DMs Eat Last

"Leadership is not a rank.  Leadership is not a position.  Leadership is a decision.  Leadership is a choice.  It has nothing to do with your position in the organisation.  If you decide to look after the person to the left of you and look after the person to the right of you, you have become a leader."

Simon Sinek, Why Leaders Eat Last

It is your willingness to stand between another person and enable the things they want, to protect them, to give up your immediate needs so they can get theirs, which makes you a leader.  If you approach DMing from the perspective that you're "giving" something to your players, you're NOT a leader.  If you're trying to make them like you, you're not a leader.  

If you're clearing the road, so that others can get something they want for themselves, without your deciding what that is, and then letting them have it, even if you hate that thing ... and IF you're doing that in a way that lets multiple people do it, then you're a leader.  If you're concerned that your game isn't turning out as you like, or as it "should," because the players can't see your vision, then that is an example of your eating first.  You may not be able to see how that's so, or what's wrong, or what connection I'm making, but if you're describing your game from YOUR POINT OF VIEW, then you're not a leader.

You can go through the millions of words on this blog and you'll have trouble finding an example of my wanting something from a game adventure I'm running.  I've spent time explaining what I'm doing at specific points of play; or what I expect to happen; or my motivations for arranging the circumstances thusly ... but those things are not "wanting" a specific result.  I predict; I organize; I inspire.  But I don't don't talk about want.

My game turns out the way I like because I don't want any specific result.  The players can see my vision because my vision isn't about what they do, or why they do it.  My vision is a flexible game world, not "my" game world.  I love throwing dice and seeing what happens — better than getting any  specific result.  I'm not leading the players to a specific place.  I'm leading the players to where they want to go; and I'm doing it without asking them constantly, or usually at all.  Am I reading minds?  No, I'm listening.  I'm watching.  I'm paying attention and setting my needs, my hunger, aside.

Mind, a DM does not run one person; we run multiple persons.  This means that not only must I ensure that Josie or David or Paul get that thing they want, but that everyone gets that thing.  And here again, let me repeat: getting Josie what she wants is not the same as giving it to her.  If she doesn't get that thing herself, without my greasy fingerprints all over it, then it's not an achievement in Josie's eyes ... and therefore it is not an achievement at all!  Players who want to be given things have no interest in playing a game; they have no interest in earning things and they have no business sitting at my table.  But players who want things, who want to earn them, who want to overcome obstacles to get them because they want achievement over the thing itself, must be allowed to run in a setting that works that way.

If what Josie wants conflicts with what David or Paul wants, that's a problem.  But it is not my problem.  It is their problem.  They have to work out that conflict.  They have to decide.  But while they're negotiating and deciding, they have to feel heard; they have to feel protected; they have to feel that their voice is as legitimate as any other voice around the table.  That's my role.  To manage the table; to manage their conflicts.  To provide structures and impose those structures so that players cannot bully players, co-opt the game or disrupt play.  That requires rules: not just game rules, but rules of behaviour, rules dictating what's permitted and what's not.

Compelling people to adhere to rules requires making them obey.  This is where I left the last post.

Running the game is a complex process and I cannot have everyone rolling their dice at the same time; doing so allows little to no oversight, makes confusion and feeds conflict.  And so, I order players to wait; to let each player roll their dice and take their turn, until I say it's the next person's turn.  I run a tight ship.  No one rolls a die until I give my permission; no one rolls a character until I say it's time; and when the game's tension rises in a combat or when a player is thinking through a problem, no one is allowed to speak or break that tension.  And believe me, you don't want to ignore that, because I am going to get in your face and you are not going to like that.

But what you will like, is that when you're solving a problem, everyone else is shutting the fuck up.  Including me.

I can't build tension or emotional investment when some player is constantly derailing the game or deliberately breaking that tension.  Most of the time, people spontaneously break tension with a stupid comment because they can't TAKE tension; they can feel themselves tightening up; they can feel the room's stress building ... and getting jittery or twitchy, they've got to say something, to relieve their discomfort.  In consequence, they wreck any stimulation or thrill that might be gained from having to manage a complex, engrossing situation.  It's selfish, it's weak and it breaks the social convention surrounding my table.  My other players don't want their wave crashed; they want their heart rates quickened.  They want the tangible nightmare fuel of thinking their characters might die.

Some weaselly readers right now are furious at this idea of being forced to respect other players and their needs.  They hate that their perfect right to free will, regardless of the needs of others, is being collared by a self-righteous DM who pretends to maintain the privilege of the majority against the self-righteous individual.  Their arsenal of petulant sanctimonious politically-correct self-serving talking points are rallied, against my daring to defend a host than the one.  I'm a tyrant; I'm a puffed up twerp, a tin-pot generalissimo, an outrageous charlatan!  "I will never play in his world!" they will cry, and spread the word that because they wouldn't, no one should, etcetera, blah blah blah, yada ... yada.

Such "individualists" are not to be tolerated.  They are to be beaten to the line, then made to stand on it, or turfed.  I don't want one individualist in my game, lording it over the others, I want seven respectful individuals, who don't seek to rally heaven and hell to defend their cause.  They give respect, they admonish others who don't (know I have their backs) and they take up the effort to lead themselves.  If a player isn't good at record-keeping, they'll take over that duty without hesitation.  If another can't seem to tell a d8 from a d10, they'll helpfully sit next to the player and patiently point, running after running, without judgment.  They'll volunteer to be treasurer and they'll keep the books faithfully; they'll volunteer for quartermaster; they'll share out more treasure than they'll take.  They'll take point, not just to get to the treasure first, but to sacrifice their own hit points for the greater good.  I have players who have nerve, who can take the strain, who don't need to "break the tension" with a stupid joke that isn't wanted.

I have this because I don't care that I'm liked.  I'll get in the misbehaver's face because I'm not emotionally invested in surviving what's coming up.  I have no reputation to maintain, except that I can be counted on to get in your face if you act like an ass.  What's more, while my suddenly whirling on you to smack you down is a surprise to you, I've been expecting this moment.  Your dialogue has been spewing out "selfish prick" from the moment you sat down to play.  Nor am I the only one to see it.  My other players have been waiting for me to slap you down; they'd have slapped you down before this, but they know I'm the leader, and that when I do it, it will have more authority behind it, it will be harsher, my words will cut closer to the bone and they'll have the benefit of being the audience and not the perpetrator.  If I do the work, the players get to enjoy the show; and you, getting read the Riot Act — you're the Punch to my Judy.  I hope you enjoy it.

Truth is, if you are a good guy, it will take two words, said sharply in an ordinary tone, to set you right.  "Stop it."  That's all.  See this line?  Stop on it.  Do that, and we'll get along fine.  I'll let you know when you go over.  Pay attention to the game, act as the other Romans around you act, rub blue mud into your naval when you see them doing it, and you'll be fine with them, too.  But get into your head that the game is in seeing how far you can step across that line, or how often, then you and I are going to have words.  A lot of words.  And because we're playing in my house, you're gonna lose.  I've never had to call the cops on a player yet, but if I have to ...

Obedience is not control.  I don't want to control you.  I want to stop you from controlling others.  I want you to respect the line.  When you respect the line, you'll respect your fellow players.  When you respect your fellow players, I'll respect you.  There are no leashes, no collars.  Just the simple principle that a group activity requires a group respect.

I don't ask for tolerance.  Tolerance is bullshit.  You can fucking hate anyone at my table you want to hate, including me.  But you better hate me with etiquette.  You understand?