Charisma is Not My Car

Those following my patreon page already know that I'm back at producing map posts on this blog.  Of course, if I'm creating content there, I'm doing nothing here.  Not good.

Picking up the player creation discussion with this post, I'm settling on the following stats for my theoretical human fighter, whom I'll call Albert.  Starting with the raw numbers 15, 17, 13, 9, 12, 16 that I introduced earlier, I'll arrange them as follows:

• Str: 17
• Int: 9
• Wis: 12
• Con: 17
• Dex: 15
• Cha: 12

The 16 placed under constitution becomes a 17 with age (goes back to old AD&D) and the 13 I place under my wisdom becomes a 12.  As a DM, I'd discourage a player from putting the 15 under anything but dexterity — which anyone in the early 80s would have known to do before inordinate stress was placed on the application of die rolls to charisma.  In role-playing in my game world, charisma doesn't help the player; I expect the player's own ability to be employed when playing the game.  Charisma affects how the player is seen when doing something well or badly, just as in the real world.

Fuck up in front of an NPC with a bad charisma, incur hate.  Achieve something heroic with a bad charisma, receive "meh."  Fuck up with a good charisma, get forgiven.  Be heroic with a good charisma, get social status.  Note the lack of a die roll.  It's not fair, obviously ... but it is very much like how things go in the real world.

I happen to have a fairly good charisma ... if I'm prepared to lie to people and say what they want to hear.  My charisma comes off fairly low here because I say things like "fuck up" rather than minding my P's and Q's, and because I don't hesitate to call out bullshit ... including using a swear like "bullshit" when I call it.  In the real world, I'm polite, I smile a lot, I say encouraging things to strangers I don't care about ... and when I'm praised for what a good and considerate guy I am by people who have no knowledge of me, I take a humble stance, downplaying my abilities or intelligence.  This works.  If I had a bad charisma, it wouldn't — as I've watched certain others try.  To make use of a good charisma, a person's must have the capacity to see a conversation from the other side.  In telling someone what they want to hear, you have to KNOW what they want to hear first.  Especially if it's very different from what we want to hear.  It requires empathy, the ability to guess what another person's day has been like so far, what sort of persons they've already spoken to, what their job is like day to day, what pressures are coming from above, or from family ... and then how to manage all the pitfalls that come from saying the wrong thing.  Much of this takes practice.  I'm much better at lying convincingly and charismatically than I was once upon a time.

A player shoving a 15 into charisma usually thinks the stat is going to do all the heavy lifting going forward.  But look at the paragraph above.  I've just made a confession that plainly says I'm an AWFUL person.  Yet the response I get from persons I lie to is that I'm a "great guy," "interesting and awesome," "patient and considerate," and "a lot of fun."  There's the problem.  I have a charisma I can turn on, like a gas stove.  I light it, adjust the heat and cook the listener on the flame.  But I can't do any of that without the charisma.

And if I don't want to turn the charisma on, like now, because I'm making a case, the charisma doesn't help me a gawddamn bit.  And I know that.  Many people who have charisma and lack empathy are just terrible people, because while they look good and seem pretty important, they still have this kind of revolting habit of saying the stupidest, most inconsiderate things.  Like, you know, Mel Gibson.

Now, some are going to see the flaw in that argument, so let me take up an alternate position.  In game terms, constitution, intelligence, wisdom, dexterity and strength DO the heavy lifting without the players needing to do anything.  I can't swing a sword to save my life, but my fighter's 17 strength shows that he can.  So why not charisma too?  The stat ought to act like a filter the player speaks through, so that if the player says the wrong thing, the character's 15 charisma tidies it up and makes it sound more awesome.  This is a fair argument ... and I often consider the stat in this regard.

Too much consideration, however, tends to make the player think he or she can say anything they want, without consequences — so long as their charisma is high enough.  I don't agree.  It shouldn't need to be said, but D&D is a game.  As a game, it hinges on the player's ability to play, not the players ability to roll.  Getting a good die roll, even choosing to put that 15 under charisma, isn't a blank cheque for everything the player says and does afterward.  The player's got to earn that charisma, just as he or she earns their survival through the employment of strength or constitution.

Therefore, the player has to choose what the charisma filters ... and not everything a player might can can be fixed therefrom.  Stand in front of a prince and insult him, then add, "Well, I have an 18 charisma, so does he like me anyway."  Um, no.  "You've just insulted him with a lot of flare and style, but you HAVE insulted him.  Because of your charisma, he's just going to put you in stocks for a week.  Instead of killing you.  Thank your charisma for that."

This isn't a popular approach to the game, especially for players who want that immunity.  What it does, however, is level the playing field for all the players, as ALL the players must use their ability to play and game to overcome the obstacle, in the same way.  This means that as Jody of the 9 charisma approaches the prince nervously, Jerome of the 18 charisma does as well.  He's not special.  The prince is.  And that's crucial to the game, which ought to reward what the player is able to do, not the character.

We've drifted a long way from this premise.  Virtually everything about the game's progression has become a sort of "pimp your ride" moniker, as if the character is a machine the player climbs into, that does all the driving while the player watches the wheel turn and the lights flip on and off.  This is enhanced by making the character bulletproof, so that no matter what the player has a SAFE ride, and never needs to worry about the character crashing or even running out of gas.  And of course, having bolting this framework securely around the player, it's gawdawful boring.  There's nothing for the player to do.

I suppose that's overstating it.  When I watch a game in progression, however, that's how it looks to me.  The player says something, then immediately reaches for a die.  He or she rolls the die, and then tells the DM what's just happened.  Since every action is delineated down to a pass or fail die roll, there's no need to role-play or problem-solve anything.

Alternatively, the player reads off some ability from their character sheet and states, "My character has a silver tongue, therefore the NPC is persuaded."  Or, again, they roll a die and that settles it.  There's no need for the player to charm his or her way out of a tight spot.  No need for the player to be skilled at all.  A fingersnap does it, or the die does.

This "gameplay" fills every session with a monotonous, repetitive drone, utterly lacking in challenge or anything new and engaging.  I believe those who embrace the game like this do so because it's comforting and relaxing.  Like watching a 3 hour video in which hands knead bread.  Which is mesmerising.

But it's not the game I want to run.