because there are only two people in the world, there is also no possibility for a sense of place to be produced. the gods and the mole-things are fairly arbitrary and devoid of character, if aesthetically pleasing. all of the possibilities afforded by implying a social space and working to establish a sense of place are left unexplored. this isn't a flaw in the game per se, but it is (in my view) a flaw in the idea that it's an ideal/representative mediation between mechanical design and experience authorship. total godhood in the domain of chopping sufficiently close objects along a straight line works against this, also. hard to see things as having meaningful internal structure when you spend all day annihilating them.
Well tbh I never thought too deeply about the concept of experience authorship, and assumed most of the games that tipped on that side of the scale were games that oftentimes involved a character in his singular in a world that is basically nothing more than an empty canvas for crafting an experience with. I guess I always thought of authorship in terms of pure introspection rather than on the scale of a person's experience in relation to the entire world/setting around which that experience takes place (or even the world outside the one in which that experience takes place).
The one thing I felt remiss about while playing the game was involving that the only real option presented to me throughout the game was that of destruction. True that destruction was creatively placed, and it was a refreshing change to see puzzles purely in the perspective of where thinking only about how the spaces without stuff in it would solve my problem, rather than simply another type of puzzle that involves yet another variation on filling space with something (I would like to try exploring that very idea with the mechanics of Tetris, but like you mention earlier with the whole binary dynamic, it is very difficult for such a game to not turn out to be the exact same thing that Tetris already is).
But the idea of stacking blocks on top of each other with the rope, no matter how creatively cut they might be, is too subject to the fickle mistress of accurate physics to ever accomplish anything that would even remotely qualify as "constructive". The whole time I was chasing down those godly undaroos I was thinking, "well if I commanded THAT ability, I could at least do some REAL playing with my freshly cut blocks, stacking them into arbitrary yet roughly balanced tower shapes like a child might" Maybe if he donned the pants himself and possibly upgraded his toolset with a glue-gun, it could open up the opportunity for a sequel where your character struggles with finding a constructive and useful place in a world where he could literally tear everything down and build it back up in any manner he so wished.
In short, maybe scribblenauts is a better example of that kind of balance (although one that might not be as good at what it is meant to do as people like to claim), but I am really in no position to philosophize on the matter. There are so many ways to explore so many aspects of the medium and it's potential, there really is not going to be a singular catch-all example of a game that monopolizes on every aspect of gaming that can be enjoyed. If there ever were, it could likely be the very last video game that ever needed to be made.