What do you mean lying is good for building trust in relationships?

As Oppenheimer would say: It can't but it is, it's paradoxical and yet it works. Lying can, in fact, build trust in relationships under an unusual and very specific circumstance.

As human beings, we're inherently social creatures. Social interactions are at the core of contributing factors when it comes to mental health and emotional well-being. Engaging with friends and loved ones is vital to reducing feelings of loneliness and isolation.

Trust forms a key foundation of enriching and successful relationships. It creates a safe environment where individuals feel secure enough to share their thoughts, feelings, and vulnerabilities without fear of judgment or betrayal. It stands to reason then, that realising you've been lied to is often shocking, and damaging to a relationship.

The sense of security that once existed may be replaced with doubt and suspicion, causing individuals to question not only the specific instance of deceit but also the overall integrity of the relationship.

So how on earth could lying actually build trust in the long term?

The Special Context: Social Bluffing Games

Scott and Rachel size each other up during "Monster Hunt", Folklore's flagship social bluffing game.

The answer lies within the intricate dynamics of social bluffing games, which becomes a fascinating microcosm of human interaction. Games like Folklore's Monster Hunt and Hollywood Masquerade, or Werewolf and Mafia create a clearly defined environment of "play," where the rules are understood and accepted by all participants. In these contexts, bluffing becomes a necessary tactic for both "good" and "evil" players.

Lying within the framework of these games transforms into a vulnerable and trust-affirming act that challenges our conventional understanding of honesty and deception.

Why?

Because there is no situation in a social bluffing game where someone who is lying won't be caught out in their lie at some point. Whether during the course of the game or at the climactic moment of announcing the winner, the liar will inevitably be exposed. This adds a layer of complexity to the act of lying; players are acutely aware that their deceit will be uncovered.

How Controlled Deception is Good for Building Trust In Relationships

Therefore, by agreeing to enter into this social contract—lying while fully aware of the exposure and the accompanying criticism to come—becomes a generous act. Not only is the liar contributing to the shared experience of the game, they are effectively sign posting to the group "This is what it looks like when I lie."

This transparency is remarkably intimate—it's like showing your tells, your micro-expressions, and your nervous habits when attempting deception. Few actions require more vulnerability than willingly demonstrating how you behave when being dishonest. It fosters an environment where participants can engage in playful deception without the weight of real-world repercussions.

Building Trust Through Shared Vulnerability

When participants witness a lie being told and subsequently exposed, they gain insights into the nature of deception itself. They learn to navigate the fine line between truth and falsehood, developing a nuanced perspective on trust that extends beyond the game.

This dynamic creates what psychologists might call "calibrated trust"—not a naive belief that others will never lie, but a sophisticated understanding of when and how deception might occur.

The Paradoxical Result

Ultimately, the experience of lying in social bluffing games can lead to stronger interpersonal connections. As players navigate the complexities of deceit together, they engage in a form of collective problem-solving, where understanding and empathy are cultivated. The recognition that everyone is capable of lying—and that such acts can be part of a playful, agreed-upon framework—allows for a richer exploration of human behaviour.

This shared experience simultaneously entertains and lays the groundwork for trust to flourish in the long term. Players learn to appreciate the intricacies of honesty, deception, and the social contracts that bind them together. Like Oppenheimer's paradox, the controlled deception in social deduction games shouldn't build trust—but somehow, it does.