stay silent. The people who talk are the people who are noticed and top of mind in the beginning of the game to be eliminated before suspicion draws on others.
(Image credit: boardgamequest.com)
However, by assigning a rotating president, everyone has a chance to be the center of attention. In addition, they must defend their policy decision, and potentially draw suspicion upon themselves. The chancellor also is put in a similar position, and there is a natural debate between the chancellor and president when a bad law is passed, to assign blame. This mechanic of the game highlights people’s ability to be likeable and social.
2. Ethical Review
Furthermore, the game also heavily relies upon the ability of the “bad guys” to pretend to be good while advancing their agenda. On the flip side, for the “good guys” to win, they must become adept at discerning which of the players who pass bad legislation are bluffing about their role. This creates a paradigm where “lying” is rewarded. Does that create an ethical dilemma?
One can easily argue that lying as part of a game does not constitute a wrong action as long as the action is within expectations for the game. For instance, lying during a game about something unrelated to the game would likely be frowned upon. However, if the goal of the game is to bluff, bluffing is generally understood to be reasonable. Furthermore, it seems plausible that saying something false in a context where the expectation is that your statement very likely could be false is not the same as a true lie that is expected to be believed.
In the game, when I played it, lying was an expected objective of the game. One could argue it was not lying, but rather, bluffing, and that the difference exists in that distinction. The objective that occupied everyone’s minds was determining who was bluffing.
In fact, in the game’s instructions, it explicitly calls attention to this expectation:
“ABOUT LYING: Often, some players learn
things that the rest of the players
don’t know, like when the President and
Chancellor get to see Policy tiles, or
when a President uses the Investigate
power to see someone’s Party Membership
card. You can always lie about hidden
knowledge. The only time
players MUST tell the truth is in game ending scenarios”
And yet, bluffing feels like a form of lying. In fact, the instructions call it the same thing. Especially among friends, it seems reasonable to ponder if the game erodes social trust more than it develops it. If your friend, who was actually the “supreme bad guy”, was so good at pretending to be the “good guy”, what else are they pretending to be? The game creates an environment where the attempt to bluff is expected. However, it does not create an expectation for the skill of being good at bluffing.
This does not mean it is necessarily unethical to lie in the game. It does, however, mean that the game may carry a social cost. Interestingly, this cost likely depends upon who you play with. I was not playing with close friends. They were people I had mostly not met before. Thus, I actually felt the game increased the social connection we had, because we were starting from a level of zero trust. The connection built from shared laughs and challenges was significant. Furthermore, when you are one of the “good guys”, you feel a connection to the other “good guys” – and likewise between the “bad guys”. I felt this while playing. I joked with the other players, and we joked about suspicions (“he seems suspicious over there!”, “what if it is you!”). Overall, I enjoyed playing the game, though the density of required bluffing definitely raised thought-provoking questions about the impact.
