On the use of "meta-information":
In the BW actual play example, one consequence that I established was in a context where I was entitled by the rules of the game to introduce a time-based complication:
If the player fails a test in which he is working carefully, the result indicates he has run out of time - the bomb goes off, the
guards burst in, the old man dies, etc. By working carefully, the player is allowing the GM to introduce a serious complication upon failure. (Hub and Spokes, p 29)
Thoth had failed his careful surgery test to heal the Lady Mina. No one at the table particularly cared about Mina, who was just a plot device to bring Thoth out of his workshop, and into the same scene as Father Simon. So I didn't establish a consequence that pertained to her; rather, I established a consequence that pertained to Thoth's prolonged absence from his workshop: his captive, George, had regained consciousness and escaped.
In the fiction, of course, Thoth does not know that George has escaped. So it would be poor play for Thoth's player to declare actions that would only make sense if his fictional position included
Thoth knows that George has escaped the workshop. There is no formal process to "enforce" this - it's about etiquette and good taste.
On the other hand, it would be excellent play for Thoth's player to declare actions, or suggest consequences, that ironically play upon George's escape, or that create the potential for cascading consequences down the line. This makes the fiction more amusing and more compelling for everyone.
Two discussions of this that I know of in RPG books are from Over the Edge and Maelstrom Storytelling:
From "The Literary Edge" (an essay by Robin Laws, on p 193 of my 20th anniversary edition):
Think of all your actions as GM as literary devices. . . . When viewing role-playing as an art-form, rather than a game, it becomes less important to keep from the players things their characters wouldn't know. When characters separate, you can "cut" back and forth between scenes involving different characters, making each PC the focus of his own individual sub-plot. This technique has several benefits. First, it allows players to develop characters toward their goals without having to subsume them to the demands of the "party" as a whole. Secondly, it quickens the pace, allowing players to think while their characters are "off-screen", cutting down on dead time in which players thrash over decisions. When a character reaches an impasse, or an important climax, the GM can then "cut" to another character, giving the first player a chance to mentally regroup. Finally, the device is entertaining for players out of the spotlight, allowing them to sit back and enjoy the adventures of the others' characters.
The price of this is allowing players access to information known to PCs other than their own. But it's simple enough to rule out of play any actions they attempt based on forbidden knowledge. This doesn't mean there will be a shortage of mystery. Any OTE GM will still have secrets to spare. In fact, by allowing the number of sub-plots to increase, the GM is introducing even more questions the players will look forward to seeing answered.
From Maelstrom Storytelling (p 114):
Cut Scenes can even be added, where the narrator cuts to a scene in progress that does not involve the players (sic), and describes the action there. . . .
And from the Maelstrom Storytelling supplement, Dacartha Prime (p 92):
The character is the player's tool in the story, and the player contributes to the story using that tool. The trick is to make interesting choices that add flavour and interest to the game while remaining true to the role. Just doing what makes sense for the character is only half of it. Find new ways to approach dilemmas, and make choices that other players can "play off of". Information that the player has, but that their character does not have, should never be used to benefit the character - however, that information can be used to add flavour and colour to the story.
Example: Pendleton has a lot of money, all safely kept in a safe deposit box. His friend Lilith winds up with the key by accident, but doesn't know where it came from. Pendleton looks frantically for the key, describing it to his friend as he searches. "A little silver key? Like this one?" Lilith asks, showing him the key. "Yes. A silver key. Very much like that one," he answers, continuing to search
I think it's clear that this is a pretty different approach to the role of information in the game from, say, White Plume Mountain.