Wednesday, May 13, 2026

Dog Whistles

My last three posts no doubt were adversarial. I attacked people on a panel for employing business speak instead of actually discussing game play; and for using poor business speak; and for being opportunist in their intentions. For plagiarising a game that's 50 years old. And for failing to comprehend how a simplified game is likewise unable to provide agency for its participants. And finally, as pursuing goals related to the game design industry that I would consider "selling out" and a direction I do not authetically wish to go. I did not withhold any punches.

In political discourse, "a 'dog whistle' is the use of coded or suggestive language in political messaging to garner support from a particular group without provoking opposition. The concept is named after ultrasonic dog whistles, which are audible to dogs but not humans. Dog whistles use language that appears normal to the majority but communicates specific things to intended audiences. They are generally used to convey messages on issues likely to provoke controversy without attracting negative attention. A key feature is plausible deniability: the speaker can say, "That’s not what I meant," while the intended audience still receives the signal.

D&D — I cannot speak for other role-playing games — commonly employs a phrase like "It is my role to ensure the players are having a good time." This is meant to sound supportive and positive... but, in fact, what it usually means is, "I feel it's my right to fudge the dice or the experience in order to ensure that the game proceeds as I think best." This is not a dog whistle; it is, rather, a type of propaganda, where we are doing something bad while proclaiming that it's actually good.

A dog whistle strives to do the opposite. "I am against urban crime" means, "I am against black people." You're not supposed to know that unless you can hear the dog whistle. The average non-racist voter hears the words said; and they, too, agree that "urban" crime is probably not a good thing. It may or may not occur to the average listener that "crime" in general is a bad thing, and that it need not be "urban" also... but this is how we get the racist message to the listener. "Don't worry, vote for me, I don't like black people, just like you don't."

In D&D, one example is "rules lite"... which sounds neutral, even virtuous. The system is easy to learn, accessible to everyone. For DMs who have been baffled by rules, or players who tire of character design taking an entire session, being able to create a character in five minutes sounds wonderful. But what the dog whistle really means is, "the rules get in the way of me, the DM, doing what I like; rules light equals arbitrary DMing."  Presumably, the DM's players know this. They can hear the dog whistle. They don't care about rules, so they don't care about a DM who doesn't care about them.

The OSR has been blowing this dog whistle for 15+ years now. It has worked for them. They have successfully convinced a significant number of players to embrace a system that, when it falls down, the DM just does whatever the fuck they feel like doing. Acknowledging, of course, that no one, ever, ever, abuses power. In fact, I don't think anyone's ever invented an idiom about that.

Because my system is "crunchy," I'm often accused of liking crunchier systems. That my only reason for wanting them is preference. That this is just how I roll. My game play is not, in fact, about developing safeguards against arbitrary power, either by the DM or the player ("backstories" are the insertion of arbitrary power on the player's part) — even though every social structure in human history, from political systems to your local bowling league, are about restraining authority. One method of doing this is called "democracy." This silly system is founded upon another ridiculous idea, "the rule of law." For the record, this last concept is very crunchy.

The successful boosting of D&D in the early 70s, certainly before it was published, created a yin and yang with it's one essential element: the invention of the "dungeon master." On the one hand, the position offered tremendous opportunity: a single, detached referee could look at both sides of a battle and serve to enable the missing fog of war, which had to be discounted in order to make game play practicable. This is still my role when I DM. I "hide" what is in the next room, I hide the motives of the monsters opposing the players, I hide how many there are and I hide the benefit the players will receive upon defeating them. In addition, there is no aspect of the setting or the unfolding of events that I cannot influence by withholding knowledge from the players. Prior to the DM's invention, this was not possible to do in game play. Videogames hadn't gotten there yet. But let's save the videogame aspect for now.

The yang to this is that human beings are inherently untrustworthy. Allowing one person to see both sides of a question, and to withhold information, enables that person to enrich themselves; no doubt, the "enriching compulsion" comes from when we were still nearly animals, when one member of a tribe stumbled across a food source and decided to glom all of that source for themselves — to the detriment of others. Yet, the wish to "feel full," to cease to hunger, whether for food or safety or greater control or power, is a tremendous motivator for one to be self-interested. The introduction of the DM created this opportunity for thousands upon thousands of individuals who would never have experienced power otherwise. And a great many of them cannot resist it... just like their forebear that gobbled up all the berries from a found bush, gathering none of them for the rest of the tribe.

Understand, I do not use the word "compulsion" lightly. This isn't a choice. Ogg the anthropithecine, assuming they had names, probably has some sentiment that he shouldn't eat every berry on this bush... but he isn't choosing to do so, he just cannot help himself. He's hungry, he needs to stop feeling hungry. He is at the mercy of his needs. More often than not, Ogg might actually be a pretty all right tribe member. Which doesn't mean anything, obviously, if he's seen by Grug eating all the berries. Grug is also hungry. As is the whole tribe.

Here, Ogg isn't evil, narcissitic or ungenerous; he's an organism under immediate biological pressure. Hunger narrows the temporal horizon. The berries are present; the tribe is abstract. The future starvation of others is cognitively and emotionally weaker than the current sensation in his own body. This is why many social systems exist designed to control compulsion: norms, oversight, punishment rather than execution, ritual sharing, reputation, the encouragement of delayed gratification. These things stress an understanding that yes, we understand that you may want all these for yourself... but think for a moment about last week, when Judy shared her berries with you. Don't you feel guilty for not sharing your berries with her?

The problem with "rules lite" and the dog whistle it declares, "rulings not rules," is that it's a designed to be a social system that codifies and enables Ogg's behaviour. The DM is encouraged to discount the vote of others; to discount the presence of rules that make the game fair; to feel, in fact, that it is right and just to be arbitrary.

This is bad.

I am "crunchy" because more rules invites more player engagement, plus agency, from the kinds of players I want in my game: vision-seeking, active, unafraid of self-educating or novelty, highly communicative and willing to work for what they want. I am transparent with my rules system because I want to be held accountable for my actions and rulings. I want the players to have the right to say, "Your rule states..." — just as in a free and fair system, regardless of its purpose, there is always room for airing a grievance. Any system that denies the right to bring a grievance is an opportunity to fall victim to one's own compulsions.

Having standing as a player entitles the participant to cite the rules, question a ruling, request consistency, identify a contradiction and expect the DM to answer according to the system rather than according to preference. The player is not interrupting the game by doing this. The player is using the game as written. Rules define what the DM may do, what the player may do, what each participant may expect and what recourse exists when a decision appears inconsistent or unfair. A game without that recourse gives the DM authority without sufficient accountability. That is not freedom for the players. It is reduced protection for them.

Rules lite is an attempt to undermine standing. By minimising the presence of rules, the DM is insulated from grievances. The DM is entitled to ignore a player's knowledge of even those rules that do exist, because the DM is empowered to change those rules at will. This is authoritarianism, not "freedom from rule-based play."

Early in D&D, "rules lawyering" originally meant the player who knew the rules as well or better than the DM, who made the DM's life difficult by insisting the rules be acknowledged and followed. Those DMs who disliked this, or any player that attempted to call out a missed rule, however rarely, decided to re-engineer the idiom "rules lawyering" into what it means today: a time-waster. Someone who doesn't want to play, but wants to litigate. This has itself become a dog whistle: when the DM says, "no rules-lawyering," what's really being said is, "don't challenge my authority."

Together, the ideals of rules lite and no rules lawyering have created a sort of fascistic approach to dungeon mastering... but mind you, it's not "fair" to call it that. This is why the dog whistles exist. "See, we're not saying the DM can be a dictator... no, we're just saying, lighten up on the rules; go easy with the procedure; we just don't to waste a lot of game time dithering over rules that don't matter for game play. We're not 'fascists.' That's a ridiculous term to describe what we're really saying."

DO NOT FORGET the primary value of the dog whistle: plausible deniability. This is what allows racism to thrive while its participants can say straight-faced to the press, "We're not racists; we don't say racist things." It's what allows anti-abortionists to claim they are "pro-life," even though they don't care about the life of the mother or anyone else except the unborn life; because they have that wonderful deniability.

No, rules-lite DMs aren't fascists. Obviously. What a ridiculous notion. "Really," says the DM who wants to take away the player's standing to discuss the game's rules, "to even use the word is over-the top insulting. What nonsense! What hyperbole."

Just listen to the actual words from these people when we say, "I don't want DMing by fiat."  They say, "let's not bog things down," "trust the process," "don't be difficult," "stop litigating," "just relax," "the DM is trying to help everyone have fun." The language is always softened, because in fact, overt domination is in reality socially unattractive.

But sure. I take it back. I shouldn't have changed the register by invoking the F-bomb. I don't know what I was thinking. Probably, it's just that I'm such a pit-bull, I can hear a dog whistle when it's blown. Still, though... if it walks like a duck, and swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck...


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