Toxicity

Our goal as D&D participants is to root out the issues discussed in the last post.  These behaviours can manifest in anyone; they don't have to be full blown to get in our way and spoil our fun and that of others.  To avoid this, we should be mindful when we're feeling annoyed that we're not getting all the attention we think we ought to be getting, or when a situation doesn't turn out as we expected.  If we're aware that we're "waiting for our turn," or that not receiving gratification for something is getting under our skin, we need to look at those feelings and understand they have no place in the game.

There are some that just can't do this... they're bringing a personality to the table that habitually identifies every moment as, "When do I get mine."  It should be obvious that D&D consists of a group of people who have agreed to come together socially in order to participate in a shared experience, one in which they interact with each other to solve problems and achieve goals in a somewhat unusual yet intriguing environment.  ANY self-directed thought or action will, in this framework, produce a discontinuity, like a dancer in a troupe that cannot stop improvising.  We don't all have to think alike; we don't have to be "in sync"; but we do have to give ground to others and divide the time between all the participants, letting the game unfold as everyone contributes.

It is for this reason that two of the most cherished practices of latter-day D&D are so toxic in the game's play.  These things have arisen specifically to encourage players to become more engaged while the session is ongoing, but the design has stressed the individuality of this engagement, rather than the overall group dynamic.  In any shared activity, overt distinctiveness or excessive displays of personality are discordant to the whole picture... and unfortunately, the measure of engagement with these toxic insertions into the game is defined by how excessive the individual tries to be.  These practices are the creation of "backstories" and the increased instigation of "role-play."

While intended to intensify involvement, these practices do more harm than good.  It is not enough for the player to have a backstory, this backstory must be placed on display as often as possible, during game play, to justify it's presence.  Yet, because it is John's backstory, created for John, and not Janine's or Jared or Julian's backstory, the value of the backstory is that it specifically steers the game towards John's needs, John's history and John's motives.  In most cases, the individual with the strongest personality, who is the most creative in the group, tends towards the bending of the party's shared experience around the art of this one backstory, and not that of everyone... however unintentional this may be with regards to the one player.

Role-playing, the act of speaking as though one is one's character, thus lending that character a composed, designed personality, introduces an even more overt kind of theatricality into D&D.  The purpose for the player participating in this has his or her focus upon the "performative" element of the character, the desire to achieve a sort of accuracy or believability... but, like with backstories, this performance does not capture the group's dynamic, but that of the individual.  The role-playing performer is concerned primarily with how they are perceived, rather than focusing on others.  The goal is to impress, to entertain, rather than taking part in the shared experience, while the subsequent result is to wear down the collective enjoyment of those participants who do not equally sharae this performative aspect of the game.

Performative role-playing is inherently lacking in authenticity because it prioritises external validation — what others think of the performance — above that of in-the-moment decision-making within the context of the game.  Rather than thinking of what the party needs to do, or how to overcome the next difficulty, the player is waiting for the next opportunity to perform, often bending the game's narrative to suit the character's personal arc.  This is merely another way of derailing the campaign, particularly if the player feels compelled to launch into long speeches, seize the spotlight with regards to non-player characters or introduce quirks in speaking or vocabulary use that become increasingly annoying after several sessions, this accumulating hours of having the same character traits pressed upon one's attention.

While now associated part-and-parcel with D&D, these practices do not have a function that is necessary to the game itself.  At it's core, D&D is about players responding to the DM's description of the setting, making decisions and navigating challenges based on the rules. The game’s mechanics — rolling dice, making tactical choices, solving problems — are what drive play. None of these mechanics require a player to perform their character’s personality or reference an elaborate backstory. The real function of the game is in how the players interact with the world presented by the DM, not in how convincingly they can act out their character’s traits or weave their backstory into the narrative.

The practices of heavy role-playing and backstory development are, at their core, merely bad habits that have been grafted onto D&D by outside influences. These elements were never intrinsic to the functional play of the game but have been embraced because they appeal to players who, whether knowingly or not, are inclined to make themselves the centre of attention. They have succeeded because a great many of the participants of game's participants are of this ilk, and because the push-back has been affected by beliefs regarding inclusiveness and the enshrinement of individuality at the expense of good manners and respect for others. The strongest voices in present day D&D are those of performative actors, who's intent is to highlight the game's dramatic qualities, and a company that recognises pragmatically that products are sold to individuals and not groups. This has left the policing of D&D to one DM surrounded by a party that most likely has at least two self-directed individuals within it, outnumbering the DM and thus discouraging any possible stand on the matter.  As most DMs have trouble getting and keeping players, the incentive is to accept things as they are and try to manage the best we can.