Training For Reality: A Machiavellian Approach To Learner-Centric Design
When it comes to designing and writing learner content, it’s important not to fall into the trap of cognitive biases like the illusion of learning or the optimism bias. The former is designing content with the belief that learners will gain a rapid understanding of the information you’re sharing with them. The latter is when content is designed on the principle that once people know what to do, they will do it.
In this scenario, learners often leave programmes with a conceptual understanding and sincere intent to apply what they have learned, yet still fail to act when it matters. The gap between learning and doing remains stubbornly intact.
This gap remains in place because of a failure of realism. The truth is that people don’t make decisions in a vacuum. They act inside of systems shaped by power, risk, incentive, reputation and timing. When learning content ignores these forces, it prepares learners for a world that doesn’t exist. Behaviour change stalls because on an instinctive level, people know their actions carry a cost they don’t want to pay.
To design learning that genuinely supports action, it’s useful to look to schools of thought that take decision-making seriously. One of the most useful guides here is Niccolo Machiavelli, a philosopher infamous for his ends justify the means approach to life.
I’m going to challenge your assumption here by saying that is only one interpretation of Machiavelli. For the purposes of L&D, Machiavelli’s teachings are useful for his role as a thinker committed to clear-eyed pragmatism. For he was concerned not with how people ought to behave, but how they actually do when stakes are real.
Machiavellianism reconsidered: pragmatism over cynicism
Machiavelli’s philosophy is often caricatured as manipulative and cynical, with his most famous work The Prince being seen as a guide for tyranny and how to be evil for the LOLZ.
This perspective lacks nuance and provides a disconnect between the world that Machiavelli lived in and the world as it is today in the sense of useful ideas that can be applied to learning.
What you can take away from Machiavelli’s work is his attention to analytical clarity. He wrote for people navigating unstable systems, where authority was contested, loyalties were fragile, and outcomes depended less on virtue than on timing, perception and leverage. His work often assumes that moral intention, while important, is never the only force shaping action. Fear, advantage, reputation and survival often operate alongside values, even overpowering them in moments of pressure.
This is realism as opposed to cynicism and Machiavelli’s work assumes three things that are deeply relevant to learning design:
1. People act based on incentives and fear as much as values
One of Machiavelli’s most misquoted observations appears in The Prince, where he points out that people are “ungrateful, fickle, simulators and deceivers, avoiders of danger, greedy for gain.” This is often read as a condemnation of human nature. In context, it’s closer to a warning: leaders who rely solely on goodwill or moral appeal misunderstand the forces that govern behaviour under pressure.
Machiavelli wasn’t arguing that values are irrelevant, but that values are fragile when incentives contradict them. Fear of loss, status, safety, income, belonging, often outweighs abstract commitment to virtue, particularly when consequences are unevenly distributed.
In workplace terms, this dynamic is everywhere. Employees may genuinely believe in openness, accountability or ethical conduct, yet remain silent when speaking up threatens their peer relationships or promotion aspirations. Managers may endorse inclusive leadership in principle, but avoid challenging high performers whose output protects their own position.
2. Power operates informally as well as formally
Machiavelli was acutely aware that authority on paper rarely maps neatly onto authority in practice. In The Prince and Discourses, he repeatedly distinguishes between nominal power and actual influence, noting that rulers who misunderstand the distinction will lose control. Titles, laws and structures matter, but informal alliances, public perception and personal loyalty matters more.
He warns leaders not to confuse position with power. A prince who ignores the sentiments of the people or who underestimates the influence of elites, becomes vulnerable regardless of formal authority.
Modern companies mirror this reality closely. Influence flows through relationships, reputation, historical wins and proximity to decision-makers. People with limited formal authority may wield disproportionate power, while those with impressive titles may find themselves constrained.
3. Every decision reshapes future options
Perhaps Machiavelli’s most subtle observation is that decisions are never isolated. In The Prince, he constantly brings up fortuna, the concept of fortune and foresight and the need to adapt to future conditions. A ruler’s choices shape reputation, alliances and expectations, which in turn constrain or expand what becomes possible later.
He warns against decisions that solve immediate problems at the expense of long-term stability, as well as excessive caution that damages authority over time. In Machiavelli’s worldview, power is dynamic and every move changes the board.
In the workplace, this is a reality learners feel but often struggle to articulate. Avoiding a difficult conversation may preserve harmony today, but it can weaken credibility tomorrow and is indicative of companies with low psychological safety. Even well-intentioned actions create second-order effects that shape future risk.
Why these insights matter for learning design
Taken together, these three observations explain why so much learning content underperforms. When learning assumes that values override incentives, that formal authority determines action, or that every decision has a clean ending, learners are thrown into a black and white environment of naivety. When learners then hesitate or fail to act, the problem is then framed as a lack of courage or commitment rather than as a mismatch between learning and reality.
I’d like to propose a framework called the Machiavelli Mechanism for responding to this gap that training designers are welcome to apply for themselves. This isn’t a framework for teaching manipulation or to be given a licence for ethical shortcuts.
What I’m proposing is a pragmatic learning design approach rooted in what might be called Machiavellian ethics: the belief that ethical intention must be matched with situational awareness, and the responsibility includes understanding the consequences of action and inaction alike.
How does The Machiavelli Mechanism work?
The Machiavelli Mechanism is a structured way of designing learning content that places learners inside realistic decision environments and requires them to act. It doesn’t aim to tell learners what the correct choice is. The aim is to help practice choosing when no option is risk-free.
At the centre of the framework is the Strategic Dilemma Brief (SDB). A SDB is a roleplay scenario that mirrors the kind of situations learners already face but don’t always rehearse explicitly. It’s strategic because of the involvement of themes of power and consequence. It’s a dilemma because the goal is for every available action to to carry cost and avoidance is itself a decision.
An SDB is designed to push learners out of their comfort zones and normalise discomfort as a necessary part of learning. Participants may then be able to locate themselves within a system to start to understand how much leverage they have, what risks they face and what consequences their actions are likely to trigger.
In short, a strategic dilemma brief is a single, self-contained roleplay scenario built around a consequential decision that can’t be resolved without trade-offs.
It’s:
Situational rather than theoretical.
Decision encouraging rather than discussion led.
Focused on consequences, not correctness.
It isn’t:
A checklist of best practices.
A simulation where the learner wins cleanly.
A ‘what would you do?’ icebreaker.
The Machiavelli Mechanism is the process by which such a scenario is designed. Here’s how you might go about the design.
Stage 1: Constructing the SDB
The first step is to design the SDB/situation that learners immediately recognise as plausible, familiar and uncomfortable. Make it clear beforehand what is involved and have a learner’s consent to introduce them to the scenario so they know what to expect.
The SDB should include ambiguity, conflicting priorities and interpersonal complexity.
Role definition example:
The learner is cast as a department head responsible for delivering results during an impending organisational restructure. They have authority over outcomes but limited control over key individuals and political dynamics.
SDB example:
The department head is under pressure to demonstrate momentum ahead of restructuring that will determine future leadership roles. A senior team member consistently undermines meetings and creates friction.
However, this individual is personally trusted by an executive sponsor who has a lot of influence in the company. There aren’t any formal performance issues to record, and attempts to raise concerns informally have gone nowhere. The department head is running out of time.
This SDB signals to the learner that they can’t bypass the reality of constrained authority or political risk.
Stage 2: Call out the limits to the learner
Once the learner’s role is established, the next step is to tell them about the limits of what they can and can’t do in the role. In Machiavellian terms, this is where the real lesson begins because power isn’t what the role description promises but what the situation permits.
SDB example:
The limits of the department head include:
Not being able to control the executive sponsor’s opinion or influence.
Lacking documented evidence to support formal action.
The company culture discourages visible conflict during change.
The department head’s own role is under informal evaluation during the restructuring.
Through naming these limits, the SDB is meant to validate the learner’s instinctive risk awareness. Any hesitation doesn’t come from lacking courage but as a rational response to real constraints.
Stage 3: Present the learner with inescapable trade-offs
With the situation and limits established, the learner is now presented with several plausible actions they could take in the role. Crucially, none of these options are clean or cost-free.
Remind the learner that they aren’t choosing right or wrong and they are choosing which costs they are willing to carry.
Possible actions available to the learner:
Confront the team member directly to force change.
Delay action to protect personal position and avoid backlash.
Work indirectly through peers or informal influence.
Escalate concerns selectively with the executive sponsor.
Each option should be framed explicitly in terms of what it protects and what it sacrifices.
Visible trade-offs for the learner:
Acting decisively may restore momentum but risk retaliation.
Delaying action preserves safety but undermines outcomes.
Indirect action maintains deniability but weakens authority.
Escalation may resolve the issue or permanently damage trust.
The learner is forced to confront a core Machiavellian reality: choosing not to act is still a choice with its own consequences.
Stage 4: Getting the learner to commit to the role
At this stage, the learner must stop weighing options and make a choice. Get them to select one course of action as the person in the role so the roleplay now shifts from evaluation to accountability.
SDB example instruction:
You are the department head. You must choose one action. You can’t combine options, defer the decision or wait for new information. Prepare a brief explanation you would give to your executive sponsor defending this choice.
Here, the learner experiences the psychological weight of decision-making and the knowledge that justification will be needed.
Stage 5: Show how the learner’s decision reshapes the system
After the learner commits, the scenario happens and the plausible consequences are revealed and explored in a post roleplay discussion. The key isn’t to frame the discussion in terms of moral judgements, but rather as objective shifts in trust and future options. By doing this, the learner observes how their decision closes some paths and opens others.
Consequences explored from the learner’s position:
How credibility changes with senior leadership.
How authority is perceived by a team.
Which informal alliances strengthen or weaken.
What future actions become easier or harder as a result.
This reinforces a key Machiavellian idea that decisions are never ending and they change situations on a whim. The intended outcome is that the learner becomes more confident in how to live with the consequences of an action.
Machiavelli’s philosophy ultimately helps in the practice of decision-making
Machiavelli once said, “I go into my study; and on the threshold, I take off my everyday clothes, which are covered in mud and mire, and I put on regal and curial robes; and dressed in a more appropriate manner I enter into the ancient courts of ancient men and am welcomed by them kindly, and there I taste the food that alone is mine, and for which I was born; and there I am not ashamed to speak to them, to ask them the reasons for their actions, and they, in their humanity, answer me.”
I love this quote from Machiavelli because he’s cutting to the core of what holistic learning is all about. He frames it as deliberately stepping into the noise of daily life and actively trying to engage with real decisions and human motivations. He doesn’t extract rules or ideals from the past, so much as he is seeing history itself as instructive.
This perspective is shared by Sam Conniff, author of The Uncertainty Toolkit, who I interviewed about behavioural change in organisations. Conniff told me “I am less interested in history as nostalgia and more in history as a stress test for human behaviour. The periods I find most useful are not the ones that look impressive in hindsight, but the ones shaped by volatility, weak institutions, and rapid change. That is where human behaviour becomes visible, because certainty is stripped away.”
Machiavelli lived at one of those times and he was also looking back on those times himself. Machiavelli interrogated the pressures that shaped people and what followed as a result. That posture, asking hard questions without embarrassment and accepting uncomfortable answers is exactly what effective learning design should cultivate.
The Machiavelli Mechanism supports that mission, but it’s not meant to be corrective to everything that already works with learning design. It shouldn’t replace basic instruction principles or the lived experience of established trainers and L&D folks. This is a similar stance I take with a learner-centric content creation framework inspired by the ideas of the philosopher Montaigne.
What I’ve aimed to offer is a different lens. The Machiavelli Mechanism assumes that learners are already navigating ambiguity, informal power, personal risk, imperfect information, and effective learning should meet them there rather than being vague about what needs to happen for passive knowledge to be turned into applied wisdom.
If nothing else, the Machiavelli Mechanism is a prompt to ask different questions when creating learning content: Where does power really operate? What is the learner risking? What does this decision change? How can the learner adapt to a new state of being because of their decision?
What you choose to take away from the framework and the author of The Prince’s thinking is up to you. In that sense, the Machiavelli Mechanism is simply an attempt to help learners “learn by the experience of others” as Machiavelli advised.