The amazingly simple lesson on conflict management from The Traitors

For a long time, I tried to avoid being swept along in the hysteria of BBC's The Traitors. Having finally relented, I am now, predictably, slightly obsessed with the show that manages to turn a group of broadly respectable and intelligent participants into a rabble-rousing band of thirteenth-century peasants, accusing each other of witchcraft at the smallest provocation.

Still, if I had to choose any human being in the world to deliver me bad news, it would be Claudia Winkleman.

Watching it as someone who manages conflict for a living, two things struck me about the game dynamic: first, how quickly suspicion takes hold; and second, how little evidence it needs. One tiny spark inflames a gigantic wildfire. More often than not, suspicion is founded on nothing more than a character assessment, the inconvenience of evidence being skipped altogether. How many times did we hear someone at the round table proclaim another was a traitor because “they would be good at it”, or “they’re very clever”?

That’s something the visionaries who created the show — surely well-versed as they were in Game Theory — understood and exploited. They created a game that doesn't generally reward reasonaing, but relies on the flow of an entiely different currency: the power of enlisting.

~

Enlisting is the fuel of conflict. It works like this. A person forms a view — perhaps about another person, or a situation — and they express it. Once they express it enough times (twice is usually sufficient), a narrative forms. But as social creatures, we strive to stabilise our self-image. We want validation. And so we look for allies to enlist to our cause.

It happens subtly. A quiet word by the coffee machine. Some muttering under the breath. Sometimes nothing more than a look. Any slight gesture that appears to signal agreement reinforces the story. And the person so signalling, even if they hadn’t meant to, is suddenly and tacitly enlisted.

At that point, the issue is less about being right, and more about the desperation not to be wrong. The accusation becomes unfalsifiable.

~

But this is not irrational behaviour. We naturally seek out people who share our views. It’s why we spend so much time in social-media echo chambers, addicted to the rush of having our values mirrored back to us — much like the mythological Greek hunter Narcissus, cursed to fall in love with his own reflection.

The game is rigged. Engineered so the only way through is to form alliances based on the thinnest narrative imaginable. Tanks made of paper. The Traitors shows, with alarming clarity, just how easily those alliances form, and how quickly facts and logic are abandoned in favour of a shared sense of identity. The comfort of kinship. Allies make conflict feel safer — and harder to undo.

~

Effective conflict management is about disrupting that pattern, and (crucially) to understand the difference between empathy and sympathy. People need to be listeners (empathy), not validators (sympathy). Understanding that distinction is the difference between management and leadership. You can’t change a person’s identity, but you may be able to change their role. The Traitors is engineered to make that difficult; organisations have more of a choice.

At some point over the next week, I am willing to bet that someone will try to enlist you to a cause. It might be something innocuous. It might be the start of the next big conflict. Either way, resist the temptation to nod along distractedly. Do both of you a favour: be curious, be respectful, be empathetic. Don’t just tell them what they want to hear.

Sometimes the most damaging thing you can do in a conflict is agree too quickly. It’s why faithfuls are banished, witches are burnt at the stake, and workplace grievances keep landing in your in-tray.