“I don’t believe in success and failure.” – Viola Spolin.

Over the years, I’ve had countless new students confess that they signed up for my workshop precisely because Improv terrifies them — and they want to face that fear head‑on. I always admire that kind of courage. But I also can’t help thinking, sheesh… you don’t need to be scared of this.

My workshop isn’t terrifying. In fact, it’s the opposite. It’s fun.

Fun is the antidote to fear. My goal is to pull students’ attention away from whatever anxiety they walked in with and immerse them in something playful, engaging, and disarming. Instead of lecturing about the value of Improv or trying to convince them that it’s “not that scary,” I start with a game. Right away.

Because once you’re playing, (having fun) fear dissolves — and improvising becomes effortless

Dependency on authority obstructs players from directly experiencing self and the world – Viola Spolin.

One of my pet peeves when I hear people talk about the principles of Improvisation is “Get used to failure” or “Celebrate failure” or “Expect to fail quite a lot”.  We all fear failing because we are conditioned in our culture to respond to what Viola called the Approval/Disapproval Syndrome. To some degree we all seek the praise and approval of others and wish to be seen as ‘good’. That means on some level we all fear the disapproval of others and want to avoid being bad.

When you lay in fear, you cripple people. – Viola Spolin.

This ‘Get used to failure’ principle is meant to allay people’s fear of failure. You say “Don’t worry about it. Feel that fear and do it anyway.” By mentioning failure you make it part of the premise of improv training. In a way, you make fear an important prerequisite. Tony Robbins refers to this idea of misplaced attention in one of his talks. He says “Ask a race car driver to drive as fast as he can and keep his eyes on the track, but tell him also to watch out for that wall at the quarter mile turn. What does he look at? – The wall!” Bringing up the notion of failure is like mentioning the wall. It keeps students focused on it and makes it an unnecessary hurdle.

Success/Failure is a paradigm that Spolin avoids. This one idea distracts us from joy of the process, and lays in fear. It also sets us up for becoming competitive and seeking a successful result. This can affect the teacher/director who, with the best of intentions, will try to steer students towards their idea of success, praising students for successful scenes and criticizing (or critiquing) the failures. In doing so the teacher unwittingly sets up the students to be mindful of success and failure.

Spolin Games is not about Success or Failure. It’s about fun. Playing creates shared energy and a psychological and social condition that activate our intuition, and makes us part of the whole in a dynamic way that needs no explanation other than the rules.

When you play Tag, the goal is to avoid being “it.” But if you get tagged, you happily become “it” — quickly tagging someone else to pass it on. This cycle keeps the game lively and fun for everyone. To start, simply say “Not it!” and the last person to say it becomes “it.” Then, the chase begins, full of laughter and excitement. There’s no judgment here: being “it” or “not it” is just part of the game. Someone has to be “it,” and that person embraces the role, eager to tag someone else. The game continues until everyone’s had enough, not until there’s a winner or loser. We play Tag purely for the joy of it.

But if you introduce Tag by saying, “Now we’re going to play Tag. Some of you will get caught and have to be ‘it.’ Don’t worry about failing to stay free; focus on tagging someone else. If you get caught, accept it and try hard to tag another player,” the experience changes.

When tagged, you might think, “Oh no! I’m it! I don’t want to be it! I’m bad at this. I failed.” Suddenly, the fun dims. The physical actions remain the same, but the mindset shifts. Tag is still fun — it’s just fun, period. You can’t truly win or lose at Tag unless you stop playing. It sounds simple, but it’s an important truth.

Can you imagine a workshop where you have Tag – level 1, Intermediate Tag and Advanced Tagging? Play is democratic. This is one reason why Viola allowed players with varying levels of skill in her workshops. Evaluating someone on their merits as ‘talented’ was not her aim. Her goal was to get everybody playing to the fullest. In that state, everyone has what it takes.

Fun is the key

One of the core principles of any workshop is simple: have as much fun as possible. Fun isn’t an extra—it’s the engine of real learning. Viola understood that games are naturally joyful, which makes them the ideal vehicle for tackling the challenges of working onstage.

When she talks about creating a strong workshop atmosphere, she’s really talking about setting up the basic conditions that all games need in order to thrive:

• Freedom to play with enthusiasm and joy
• A willingness to follow the rules of the game
• A readiness to take on the challenge
• The delight of playing purely for the fun of it

For Viola, fun was the goal. She never framed things in terms of success or failure. Her only question was: Were you playing, or were you in your head? And if you were in your head—fine. No judgment.

“I don’t want to know why you were in your head!” she’d say. “There’s always a reason. I’m sure you’ve got very good reasons. I’m not interested in them.” Her attention was always on helping you return to play.

When you were in the space—fully present, fully playing—there was nothing to do but celebrate it. Shout hooray, enjoy the moment, and move on. No analysis. No debrief. Just the next game.

And here’s the paradox: the less time you spend weighing risks or evaluating yourself, the more fun you have. The stakes in a game are low, yet everyone takes them seriously enough for the game to work. That seriousness of play actually shuts off the part of the mind that judges and evaluates. There’s simply no room for it. Your whole being is absorbed in responding, connecting, and enjoying the activity.

My two cents…

As a teacher, strive to make every game presented and played in this way. Coach accordingly. Avoid telling your students they’ve done well and don’t tell them why you think they’ve done poorly. You are reinforcing Approval/Disapproval in yourself and in them. Some students will literally beg you for it. They want that ‘pat on the head’. They are conditioned to work for it and value it more than the fun they’ve had. Don’t be tempted. It can make you feel important to hold their worth in your hands and you will even feel good about your dispensing your praise and critique, but you are trapped in the same syndrome. Beware of it. “Don’t do anything about it, but don’t not do anything about it.” as Viola would say.

Begin every workshop with a warm-up game like Tag or Kitty wants a Corner or Red Light-Green Light – any game that is completely fun for its own sake.
When introducing any subsequent game or exercise, do so with the same goal. Present it as another fun experience, regardless. Your players will all enjoy solving the problem if it is presented to them as another opportunity to have fun. They won’t feel the pressure of facing their fear. Or if they do, that’s between them and them. At least you didn’t address it and add to the pressure. Eventually, having enough fun will dissipate the fear. Also, there’s no need to deconstruct or debrief the game if it works. That is just gilding the lily. Let the game teach. You stay out of it.

A penny lecture comforts the teacher more than the student. – Viola Spolin

If a game doesn’t work, don’t belabor the point. You may have overestimated their readiness for a particular game, or maybe the game was not so much fun for reasons you should be aware of. I.e., presentation, poor coaching, you chose a game that is not appropriate for the workshop. That’s your job as a teacher. Are your students working for the fun of the game or for your approval? I know for me, I want every student to ‘get it’ so much, I sometimes over coach. It is my desire for a successful outcome that gets in the way. It spoils the fun. Avoid using the word “risk” for the same reason. Risk implies sacrificing something and thus engenders a level of fear.

Omit the words ‘failure’ and ‘risk’ from your workshops and you increase the likelihood of creative growth for both you and your students.

Have fun.

That’s my advice for what it’s worth.