Eating the fruit of knowledge
Remember when we were kids, and games didn't have rule books? You were on the playground, and the rules were made up as you went along. Nobody really even knew what the rules were, because just playing the game was more important. Of course, it's only a matter of time until the kid-whose-mom-didn't-hug-him-enough decided to write in the rule that he got the infinite super power that let him kill everyone at once. Disaffected, most of the kids went off to find a new game to play, because there was no appeal to such wanton rewriting of the rules.
And thus, rulebooks were born.
But this isn't really about rulebooks. It's more about the thinking that goes into them, and what that means. When we get ourselves going for gaming, we need to set up rules for reasons obvious enough that I'm not going to waste your time and mine writing them here. But it puts us in a mode of thinking. We have to analyze rules, balance, mechanics, how complicated things are, and so on. We have to kind of break down that, "Let's just play the game," mentality for the theoretical greater good. That greater good being, of course, a good, solid game that anyone can sit down and play.
But what worries me is how pervasive thinking about things like rules, mechanics, game balance and so on becomes. I mean, I do it too, obviously. I enjoy writing games, and that's a necessary part of it. Even since I was a young gamer, I got really into rules. I - fortunately - never turned into the "rules lawyer" that many people I know did (yuck). Still, I was just fascinated by rules. That's not the point though. At what point does thinking critically about rules ruin playing the game?
Once you cross that line and bite into the fruit of knowledge - that is to say, thinking about rules critically - can you ever go back? Does it become possible to play a game and not worry about the gears making the machine go? Is it even a bad thing if we don't? Maybe it's not having everyone in the game you're playing thinking critically about rules. Maybe, like so many other things, it's a social issue. Maybe what I hope for is not that people will stop taking about rules so much, or thinking about balance and other concerns. Maybe instead, what I need is for the gamers of the world not to be dicks about it.
Then again, am I asking the sun not to rise and set there? Hm.
And thus, rulebooks were born.
But this isn't really about rulebooks. It's more about the thinking that goes into them, and what that means. When we get ourselves going for gaming, we need to set up rules for reasons obvious enough that I'm not going to waste your time and mine writing them here. But it puts us in a mode of thinking. We have to analyze rules, balance, mechanics, how complicated things are, and so on. We have to kind of break down that, "Let's just play the game," mentality for the theoretical greater good. That greater good being, of course, a good, solid game that anyone can sit down and play.
But what worries me is how pervasive thinking about things like rules, mechanics, game balance and so on becomes. I mean, I do it too, obviously. I enjoy writing games, and that's a necessary part of it. Even since I was a young gamer, I got really into rules. I - fortunately - never turned into the "rules lawyer" that many people I know did (yuck). Still, I was just fascinated by rules. That's not the point though. At what point does thinking critically about rules ruin playing the game?
Once you cross that line and bite into the fruit of knowledge - that is to say, thinking about rules critically - can you ever go back? Does it become possible to play a game and not worry about the gears making the machine go? Is it even a bad thing if we don't? Maybe it's not having everyone in the game you're playing thinking critically about rules. Maybe, like so many other things, it's a social issue. Maybe what I hope for is not that people will stop taking about rules so much, or thinking about balance and other concerns. Maybe instead, what I need is for the gamers of the world not to be dicks about it.
Then again, am I asking the sun not to rise and set there? Hm.
