The Assumption Auction | Games for Trainers

People walk into training rooms with a lot of opinions they've never really questioned. Not because they're stubborn — just because some things feel so obviously true that nobody ever stops to check. The Assumption Auction is a game that pokes at exactly those things. You make statements, people bet money (fake money, but still) on whether they're true, and then you find out who was right. It sounds simple. It works surprisingly well.

It takes about twenty minutes, needs no technology, and you don't need to be an experienced facilitator to run it. What it reliably produces is the kind of open, honest conversation that most workshops take an hour to get to — if they get there at all.

How the game works

Before the session, you put together a set of statements — ten to fifteen of them — about whatever topic you're covering. The key is that each one should sit in that uncertain middle ground. Not obviously right, not obviously wrong. The best ones are the kind where you could easily see the room splitting in two.

Everyone gets a set of bidding tokens — some fake currency, poker chips, or just numbered slips of paper. You read each statement aloud, run a quick auction, and people bid on the ones they think are true. Whoever bids highest wins that statement — and has to be ready to defend it if someone challenges them.

"The moment that sticks with people is when you reveal which statements were actually true — and they realise how confidently they bet on something that turned out to be wrong."

The debrief is where it really comes alive. Go through each statement, say what the evidence shows, and ask the people who bid big on the wrong ones: what made you so sure? And the people who stayed quiet on the true statements: what held you back? The answers to those two questions tend to open up conversations that no amount of lecturing ever does.

Why it works — the psychology behind the auction

The bidding mechanic does something that plain discussion can't — it makes people commit. When you have to put actual tokens on something, a vague feeling that "yeah, that sounds about right" becomes a real decision. And when you're wrong, you feel it. Not badly, not in an embarrassing way — but enough that you actually remember it.

That's the thing about being wrong in a lighthearted, low-stakes setting. It sticks. People leave this game remembering exactly which statements tripped them up — and why — in a way they'd never remember a slide making the same point. The competitive element keeps the energy up without anyone getting defensive. And because the tokens are fake, people take risks they'd never take in a real debate.

There's also something to be said for the physical side of it. The moment you put tokens on a statement, you stop being a passive listener and start being someone with skin in the game. That shift tends to last into the rest of the session — people stay more engaged once they've been pulled into something active.

How to run it — step by step

Prepare your statements

Write 10–15 statements about your topic. Each one should sit in that uncertain middle ground — believable enough that someone might go for it, but not so obvious that everyone nods immediately. The sweet spot is a statement where you can genuinely picture the room splitting.

Distribute bidding tokens

Give everyone 20–30 tokens. Physical works best — poker chips, coins, folded paper slips — because having something in your hand makes it feel real. Let people bid as much or as little as they want on each statement, including nothing at all.

Run the auction

Read each statement out loud and give people about 30 seconds to bid. Whoever bids highest claims the statement. Move fairly quickly — the pace is part of what keeps it lively. Hold off on revealing any answers until the very end.

Reveal and debrief

Go through each statement and say what the evidence actually shows. Spend most of your debrief time on the ones that surprised people the most — where what the room believed and what turned out to be true were furthest apart. The key questions: what made us so sure? And what would have changed our minds?

Bridge to the workshop

Don't just move on — link the game to your session. The assumptions that came up are your starting point. Write them on a flipchart and leave them up. Come back to them at the end to show what shifted. It gives the whole session a thread.

Adapting the Assumption Auction to different contexts

One of the best things about this game is that you don't have to change how it runs — just what's in the statements. Here's how it works across a few different types of session.

Workshop Adaptations

Where this game travels well

Leadership development: Use statements about what actually motivates people, what makes teams work well, or what separates good managers from not-so-good ones. People in leadership roles tend to have very fixed views about this stuff — which makes the reveal interesting.
Compliance and ethics training: Frame the statements around real beliefs people carry into the room — things like "most people who commit fraud are doing it out of pure greed." It gets at the thinking behind behaviour in a way that policy slides just can't.
Customer service and sales: Use statements about what customers actually care about, what drives a buying decision, or what kills a deal. Sales and service teams often have strong opinions built up over years. Finding out which ones hold up — and which don't — tends to hit home.
Diversity and inclusion: This one needs a bit more care, but it's one of the strongest uses of the game. Statements about hiring, representation, or workplace fairness can open up the kind of honest conversation that's hard to get any other way — because the game format makes it feel less like an accusation and more like a shared discovery.
Onboarding: Get new joiners to bid on assumptions about how things work in the organisation. Then have experienced colleagues share what actually surprised them when they started. It's a much warmer way into culture than a policy document.
Virtual delivery: Use Mentimeter, Slido, or a shared Miro board to run the bidding online. It's not quite the same energy as in a room, but the insight holds up. Set everyone's starting token count at the beginning and display bids on a shared screen.

What to watch for as a facilitator

Don't over-explain it. The game is pretty easy to get into — too much instruction upfront just flattens the energy. Give the basics, run one practice round with something low-stakes, and let people find their feet as they go.

Pay attention during the reveal. When someone realises they bid big on something that turned out to be wrong, that's a useful moment — don't rush past it or make it awkward. Meet it with genuine curiosity rather than 'gotcha' energy. You want people thinking, not cringing.

Be ready for the ones with no clean answer. Some statements are genuinely contested, and that's fine — often more interesting, actually. Be comfortable saying 'this one's debated, and here's where the disagreement sits' rather than forcing a verdict that doesn't hold up.

Make a note of what surprised people most. The statements that got the biggest confident bids — and turned out to be wrong — are pointing you directly at where the real learning needs to happen. That's useful information worth paying attention to.

The takeaway

What makes this game work is that it doesn't treat assumptions as something to be corrected. It treats them as something worth looking at together. Nobody feels called out. Nobody gets defensive. And because of that, you tend to get more genuine reflection than any direct challenge ever produces.

When people figure out for themselves that something they believed wasn't quite right — through a game, with the whole room alongside them — they usually stay open. And an open room is a much better place to learn from than one where people are just waiting to defend their position.