So you’ve spent the time in contemplation & conversation about the myriad of RPG appetites & goals (see, especially posts 2, 3, 7 & 8), and are closer to knowing what you really want. Now what? Well, if you are already getting precisely what you want, you need do nothing new. Just keep playing exactly as you have been. But if you’re like the rest of us, the answer is, change.
It’s a strange, yet common (“insane”) mistake (as is erroneously attributed to Einstein) to “do the same thing over and over and expect different results.” This, of course, applies to our RPGs as much as anything else. We cannot just have different gaming experiences without altering what and how we play.
We cannot merely ‘brute force’ ourselves into having certain experiences without altering the elements generating them. If we don’t find a movie funny, we can’t genuinely laugh at it. If an action movie feels boring, we can’t get revved up by it. In every area of art, the numerous elements therein steer us in one direction or another.
Obviously, there are subjective elements that help push & pull our psyches by degrees. But there’s also an unmistakable objective component to all of the arts. This is why some artists excel in their craft while others don’t.
The mismatch or poor execution of artistic elements (tools, methods, etc.) leads to some degree of failure in that artform to reach its desired ends. Broadly speaking, a movie ‘succeeds’ or ‘fails’ when the tools are properly utilized and aligned with the goal of that production.
For example, if you’re making a serious movie about the agony of losing a loved one, you don’t focus on SNL-quality slapstick with Jack Black or Adam Sandler overacting. Or if you’re making a real-life crime drama, you don’t throw in a magical leprechaun at the end who resurrects the murdered victims and captures the serial-killer, for you’ve just radically altered the kind of show being crafted.
The visual arts gives clear examples of this. The works of Realist painters, like John Waterhouse, Alan Lee & John Howe evoke a markedly distinct feeling from the more (and I don’t mean this in the pejorative) ‘cartoonish’ Fantasy artwork. The Realists’ productions evoke the sense of substantial places & people, regardless of their “Fantasy Otherness”.
They do not randomly succeed, but employ very specific methods, tools & guidelines (composition, canvas, graphite, paintbrushes, etc.) as part of their creations. It’s impossible for them reach their desired goals using a crayon and a napkin. Howe cannot simply throw Homer Simpson in a painting of Morgoth without completely losing the austerity of that piece.
This principle applies to RPGs just as with any other artform. The many elements that we employ steer our experience in different directions. The trick is in uncovering those elements and seeing their potential effect on us. Most of us are aware of the decades-long discussions (/arguments) regarding System Matters with RPGs (punctuated by Ron Edwards in his ‘System Does Matter' essay in the early 2000s).
I wholeheartedly agree that System matters, but only when we agree that the mechanics of a game are only one of the components of ‘System’, and arguably, not the largest. Instead, ‘System’ is the mixture of (primarily) the methods and mechanics employed. We could arguably add setting into this definition (although one may contend that the first two can seamlessly be used in sundry settings).
Regardless of how we define, ‘System’, we can agree that the three global components: method, mechanics, & setting are the foundational pillars of our RPG experiences. How we craft and use them undeniably steers the feeling of our games.
But this is not physics, and it’s not a simple, “2+2=4” equation of cause/effect on our minds. But art does have structurally objective elements to it. We, as humans, share a wealth of psychological commonalities that are steered in similar ways by the tools employed in art.
I’ll dig into the effects of these components in later posts, but for now, we should acknowledge the common first culprit in us not getting the gaming experience we crave: Reticence to change. Many of our RPG habits are so deeply ingrained that they have become downright doctrinal.
This leads us to a choice which is best made explicit: Which do you care about more, maintaining the traditions of your RPG components or getting the thing you’ve identified as your strongest appetites. Again, if those 2 things are perfectly aligned, consider yourself remarkably lucky and continue on. But my experience is that after a lot of consideration, most gamers want something they aren’t quite getting.
We don’t have to just smile & shrug, accepting the mantra of, “Well, nothing’s perfect.” There are changes we can make to our games to maximize the specific enjoyment we want. But breaking habits, especially old ones, can be difficult.
This is even a greater challenge for gamers because it’s a group activity. Not only do we, ourselves, have to be willing to make (potentially) large changes, but everyone in our group has to agree as well. I’ve seen cases where 3 out of 4-5 members of a group have reached the point of willingness to change, but placated the unwilling members by remaining in the same playstyle and mechanics.
I understand the social aspect & nuanced problems of friends’ disparate appetites, but ultimately that dynamic can end in a lose-lose for the entire group: The members who wanted to try something new are dissatisfied, and those who did not will feel the growing unhappiness of the others. Sometimes, the right answer is to find different people to play with, those whose goals are closer to your own.
It seems that only frank group conversations can help. Proposing a long, good-faith trial run of systemic changes is a good option. This is experimentation to demonstrate how the feel of the game is altered by the changes. Many people are not persuaded by theoretical discussions; they have to experience the effects, and then may retroactively connect the dots of causation.