Using Tomorrow's Headlines for Today's Training: Creating Pseudo‐reality in Conflict Resolution Simulation Games

It seems almost unnecessary to note the degree to which conflict resolution trainers rely upon the use of simulation games as training tools. The literature singles out simulation games as a particularly effective method of education in negotiation (Meerts 1991; Winham 1991), mediation (Moore 2003), and peace building (Truger 2001). This, combined with legislation making simulation games a mandatory element of professional training in several countries,¹ merely reinforces what conflict resolution trainers have known all along: practice makes perfect. Successes, as well as failures, occurring in a controlled, debriefed environment enable the most efficient learning process.

The past three decades have witnessed a great deal of research on simulation gaming, its pedagogical advantages (Boocock and Schild 1968; Dukes and Seidner 1978; Raser 1969), its design (Elder 1973; Greenblat and Duke 1981; Taylor and Walford 1978; Yefimov and Komarov 1982), its debriefing (Peters and Vissers 2004), and its evaluation (Druckman 1995). The field of simulation gaming has developed its own journals² as well as directories categorizing and evaluating the thousands of simulation games available (Horn and Cleaves 1981).

Simulation games enable several types of learning, depending on the purpose of the simulation's initiator. The educational simulation, on which we focus here, is one of the four types in J. Barton Cunningham's (1984) typological scheme of experimental, predictive, evaluative, and educational simulation games. The educational simulation game may be oriented toward content, with the aim of enhancing knowledge, or directed toward processes, with the aim of enhancing skills. The method introduced in this article is designed for use in educational simulation games oriented toward conflict resolution processes, with the goal of enhancing participants’ negotiation and third‐party intervention skills.

Concurrent with the development of simulation game study, the field of conflict resolution training has also evolved rapidly, and extensive research, trainers’“best practice” descriptions, training curricula, and teaching materials have appeared in many formats.³ The field's widespread use of the educational, skills‐oriented, or process‐oriented simulation games as a training tool has sparked research and writing on the subject. Some of this literature focuses on refining the design process of simulation games for use in conflict resolution training. Much of this design‐oriented literature tends to focus on the gaming element (i.e., structuring the rules, measuring or comparing the outcomes, and even assigning grades based on them). Fewer writers discuss in depth what might be referred to as the simulation element, which would focus on how to construct a model of reality that helps achieve educational goals (i.e., achieving a dynamic, realistic setting in which the participant can act comfortably), which is the element with which we are concerned in this article. It could also be argued that some of the research (for example, that dealing with business negotiations)⁴ may have limited applicability to the wider conflict resolution field, substantially reducing the amount of available material on the design and implementation of conflict resolution simulation games.

Conflict resolution theory has benefited greatly from the use of experimental simulation games to explore individual and group responses to conflict‐filled situations, and some research has examined the design of such experimental processes (Druckman 1971). However, the design process of educational simulation games for conflict resolution training purposes has largely been neglected, and it seems that no theoretical models or paradigms have been developed for designing what is, in practice, the field's leading training tool. Successful models would be those designed to incorporate the knowledge gained in simulation game study into the unique dynamics and frameworks familiar in negotiation or mediation simulation games. We propose that developing such models through increased writing, analysis, discussion, and refinement would enable taking conflict resolution training — and with it, practitioners’ abilities and skills — to the next level.⁵ While this article does not purport to be a comprehensive theoretical elaboration of this subject, it could certainly serve to trigger one. In this article, we seek largely to highlight this theoretical marriage between the fields of conflict resolution training and simulation gaming, and to present a practical example of the benefits to be derived from exploring it.

One question raised in the literature on educational simulation gaming concerns the optimal proximity of the simulation scenario to real‐life scenarios. The pertinence of this issue is obvious in the case of educational simulations oriented toward content, in which a greater fidelity to reality enhances not only the credibility of the scenario but also the validity and transferability of the acquired knowledge.⁶ In the case of educational simulation games oriented toward process and skills, on the other hand, a different set of considerations accounts for the relevance of this question.

The reality‐proximity question is of extreme importance in conflict resolution training, perhaps to an even greater degree than in other contexts, because the reality that informs these situations can often be emotionally difficult and stressful for participants. Participants are asked to play the roles of conflicting parties, which can demand a great degree of personal and emotional involvement. This involves expressive identification with the role being played, as opposed to simpler contexts for whose purposes instrumental identification — going through it by rote — is considered adequate (Dukes and Seidner 1978: 18). Whether a simulation game centers on divorce, warring nations, or fighting in schools, participants are asked for personal investments that they may find difficult to make; the more “real” the situation is, the more challenging it can be to promote learning.

Conflict resolution trainers often find themselves deliberating whether to use real‐life situations for their simulated conflicts or to cast participants into fictional roles and situations. In addition to the obvious advantages of using a scenario borrowed from reality, such as content familiarity, time saved on preparation, empowerment (because of the ability participants have within the role play to bring about change in real‐life situations), and greater motivation (because the scenario is more relevant and often more exciting), the use of reality‐based scenarios is sometimes dictated by the nature of the workshop, its context, and the expectations of the host organization.

Questions regarding proximity to reality in simulation games need to be incorporated not only into the building of the different roles in the abstract but also into our appraisal of the particular participants’ ability to express and explore themselves within those roles, in the context of any particular simulation game used in any particular workshop.

When conducting workshops using reality‐based simulation games, we have often found that reality itself — or the student's perception of reality — is so powerful that it defies even the best scripted simulation scenario a workshop can offer. Some participants simply cannot distance themselves from their own opinions, experiences, and prejudices, in order to “live” the character or scenario required by the simulation game to the degree necessary for the learning process. When this occurs, at best, the individual participant's personal learning experience is partial; at worst, an entire workshop can become derailed.

Of course, it is next to impossible and often unnecessary to design simulation games in a way that takes into account all likely personal biases. However, the potential danger of workshop deterioration increases when the simulation game centers on a situation about which many or all of the participants may have powerful preconceptions, such as an issue that is important to participants in their real lives or one that has been widely covered by the media for an extended period of time. Examples of such issues include workplace mediation of sexual harassment complaints, or consensus building on corporate reorganization issues that might result in job losses.

To overcome these difficulties, several training methods have been developed. Some focus on altering particular participants’roles against a given factual backdrop; others focus on changing the factual backdrop in order to ease participants’ role assumption. Under the category of role adaptation, one popular method is to allow each participant to play a role with which he or she feels comfortable because it is close to his or her own point of view.⁷ For example, roles may be cast according to participants’ substantive views on abortion in a simulation game dealing with a community mediation regarding the operation of an abortion clinic in a suburban neighborhood. However, in practice, this method often deteriorates into argumentativeness: participants often cannot take the necessary step back, remember their training, and practice their skills. When the purpose of the workshop is skill building and not knowledge gaining, trainers are able, in such a case, to make a very salient point regarding the difficulty of effectively negotiating or mediating an issue with which one highly identifies, but this is only one achievement, and higher‐priority workshop goals might remain unattained.

Another approach entails role reversal (Greenblat and Duke 1981: 67): everybody plays a role foreign to his or her own personal position. For example, in the abortion clinic simulation game, this method would cast those participants who have pro‐choice tendencies into the roles of right‐to‐lifers and vice versa. When it works, this method enables substantial insight into the other's point of view; it does not, however, necessarily lead to insights regarding the use of skills to promote such a transformation in actual situations. In addition, this method has its own process difficulties that manifest themselves in participant reactions that include overplaying a role ad absurdum (perhaps because of an unconscious desire to sabotage it), not participating with conviction, and completely dissociating from the scenario and from the learning experience.

Under the category of situation adaptation methods, one commonly used method is what might be called “metaphor;” that is, the substitution of one issue or conflict for another. An example of using this method would be to engross Israeli and Palestinian diplomats in simulating the Northern Ireland conflict. But because the metaphorical nature of the situation is often transparent, many problems related to role identification and participation investment can arise here as well.

In summary, many of the problems inherent in the use of real‐life–based situations for the purposes of simulation gaming in conflict resolution training are related to issues of participant role relationship: under‐ or overidentification and conflicts caused by temporarily substituting one's natural ego with an artificial character. All of these problems can potentially sabotage the participants’ training.

The popular method of simulating “real‐life” situations based on “real facts,” while perhaps valuable when the main training goal is to gain substantive knowledge of the conflict, is potentially hazardous for simulation games focused on skill building. We will now introduce what we call the “pseudo‐reality” method of constructing conflict resolution simulation games. The goal of this method is to create a backdrop against which participants engage in negotiation and mediation skill building using real‐life events and facts, but only so far as these events and facts are helpful to the learning process and without the hampering side effects that arise from participants’ prior views or biases toward a topic. This method, to be used in designing conflict resolution workshops in which skill building is the main goal, borrows from both of the reality‐adapting categories defined above; primarily, it focuses on adapting the factual backdrop, but, when suitable, individual roles are also adapted.

Although many workshop designers and trainers may already use this method to some degree, whether intuitively or by design, we think it proper to systematically elaborate on it. In light of the evolution of the conflict resolution training workshop over the past few decades through a step‐by‐step honing of the art of workshop design and conduct, there is certainly benefit to be gained by casting a spotlight on this method, conceptualizing it, pointing out its advantages and applications, and enabling its conscious and informed use.

At its heart, the pseudo‐reality method is based on the premise that reality serves an essential purpose in creating what we call situational familiarity. Reality can mediate between the participants and the scenario. This situational familiarity lends the participant a degree of comfort and security in her role and in the scenario, and, if the subject is important to the participant, can also empower her by making her feel that she can actually make a difference. However, this familiarity, when taken too far, can cause the participant to lose touch with the skills being practiced, with her role, and often with the trainer. As described above, a participant's over‐ or underidentification with her role and with the views she thinks should be held by her character can cause her to feel intense inner dissonance, which can halt her own learning process and even the entire group’s. Therefore, the degree of situational familiarity must be finely tuned to maximize comfort while minimizing the pressures that hamper full and effective participation.

Pseudo‐reality is a method of attaining this optimal situational familiarity through the monitoring of the introduction of distressing facts or dynamics. Training with the pseudo‐reality method entails placing participants in situations in which they feel comfortable and making sure that any discomfort caused by the role‐playing will not go so far as to disrupt the learning experience.

Like any method of using reality‐based settings for training purposes, the pseudo‐reality method begins by taking a basic story and utilizing its proximity to the participants’ interests or environment to attain situational familiarity. However, the pseudo‐reality scenario is not limited or bound to a historically correct portrayal of events or data. Beyond the minimum juxtaposition with reality necessary for situational familiarity, reality is modified: facts are added or altered in ways that aid the role‐playing process without damaging the general framework. This modification occurs both during the design stage and throughout the duration of the game. The departure from reality is not subtly executed. On the contrary, participants should be explicitly instructed that they are taking part in an unreal situation, familiar and lifelike though it may seem. Just as the proximity to reality lends the simulation familiarity, relevance, and legitimacy, its fantastic elements and fictional story line add to the participants’ comfort. Because the simulated experience is distanced from real life, the participants’ identity issues and core beliefs are not unwittingly mobilized, which allows for the rational application of acquired knowledge and skills rather than instinctive reactions. The better the balance between fiction and truth, between pseudo‐reality and actual reality, the higher the level of situational familiarity and comfort attained — and the greater the potential for effective training.

The pseudo‐reality model is intended for the design and conduct of simulation games in training situations in which a “catch 22” quandary seems to prevail: (1) a reality‐based scenario is, pedagogically, the best method for achieving training goals, or the use of such a scenario is dictated by a host organization; but (2) precise fidelity to reality could sabotage the workshop's learning potential.

One example of a training situation where we have applied the pseudo‐reality method is an online simulation of a negotiation for the lives of hostages taken in Iraq conducted during the height of a wave of real‐life abductions. Another is a parliamentary coalition‐building simulation that was conducted on the eve of a real‐life crucial election causing deep societal rift. Further examples include simulation games dealing with racial tensions or ideological disputes, conducted with participants who have actually been in the midst of such conflicts.

Our conclusions in this section, as well as the development of the simulation‐game‐designing model proposed in the next, are based on the sum of these experiences, and have been formed employing the following two‐level evaluation methodology in all of the workshops: (1) summarizing a given simulation game's training goals, the trainer's preworkshop concerns and intentions, his instructions to participants, and his decisions and actions throughout the simulation game's course; and (2) assessing the effects of the chosen simulation game on the participants, in terms of their participation, investment, actions, skill enhancement, and satisfaction.

These effects were measured, before, during, and after the simulation game's course, by means of: (1) meetings with representatives of the workshop's host organization (when relevant); (2) one‐on‐one conversations with participants, both initiated and incidental; (3) group discussions and debriefing sessions held both in small groups and in general assemblies with all the workshop's participants and staff; (4) trainers’ observations of immediate application of acquired skills; (5) preparation, monitoring, feedback, and debriefing sessions held with group leaders and training staff; and (6) written reports and feedback from participants and training staff. With all of these assessment tools, specific attention was paid to issues pertaining to the participants’ comfort in the simulation game environment, the effect of the chosen degree of fidelity and reality‐proximity, and the effectiveness of the game in achieving training goals.

Much remains to be learned about how to evaluate the effectiveness of learning through simulation games (Druckman 1995); the best way to evaluate a specific method of simulation game design is, admittedly, even trickier. However, this method of examining trainers’ intentions and observations as well as participants’ reflections and reports has demonstrated the effectiveness of using the pseudo‐reality method in developing the skills of negotiation and mediation trainees.

We recently designed and conducted a workshop using the pseudo‐reality method at The Institute for International Mediation and Conflict Resolution's (IIMCR) 2004 Middle East Symposium on Negotiation and Conflict Resolution. This symposium convened participants in Cyprus from some twenty‐five countries to study conflict resolution in the Middle East and to acquire generally applicable conflict resolution skills. Many of the participants had backgrounds in conflict resolution, international relations, or peace studies. Prior to the workshop, all participants underwent negotiation and mediation training, and studied the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, reading extensively on the subject and attending lectures by prominent actors in the various phases of the ongoing peace process.

We had been asked to design a workshop with an emphasis on advanced skill building, centering on a simulation game set against the background of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict. Our experience has taught us that, regardless of where they come from, many people have deeply held views about the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, about who is right, who is wrong, and what the solution should be. This is especially true for people whose academic or professional backgrounds touch on the subject. The situation was potentially even further charged by the fact that the participants included Palestinians and Israelis, Moslems and Jews.

Faced with the challenge of conducting a workshop in a framework inherently dangerous to its own success, we chose to use the pseudo‐reality method, which has proved useful in similar situations. The simulation game we designed for the workshop centered on the long‐standing reality with which the participants had become intimately familiar, but was still, in essence, fictional. The simulation game's story line was not unfeasible— on the contrary, as the workshop progressed, the story line we manufactured often seemed to be a prophecy of the headlines of the next day's newspapers, but it was nonetheless fictional. More important, the participants knew it was fictional.

The simulation game's story line cast the participants into the roles of Israeli and Palestinian negotiators, working together with American mediators. But it diverged from this well‐worn scenario in two important ways. It did so first in its factual basis: the story line depicted an almost totally fictional scenario (at the time), an Israeli decision to unilaterally withdraw from a limited area of the West Bank. Moderate elements on both sides decided to attempt reaching bilateral agreements on issues they foresaw as pertaining to the withdrawal and its aftermath. These moderates appointed unofficial delegates who were role‐played by the workshop participants and sent them to meet secretly in Nicosia, Cyprus (hence the simulation game's title, The Nicosia Channel), promising them that any agreements they reached would be imposed on the national leaders through the exercise of political force. Simultaneously, an Israeli military incursion into a Palestinian city was taking place, lending yet another measure of urgency to the negotiations.

The simulation also diverged from the authentic conflict in its scope. One of the focal pseudo‐realities created by the scenario of The Nicosia Channel was that it dictated that the participants attempt to solve only a defined portion of the entire conflict. While this has often proved impossible to achieve in reality, where linkage and log‐rolling are central negotiating tactics, the use of pseudo‐reality to create a limited negotiating arena gave participants the opportunity to deal with a potentially manageable part of the conflict.

The information packets provided to the participants regarding the factual backdrop, the role they were assigned to play, and their party's interests were reinforced with props such as (almost) real maps and official documents. This material led them to discuss such potentially real but fictionally based issues as the evacuation of Israeli settlements and military bases, the handover of powers in evacuated areas, the containment of militia groups, security arrangements, and the erection of a security wall.

Although the background facts and the conflict scope were adapted, we chose to preserve those elements of reality that could aid participants to form situational familiarity. Echoing the old adage “If it's not broke, don’t fix it,” we suggest that “When reality works, use it.” One good example of this was the preservation of the tempo or pace of events in the real‐life Palestinian–Israeli conflict and in the negotiations aiming to resolve it. Parties sit down at the table with the knowledge that an external violent event might suddenly intrude into the negotiations, changing or ending them in a way difficult to foresee. To preserve this element of reality, we initiated interruptions and sudden scenario changes. For example, information was passed into the room announcing the killing of a Palestinian spiritual leader/inciter of terrorism (depending on the side of the table you sat). This had happened in reality before and could well happen again. Its occurrence in pseudo‐reality not only caused a (pseudo‐real) Palestinian walkout, it also left both parties expecting that, at any moment, another interruption would bring news of a Palestinian suicide bomber on an Israeli street or bus. Although this did not take place, the very supposition that it might occur often affected the negotiation dynamic in a profound way, enabling the participants to experience the way in which negotiations are often overtaken by events and to develop skills and processes for coping with this possibility. For example, one group reached an interim procedural “no‐walkout” agreement; in another group, the mediators assumed a more forceful role, controlling the flow of external information to the table to prevent the expected external incident from disrupting the negotiations.

Openly declaring the scenario fictional relieved most of the participants’ need to feel and express their personal opinions on the real conflict, thus freeing them to concentrate on using and improving their negotiation and mediation skills. Having spent the previous week hashing and rehashing the reality of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict and investing in forming, reinforcing, or defending a personal opinion regarding it, participants seemed almost eager to sideline these opinions and take a step away from them. Participants acting as mediators commented that they were surprised at the degree to which they were able to maintain neutrality, given their strong substantive views on the subject; other participants playing the role of negotiators commented that they felt they could have played either party with equal comfort, as they did not feel that they were attempting to settle the “real” conflict.

On the other hand, the feasibility of the story line (quite a few of the pseudo‐facts actually crossed the line from fiction to reality in the days and weeks following the workshop), reinforced by realistic props and coupled with the participants’ own substantive knowledge regarding the actual conflict, lent it credibility, which Charles Elder has dubbed the “primary requisite” for educational simulation games (Elder 1973: 338). This credibility assisted participants, psychologically and intellectually, to enter the pseudo‐reality atmosphere to an extent greater than usual, identifying closely with their assigned roles and investing themselves heavily in the simulation game. For example, one participant playing the role of a Hamas freedom fighter, which is quite distant from his real life, took initiatives beyond his gaming instructions, issuing ultimatums and threats of violence if his demands were not met; others assumed names they considered suitable for their characters and insisted on being addressed by these names for the entire two‐day period. Many participants spent their free time “in role” to a large degree, although they were not instructed to do so; mealtimes saw some negotiating teams sitting as groups, separated from their counterparts, and mediators eating their meals on the run while table hopping between them.

Use of pseudo‐reality served an additional, important purpose in the context of this workshop. Composing a real scenario or an authentic set of facts is impossible in this conflict, in which every factual or historical detail of the past is fiercely debated by the parties. Coming from Israel, we risked being seen as biased if we offered participants a set of “real” facts, which could have generated a crisis of trust between the trainers and the participants. Our use of pseudo‐reality enabled us to avoid this problem. We did not claim anything was truth — on the contrary, we stressed that the situation was fictional.

Furthermore, the conscious use of fiction enabled participants to play an entirely new game, and they often elaborated their roles and the general pseudo‐reality story line with pseudo‐facts of their own, enhancing the pseudo‐reality environment. The ability to bend reality and change the rules of the playing field was, in effect, one of the criteria we had established for the simulation game from its start. Thus, the pseudo‐reality method helped to minimize the resistance that groups sometimes have to playing out “the same old game” of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict, knowing it has been done hundreds of times before. A recurring theme in oral and written feedback reports was that the feeling of newness involved in a fictional but possible situation broke through the “been there, done that” barrier and promoted learning. Several participants were at first reluctant to commit to the simulation environment, stating that based on other Israeli–Palestinian simulation games in which they had participated in the past (to say nothing of their knowledge of current events), the conflict was unsolvable. We observed that, as the unique characteristics of the pseudo‐reality scenario revealed themselves, these participants became active and engrossed. If they had chosen not to participate because the scenario mirrored their past experience, they would have missed out on this opportunity to improve their conflict resolution skills.

Role identification was certainly a challenging issue. Clearly, someone identifying herself as a peace builder might have difficulties shouldering the role of a terrorist while someone who calls himself a human rights activist might be uncomfortable in the role of an occupying soldier or settler. Nonetheless, the pseudo‐reality setting allowed us to deal with most of these issues in ways that ultimately benefited the workshop. Some Palestinian participants role‐played Israeli settlers, and Israelis played the roles of Palestinian villagers. Others played roles similar to their real‐life identities. This depended wholly on the participant's degree of comfort with the role. When a participant was deeply uncomfortable with his role, we encouraged him either to switch with another participant or to rewrite the content of his role in a way that made him more comfortable with it — all in the interest of resolving any internal dissonance that might hamper the learning process. One striking indication of the effectiveness of the pseudo‐ reality scenario was the frequency with which participants specifically chose role reversal, requesting to play roles diametrically opposed to their real‐life personas. These participants, like others in similar simulations, reported that they were surprised by the degree to which they were able to play out these “foreign” roles comfortably and with little inner turmoil.

The Nicosia Channel simulation game demonstrates how pseudo‐ reality enabled the workshop to succeed in building skills, despite the complex environment in which it was held and the potentially volatile effects of simulating this particular real‐life situation. Other simulations prepared and conducted using this method have mirrored the outcomes we have described here.

By identifying recurring trends through the evaluation methods detailed above, we have learned that using pseudo‐reality in simulation game design and conduct can help trainers achieve several worthwhile training goals. By using pseudo‐reality, trainers can:

1. engage participants in the process by placing them in an environment that is both familiar and new;

2. separate people from their long‐held views, opinions, and beliefs for the period of time necessary for the learning process to occur;

3. distinguish between the substantive study of an issue and its use as a backdrop for skill building;

4. fine‐tune a simulation game's degree of tension as it plays out, connecting the participants to the story and to the negotiation dynamic;

5. avoid negative trainer–group dynamics; and

6. lend a sense of newness, innovation, and optimism to the process, motivating the participants to active self‐investment.

In our experience, many of the difficulties that arise in reality‐based simulation games stem from the complex nature of this training tool. After identifying some of the common problems we have discussed in this article, we developed a simulation game design process that we believe will prevent such problems while still maximizing the benefits of situational familiarity.

The general simulation game literature offers extensive guidance on the issue of systematic simulation game design, including suggestions for conceptual stages as well as step‐by‐step tutorials (Greenblat and Duke 1981; McKenny 1967; Taylor and Walford 1978; Yefimov and Komarov 1982). One may find in these models caveats or tips regarding the complexities attendant upon closely simulating reality (Livingstone and Stoll 1973). However, no detailed and comprehensive strategy for dealing with the potential pitfalls of the complexities of a particular method, such as the pseudo‐reality method proposed in this article, has been suggested.

Our proposed design model builds on the general simulation game design literature. It applies this general knowledge to the specific complexities arising from the use of reality‐based simulation games in the field of conflict resolution, by providing a specific set of design instructions, using the pseudo‐reality method. The model is in effect a composite and incorporates specific skill‐building pedagogic techniques and ideas, some well‐established and some original, into the general simulation game designing structure. We offer the model to others for their use in designing and conducting their own reality‐based simulation games.

Trainers and simulation game designers who seek to use a reality‐based scenario rather than a fictional one can benefit from the use of the pseudo‐ reality method by following these steps in designing and implementing simulation games.

Having chosen a real‐life subject and situation, consider the following issues:

1. What do the participants know about the subject? Are they well‐versed in it, or will they need extensive orientation? The subject may be complex, and it is important to consider how best to convey factual background information within the given time constraints.

2. Might all or some of the participants have strong views on the subject? Consider how this might affect both the course of the simulation game and the achievement of the workshop's goals.

3. Do you know enough about the subject to write a comprehensive scenario based on it? Examine yourself for strong partisan views on the subject. Might these find expression in a biased framing of the situation? Consider how this could affect the trainer–participant dynamic.

4. How does the scope of the conflict situation you are describing fit in the framework of this specific workshop? Complex, multi‐issue, and multiparty conflicts might be too wide to be dealt with. Identify specific issues that might create any of the problems mentioned in the previous questions. Can they be isolated and erased from the scenario?

5. At what pace do events overtake one another in the real‐life situation? Decide whether preserving this tempo is constructive in terms of the participants’ ability to deal with it and in terms of their appreciation of the complexity of the situation.

Once you have isolated the potential pitfalls particular to your chosen situation, you can begin designing the simulation game to avoid them by entering the world of pseudo‐reality. If the general components of the chosen story do not raise any of the problems listed above, start with them as your framework. If you view them as potentially problematic, on the other hand, try and change them. One technique for changing a background story's direction is to first consider the story and then to ask yourself: “What, theoretically, could tomorrow's headline be on this subject?” Do not look for what you think will be the headline, but rather what it could be, in a parallel universe. Use this as the baseline of your story. You will find that most of the background facts remain relatively unchanged, but their relevance in the new pseudo‐reality might be different than it was before.

Provide additional facts that develop and reinforce the new pseudo‐reality story line, and perhaps use a few props: newspaper clippings, videotaped news reports, or specially altered maps that are compatible with the pseudo‐reality you have now created. This will reinforce the aura of reality. Do not disregard the power of small details to support pseudo‐reality, such as having a participant's nametag embossed with the logo of the company or the flag of the country he is representing. Use written group and personal instructions to aid participants to build themselves an alternate identity that does not negate their real one but perhaps relaxes some of its restraints.

Careful planning of the simulation game's actual time line could be the key to both preserving the optimal degree of pseudo‐reality and to running the simulation smoothly and effectively. When doing so, build in elements designed to maintain pseudo‐reality by preplanning moments in which you will intervene specifically for the sake of maintaining pseudo‐reality, such as surprising the participants with a news flash — even if the content of the simulation does not actually require that new information be generated. Deciding ahead of time on the degree to which participants will be permitted to break out of character during such foreseeable events as lunch breaks or impromptu debriefing sessions will prevent pseudo‐reality “leakage.” Schedule in time for some private, “in‐role” talks with different participants, which support your efforts to monitor pseudo‐reality (see below).

Introduce participants to the concept of pseudo‐reality at the introductory stage of the simulation game. Even as you invite participants to use their prior knowledge as a tool in the simulation, stress the situation's fictional nature. Emphasize that, while no one can force them to leave their preconceptions behind, this is something new and unreal that will offer them an opportunity to practice their skills and reduce identity conflicts. Constantly stress the workshop's skill‐building orientation as opposed to its factual veracity. At the simulation's inception and throughout its course, help participants to relax and feel at ease, instead of becoming preoccupied with trying to reconcile their roles with their real‐life knowledge and opinions. If a participant tells you he cannot play a particular role, do not force it. Alter his role, exchange it for another, or invite him to engage in creating pseudo‐reality himself by suggesting he rewrite his role to one with which he is more comfortable.

While actually running the simulation, keep an eye on the degree of reality pervading the game dynamic. Are participants identifying too strongly or not enough with the roles? Use pseudo‐reality modifications to avoid adverse consequences. Participants should not feel that the situation is overly fantastic and therefore not worthy of serious investment. They should not feel that “this is only a game” or that “nobody has managed to resolve this conflict before — how can we hope to do anything different?” If you sense that such issues are pervading the dynamic, shake something up. For example, add new information or activate preplanned crises that can be easily resolved so as to demonstrate that problems can be worked out. Activate a preplanned unsolvable crisis that will generate expressions of real emotions. Input preplanned positive or negative feedback on the negotiations from imaginary figures outside the negotiations. Turn on a news broadcast describing the latest developments in the real‐life situation and import elements of that into the simulation.

Interrupt the process and initiate scenario changes whenever you feel that personal or group dynamics are leading the process out of its pseudo‐ reality boundaries. Initiating changes in the degree of separation between reality and pseudo‐reality, as well as changes in the content of these realities, can shift personal and group dynamics in the desired direction.

Separating participants from the story line and content of the simulation is one of the greatest challenges to trainers in conflict resolution workshops. Participants often want to relive the story, working out their anger, frustration, and sense of accomplishment, while trainers need to focus on analyzing the dynamics, the tools used, and the skills practiced. This separation, so important to the learning process, is advanced by the pseudo‐reality framework. Reminding participants that the skills are more important than the actual content, which was fictional to begin with, serves to “desensitize” participants and helps create the distance necessary for them to focus on the process in which they have just participated. Apologize ahead of time for constantly steering the discussion away from content, and remind participants of your reasons for doing so.

Try not to leave participants with a skewed or confused grasp of reality by reminding them of the major fictional departures from reality. Reassure them that a temporary sense of “identity vertigo” when shifting back into reality is natural and invite them to use this new experience to reexamine their actual perception of reality and its underlying set of opinions and preconceptions.

Celebrate success and encourage optimism. Remind participants that if the use of particular skills, techniques, and tools enabled them to achieve changes in pseudo‐reality, they can help them do the same in reality.

Pseudo‐reality is a new way of framing the conflict resolution workshop. For those wanting to adopt the pseudo‐reality framework, we offer a model for implementing it in practice. For others, who find the concepts discussed familiar and who already use these methods in their work, we hope we have organized, synthesized, and provided a vocabulary for general ideas as well as a new framework for something they have often done. This, we hope, will provide a broader language that will serve those involved in the ongoing effort to bring the conflict resolution workshop to the next level and enhance the skills and capacities of those actively involved in conflict resolution around the world.