And They Tell this Stuff to Children

Here is a subject that is never spoken of enough.

When the makers of RPGs, regardless of the given company — and of course there are many now — seek to sell their game, the marketing that's pursued promotes the product to a young, new, accessible, family-friendly, easy-to-onboard culture... something that, in particular, a kid can enter. The wording is always carefully balanced to include short words, to suggest emotional ideals such as "imagination," "adventure" and "fun," because the goal is to make something that absolutely encourages young people to play. Most of us here began playing D&D, as the front-leading example, when we were quite young. Therefore it seems perfectly natural to us, having been introduced to the game in school and early in life, that the company should go on promoting the game to the next generation.

However, when any part of the company's position is challenged on the ethics of its practices — fudging, for example; or story-manipulating the player's experience with railroading, illusionism, concealed forced outcomes; or questions of consent, the politicisation of the game with "safety tools" and "consent checklists"; corporate control over community labour; digital ownership and platform control; and monetisation of the product, building brands, the endless stream of book selling, the normalising of performance-centered versions of play, the mechanics of audience retention — then suddenly the imagined game table is composed of consenting adults who have negotiated every premise. Children are useful as customers; but magically, when discussing their customers, the manner in which the product's pitch affects children is never a part of the discourse.

Yes, I began playing D&D at 15, but the company did not at the time tell me what to think about D&D, what to believe about the game's purpose, what it was supposed to mean to me or any other form of propaganda, such that pours like heaven's flood, drenching the landscape now. I was given the rules and allowed to play. What I did with the game, how I spoke to my players, how they spoke to each other, that was NOT discussed by the game's seller. Now, if one wants to buy the product, the pitch that you should like the game you just purchased is there on the front page. Because the last thing we can allow is to let children think for themselves, when the opportunity exists to tell them how to think, fast and early, before they develop any opinions of their own.

We don't think about it because nowadays, the lawnmower we buy includes text before the instructions that tells us how much we're going to love our lawnmower... or the microwave, or even Christmas lights, if some justification can be made to provide printed material with the product. Sometimes, I believe the safety pamphlet is really only there as a performative way of the company telling us that they "care." As if to say, "See, we don't want you to hurt yourself by plugging in these five-watt fairy lights in some imagined manner that might cause the tiniest of shocks — if that doesn't tell you how much we LOVE you as a customer, we don't know what will."

It might be nice to buy a blender and not be told the lifestyle feeling I'm supposed to derive from owning my very own way to make pulverised carrots, but, c'est la vie. It's the world we live in now.

The difference is that my blender is not giving instructions in order to mind-fuck my players according to a supposed understood emotional contract that allows me as a DM to run a game in which the dice, or any other aspect, in an "advisory" way, for the player's larger benefit (as defined by me), to help them avoid an unwanted consequence (as defined by me), so that I can "save them" (a necessity that is, again, defined by me) from an unsatisfying game experience (as I define it). All, I might add, without admitting that I'm doing any of this.

Moreover, if a nine-year-old walks into an appliance store to buy a blender by himself, the store won't sell it to him. Guess why.

We supposedly live in a culture that views marketing and selling products as a rule-governed social practice. From the law's point of view, marketing and selling are regulated forms of public conduct. A thing may be offered to the public because it is presumed to be intelligible. The buyer is not merely handed an object; he is given a public account of what the object is, what it is for, how it is meant to be used, what sort of experience it promises and what kind of relation he is entering by purchasing it. The product’s description, packaging, instructions and surrounding language are not incidental. They form the buyer’s understanding of the thing.

At present, the role-playing game is not being sold as a product. It is being sold as a social practice. It tells persons, including children, how to exercise authority (as the company defines it), presenting it in scope as a "rule-governed game" while then immediately undermining the so-called rules by flat-out stating that the rules do not need to be followed. The DM does not need to follow them, the game is better served by not doing so, the DM should instead concentrate on the "vibe of the table," while the company argues loudly that those running the game — and again, this can be read by children able to read just as well as by adults — are empowered to subordinate the rules to flow, story, fun, pacing, and emotional management of, yes, other children.

But don't talk about that. The WOTC never does.

A company should not be legitimately permitted to give public advice, market a game as accessible and family-friendly, while at the same time pretending that it's messaging is begin received only by mature adult tables who have negotiated all ethical premises in advance. A company cannot pretend to sell this form of propaganda about how to play a game in a manner that imposes lies, manipulation and brand-serving product language and then pretend it is not responsible if children do not understand the message.

Obviously, I have no problem with a game being sold. My problem is with people being told, screamed at really, through multiple mediums, supported by a cadre of fairly ignorant lock-steppers who ALSO do not discuss children when giving advice on their youtube channels, the principles by which the game should be played.

It is the word should that really gets under my skin, to be honest. Which might sound strange to some, since I've spent a lot of time on this blog doing my own shouting about how the game "should" be played. The difference, I think — and some might disagree — is that I'm not spending my time telling people how to feel about the game, or how to ensure others feel about the game as you should. A subtle difference, to be sure. Certainly one I don't expect the majority to grasp. But there is an enormous difference between my teaching a little leaguer how to hold a bat in order to achieve the best possible swing with the best possible leverage, to permit a better physical contact with the ball, and badgering that same little leaguer into liking the game more, because he should, because it's a great game, and everyone should love it, period, no questions asked. I think there's a difference.

Feel free to disagree.