"When I design a game, I'm designing a toy. It is a toy informed by historical knowledge, but it's still a toy."--Sam Mustufa, MWAN #127
TOY n : 1. A pastime or sport; 2. Something paltry or trifling; 3. Something for a child to play with; 4. A diversion or something that can be toyed with.
We play games with toys. We push little lead or plastic figures around on tables dotted with plaster houses, dyed lichen, and plastic trees. To quote the muscular new California `Governator': `There's no two ways about it'--we play with toys.
And so? Lots of adults play with toys. They play with model trains. Or they make birdhouses with the recreational band saw in the garage. Even the gent that continually tinkers with that 1957 Corvette he never drives is playing with a toy. Adults play with toys all the time for all sorts of reasons. It's a time-honored source of entertainment and relaxation.
Obviously, a toy is not a finite thing-it is defined by its use. That '57 Corvette can be transportation for work, an investment, a work of art, or a toy. It's all dependent on the intentions of the user. Our wargame toys in the hands of a teacher become educational tools, or if used by military personnel, they can become a training technology. Our hobby intentionally uses them as toys.
The same is true for words-use often defines them. When folks say wargamers play with toys, they can mean a number of things. Some are saying our hobby is a pastime, a pleasant diversion shared by hundreds of adults. When others say miniatures are toys, they're implying something very different: that the pastime is relatively unimportant. It's a way of saying "they're not that important", so don't take them so seriously"-the rationale often being that a hobby can't be `serious' and be fun too.
But how serious is that serious? This is the real question, regardless of what you might call our wargames and miniatures. What `level' of seriousness is appropriate for a hobby if any? Comparatively, playing a game of Fire & Fury or Day of Battle is no more inherently serious than playing an afternoon of golf, boating on a lake, throwing a clay pot, or participating in a chess tournament. All possess about the same level of `seriousness' and all have the participants basically playing with toys.
So, How Serious Should We Get About Our Toys?
And yet, adults do get very serious about fun sports, pastimes, and their toys. Folks in this hobby are no different. Our hobby is serious enough that any numbers of people invest huge amounts of time and money on it. Others depend on wargaming for their livelihood-it is serious enough to support businesses and even a few adult careers. Yet, it still is just a hobby and primarily meant to be an enjoyable pastime.
So how serious `should' we be about wargaming? This isn't an esoteric question. It is so universal and so fundamental that all wargamers have developed answers. Those conclusions guide gamer involvement in the hobby--even the tenor of the hobby itself. Gamers express their opinions on the subject constantly, usually when some behavious seems to violate what they consider the `appropriate' level of seriousness. That makes it important. The question about `how serious we should be' with our hobby also has several facets, social, cultural, and one relating to the entire hobby.
SOCIALLY SERIOUS
Socially, we've all played wargames with folks who take their toys far too seriously, their emotional responses to hobby activities being far too intense. I remember one fellow that was part of our miniatures group when I was teenager in L.A. When he made a mistake or suffered a bad die roll, he banged his head against the nearest wall-hard. We all tensed up whenever he had to roll the dice.
Sometimes the spoilers have an overbearing concern about the historical detail in the games rather than playing them. Other times the fun is lost when gamers haggle over the rules, winning the debate becoming more important than even winning the game. And then some gamers become too serious about even winning to enjoy playing the game itself.
Such behavior isn't good for a hobby or any other pastime for that matter. The June 7th issue of U.S. News had an article on "Fixing Kids' Sports". Organized sports for kids are on the decline in the U.S. It seems that parents and coaches were becoming `too serious' about winning and it has wrecked the fun for many kids and parents. They stopped participating in organized kids' sports like soccer and little league. Now the effort is to put the `fun' back in.
Of course, there are gamers who don't take the hobby seriously enough. They simply don't care. They ruin gaming for others by not knowing the rules or not paying attention during the game. So, how seriously should we take the social aspects of wargaming?
We need to take the social aspects of our wargames and our hobby seriously enough to support the fun, but not so seriously that it becomes a grim and unpleasant experience.
Socially, that requires a sense of balance between the fun and seriousness, enjoyment and care. That is easy to say, and tough to do at times. That's why there have been articles addressing 'wargaming etiquette' in MWAN and other hobby journals-it can be complicated and it's much easier when made explicit.
CULTURALLY SERIOUS
One complication is that different gamers require different levels and even different kinds of seriousness to make it their hobby enjoyable. "Fun" has a huge number of meanings among wargamers. We have everything from the scholar gamer who enjoys researching the history in the games as much as playing them. There are the social, beer-and-pretzel enthusiasts, and some like tournament competition. Others even enjoy painting miniatures and building little armies far more than actually engaging in games with them.
One gamer enjoys creating game rules, while another enjoys critiquing them. Yet, everyone is in the hobby for the fun. And it goes without saying that at times there can be friction between gamers when they each enter a game or hobby activity wanting to enjoy it in very different ways.
Our hobby should have a place for them all. I, like many gamers, enjoy the hobby for many different reasons and in many different ways. I even enjoy writing about what it is we do. How serious is that?
We all live with this myriad of attitudes about our hobby and fun, and many of us desire it. But that really isn't an issue-it's an unavoidable condition of the hobby. The question here is how the hobby culture deals with it. Cultures usually develop informal rules, expected behaviors that protect what the group collectively considers important-you know, serious. Our hobby culture is no different.
ALL GAMERS ARE VERY SERIOUS ABOUT THEIR FUN
Well, one thing every gamer is serious about is their fun. That is the whole point of the hobby. Consequently, heaven help the poor fellow that gets between a gamer and his fun. In fact, hobby debates can devolve into accusations that one side or the other is `telling me what I should enjoy.'
Not surprisingly, this determined defense of what a gamer individually finds enjoyable can keep groups of gamers from `agreeing on anything.' This in turn can fuel a fear that any hobby call for general agreement somehow threatens to trample their particular brand of fun. This seriousness about personal fun is a major underpinning for our hobby's very idiosyncratic culture.
Yet it's an ironclad rule: "you don't mess with another person's fun." If the indignation exhibited when this rule is broken is a measure for seriousness, then in this hobby, our personal fun is sacrosanct. It is as consecrated as our belief in the Freedom of Speech. What does that mean? It means that if you are going to be a part of this hobby, you'd better take that rule, "Don't mess with another person's fun", seriously and show it some respect or your gaming will quickly become unpleasant.
Good word, "respect." Yet respect is a fairly serious word, and it demands some 'unfun' labor to function. It requires folks to care. Even so, I don't think anyone would argue that a little respect all around makes for a much more enjoyable hobby atmosphere.
RESPECT AS THE TOUCHSTONE FOR OUR "SERIOUSNESS:"
RESPECT n : 1. to refrain from interfering with (-one's privacy.); 2. to hold worthy of high regard; 3. the act of giving particular attention to: CONSIDERATION.
Well, obviously we have dealt with the first definition of respect: "Don't interfere with others' fun." And the third definition applies too: be considerate of others' choices in enjoying the hobby. But as gamers, what do we feel serious enough about in the hobby to `hold in high regard?" That's easy. We all respect individual gamers for their contributions to the hobby-and consequently our fun. For instance, we all respect Hal Thinglum for the years of dedication he gave to MWAN and the excellence found in every issue. Many game designers, retailers, artists and conference organizers should be and are respected for the same dedication, the same `seriousness.' These fellow wargamers prove that being serious about the hobby and having fun are not mutually exclusive behaviors.
At this point, I don't think anyone finds what's been said all that surprising. I would imagine most would agree that we should be serious enough to respect each other's hobby choices and particularly honor those who give so much to make the hobby enjoyable.
But what about our hobby itself? On the whole, how seriously should we take it? It comes back to remembering what we are all trying to do. Of course, we are out to have fun, but that is the goal of every hobby. What makes our hobby unique from other pastimes and why should we respect that?
RESPECTING OUR HOBBY
How many times have you heard or read on the internet lists where someone reminded another gamers that `we're just play with toy soldiers'? While it is very true, there are two pervasive problems with this all too common observation, and it has to do with respect, not for individuals, but respect for the hobby. It is a `seriousness' that has a lot to do with our fun.
The first problem concerns the collective hobby intent and how we represent ourselves. A while back I was at a shopping mall where a group of gamers were putting on a demonstration miniatures game. From the large crowd around the game table, many folks were curious. It was not surprising-the presentation was intriguing and the table layout was very impressive, a large Civil war battle. Many spectators asked "What is this all about?" and "What are you doing?" The gamers where prepared for the questions. What do you think they said? "We're just playing with toy soldiers?"
Of course not. The gamers' actual answers encapsulated the intent of the historical wargame hobby: "We're using game rules and miniatures to recreate historical battles"; "We are refighting famous battles of history"; "It's like chess, but the game rules try to simulate historical conditions." Etc. etc. The intent of historical wargames is to capture something of history on the game table. That is the heart of our hobby and the unique fun it offers. It's simple regard-no, not even that serious-rather just a recognition of the hobby's core purpose.
The table markers and rules-the toys-are not identified as the core intent of the hobby, but rather the tools for achieving that goal.
ALL historical wargamers share the same goal to some degree. In fact, the degree to which a gamer pursues recreating history on the tabletop-how seriously they take it-often differentiates between the various `kinds' of historical wargames and particular brands of fun, from beer-and-pretzel games to complex simulations. Yet, they all want to `game' history somehow.
If you doubt the truth of this, listen to how the wargame sellers talk to the wargame buyer. They all sell the same thing: fun in the guise of recreating history. Some wargames offer a little history, like BattleCry's "15 stylized Civil War battles." And some offer a lot of history, as Johnny Reb does with "all the problems commanding formed bodies of men in the midst of the maelstrom of battle." Regardless of the amount, they're all selling the history in the games.
Every historical wargame ever marketed explicitly states the same intent: to capture something of the past. Obviously, the games will never capture all of history. The most we can hope for is some authentic part of history, however small. Frank Chadwick, the introduction to his Age of Frederick rules, acknowledges this:
- "Reading about a battle is one thing; recreating it on the game table is something else entirely. And yet, we continue to try, and our attempts are not without merit. But wargaming is a formal, deliberate sort of pastime, and war usually isn't. So we capture part of the thing, but we have to let another part of it go."
That is why Sam Mustafa adds that his toys are "informed by historical knowledge" it is what makes his toys a part of the historical wargame hobby. Tim Kubrick, in his article, "Once More Into the Breach" in MWAN #129 detailed this hobby focus. Military history is what makes our hobby unique from other hobbies, including fantasy gaming.
As Frank notes, we should honor those attempts as having merit. It is honoring the goal of the entire hobby, but how do we show it? We can joke about playing with toys, but if meant seriously-it's selling the hobby short, Really-what kind of new gamer will come into the hobby if we simply say that we're playing with toys? Respecting the intent of the hobby doesn't require everyone to go grim and argumentative, or have to defend some notion of the hobby as far more significant than it actually is.
Again, a balance is necessary, but when we don't take it seriously enough, it hurts our hobby by misrepresenting and devaluing what makes it unique-and uniquely fun.
The second problem concerns the essential `bodies of knowledge' for historical wargames: history and game design. They both are fundamental to the quality of the hobby-our games are entirely dependent on them. If the core, unique aspect of our hobby is an attempt to `capture' history in our game mechanics, then we also need to acknowledge how critical written history and game design are to our hobby fun.
Unfortunately, the hobby offers too many mixed messages. Game design and history are maligned and misunderstood as often as they are honored. We often deny the value of attempting to `capture history', even while committing huge amounts of time and resources to the attempt.
Our game designers are certainly claiming to `capture history' with their games They often assert that years of research and design work were carried out, which seems pretty serious. It is what we gamers look for; the history in our games is important to us. If gamers' and designers' actions are any indication of what they value, they often value history over simple fun. Even Sam Mustafa, who admittedly designed his Grande Armee to be a fun game, is quite willing to sacrifice some of that fun for history. Explaining one game mechanic in his rule book he admits:
- " ... If the defender is doing what he is supposed to he doing, then all combats will be grueling 1:1 slugfests. That may not he as much fun as the way other games let you do it, but that's the way it was in the Napoleonic wars."
- --Sam Mustafa, Grande Armee, Page 38
"The way it was." That's what we're looking for and in some form that's what every Historical wargame designer offers. Here are some designers' statements asserting this for their game designs. Note that these statements cover nearly thirty years of tabletop gaming. Some of these designers claim their games are simulations, while others don't even believe simulations are possible:
"The intent is to place players in the position of corps and army commanders and let them refight decisive battles of history in their entirety."
- --Frank Chadwick, Volley and Bayonet. Page 88
"The Major goal of the rules is to give the gamer insight into the tactics of the period. Tactics are not the stale mechanical `constructs' that we see in so many other rules. They are rather, a fascinating and complex intermixing of the capability of all the combat arms, that are tied to the difficulties of command at the Grand Tactical level."
- --William Keyser, Valmy to Waterloo, Page 1
"My first goal with Piquet was to allow a more fluid and realistic treatment of time in the battlefield environment."
- --Bob Jones, the Piquet website Designers Notes.
"Consequently, Shako simulates the difficulties inherent in moving and maintaining order within large formations. The system of Orders used in Shako emphasizes the pre-battle planning and battle management necessary to fight such battles."
- --Arty Conliffe [Introduction]
"The ebb and flow of Civil War conflict has been recreated in Fire and Fury, an innovative game system using miniature armies to recreate battles of the American Civil War. The system, the result of five years of development, emphasizes playability without sacrificing historical accuracy."
- --Rich Hasenauer, Fire and Fury rules book, page 3
"By abstracting the detailed mechanics of combat, we allow the gamer to rapidly fight the battle and make the decisions that are appropriate for an overall commander. ... "
- --Battle Front: WWII, Fire & Fury Co. website.
- --John Hill, Johnny Reb, Introduction, page viii
There it is, designers offer you history, even when it's not fun and very difficult. Why? Because we actually want and enjoy the challenges of historical command. We want the military history--that's what the hobby is about.
The problem is that we, gamers and designers, often fail to respect that desire, and in doing so, fail to communicate it in a meaningful way. When the above claims are made, they often aren't seriously valued. Too often they are denigrated, denied, or just ignored by both designers and gamers. For enjoying a very intellectual pastime, wargamers often eschew the basic intellectual needs of our hobby.
RESPECT FOR HISTORY AND GAME DESIGN
How? The designers quoted above seem serious about what they've said, but not serious enough to articulate where got their ideas about `the way it was'. Historical accuracy is declared explicitly, but how their designs are `accurate' is never explained-by any of them. In his introduction, Richard Hasenauer described how he made Fire and Fury `playable', but he never addresses how he retained the `historical accuracy,' or even what constitutes that game quality.
For the word `accuracy' to be meaningful, the design has to be compared to some identified target outside of it. In this case, the target obviously is written history. The specific history used is never identified by ANY of the designers quoted above. That means their claims of accuracy are absolutely meaningless. It's like an archer who claims to have hit the bullseye, knowing it is important to the spectators, but then never bothers to locate either the arrow or the target for them to see.
In his book, The Modern Researcher, Jacques Barzun says that "information that isn't properly presented, for all intents and purposes, does not exist." That is a major problem at the moment for our games. So much research and design creativity is expended, but most all the specific history used isn't available to anyone, because it isn't identified. It is wasted time and effort.
It shouldn't be surprising that when questions arise about `capturing' history in our games, too often it ends with someone saying, "we're just playing with toy soldiers, after all" [so don't take it so seriously.] Imagine reenactors dismissing basic historical questions of uniforms or unit maneuvers or what `re-enacting' means by saying "Hey, remember, we're just playing dress-up." Of course, they might say it if they had no idea how accurate the information was or where to find it and therefore simply wanted to avoid an unanswerable question.
This lack of specific information certainly leaves gamers with little to go on, allowing them to dismiss what designers are saying. Some suggest that such issues about history and game design are inappropriate for a `fun' hobby. It suggests that when designers say they are presenting `the way it was' that it doesn't mean anything. We are often invited to not take designers' claims of historical accuracy seriously-that is, believing the designer's notes actually mean something tangible.
There are two ways we all do this. The first is to dismiss such statements completely as only the designer's personal `fantasy', representing little more than the designer's idiosyncratic self-expression-just their way of having fun. A number of gamers claim all historical wargaming is no more than someone's personal `fantasy.' I think it is obvious that the designers who wrote the quotes above about their work didn't believe that. Using the word `accurate' and stating `that's the way it was' is the antithesis of fantasy.
Other gamers consider designer's notes simply `hype' to sell games, suggesting that all the claims in a designer's notes are just empty phrases calculated to sell games. They're simply telling wargamers what they want to hear. That cheapens what the designers say they're doing-but allows gamers to ignore the implications of such comments, and in doing so, it cheapens the hobby.
Of course, such flippant attitudes are encouraged when designers never bother to substantiate their claims, but the designers are not offering hype. Remember the Pepsi commercial where two small boys sit on opposite ends of a park bench, one with a CokeŽ displayed in his hand and the other with a PepsiŽ? A little girl comes along and chooses to sit by the boy with the Pepsi. Cute, but no one takes it seriously. It's hype.
Now, if the Pepsi Cola Company issued a research report detailing how their soft drink actually does `get the girl'--claiming that in reality `that's the way it is', the commercial and the Pepsi Company's intent becomes something far different than hype or simple promotion. The same is true when our designers claim accuracy, where their games illustrate `the way it was.'
The designers' failure to back their claims with evidence and meaningful explanations hurts the hobby. Garners' willingness to dismiss their comments as meaningless or hype demonstrates a Tack of regard for what designers are attempting to do. They often dedicate years to designing games we play. It devalues the hobby itself.
What happens to the hobby when those designers never respect their audience enough to substantiate their claims, while their audience isn't seriously listening to them in the first place? At best, gamers are left in the dark concerning the content of their games, the history and game design `accuracy.' The words are repeated, but no one knows what they mean.
The worst outcome is where everyone is given permission to avoid thinking seriously about the hobby itself, including the public at large-"Don't take it so seriously, we're just playing with toys." How can we expect others take our hobby `seriously', if we don't?
THE CARE AND MAINTENANCE OF OUR HOBBY
Each hobby has areas of `care,' or heightened considerations necessary for maximum fun. You know, serious things. Boating requires safety rules and life jackets, racquetball requires stretching and wearing goggles. Chess requires relative quiet and concentration. Pottery requires keeping the clay the right consistency while avoiding air bubbles. Ignore these concerns and any pastime activity can become seriously `less fun' in a hurry. Our hobby has them too-and I'm not talking watching where we put our hands when moving stands of Macedonian pikemen or French Lancers.
Ours is a very cerebral pastime, game play representing another environment, another reality entirely. Not surprisingly, two of our hobby's primary areas of `care' involve the intellectual: history and game design. Often the reality of such abstract needs is less obvious than potential boating accidents or a pot exploding in a kiln, but they can impact the fun just as readily if ignored. So, what are designers to do-and how would that make for more fun?
It might be a reason why gamers spend so much time researching Orders of Battle and maps compared to the sources behind the actual game design. They are so concrete and easily identifiable in the history books in contrast to the game mechanics and abstractions like the +2 for charging cuirassiers--or is it phalanxes? No, it's for the armor on the Tiger tank. The solution is very simple. Designers should:
- Identify the specific history used as a template for their rules .
Explain what they mean by accurately `simulating', 'refighting', `capturing', `recreating', and `creating a realistic treatment' of history. These claims can be fairly easy to define.
Simply listing the reference books read by the designer at the end of the rules really doesn't mean much. Designers must note the specific information they have incorporated into their design. Not each factoid, but the general conclusions used.
For instance, designers often include books by Bowden, Chandler, and Nafziger when listing their references for a Napoleonic game design. As Barzun points out, this doesn't tell us much of anything, other than the designer claims to have read them. The actual information used doesn't exist for the reader because it isn't properly identified.
Each of the three authors, Bowden, Chandler, and Nafziger, have come to some very different conclusions about command, combat and tactics. Which conclusions were used in the game design? How would anyone know that unless the designer tells them? Garners can reasonably assume just about anything because all three authors are listed without any reference to what parts of their books were used as templates for the game mechanics.
Garners in turn waste a lot of time trying to guess what information was used, or coming to the wrong conclusions based on different historical data. We've all had that experience.
Designers can claim `accuracy', but it means absolutely nothing if the specific target is never identified. So much of the fussing that goes on across the lists and between historically-minded gamers would be either eliminated or redirected in more productive directions with this one practice. It sure would save designers a heck of a lot of time defending (read identifying) the history in their design.
Designers need to identify the information their designs depend on. If an author's historical conclusions were used, say so. If more than one work had the same information, you only need to note one of them. If the author's ideas weren't used at all, why list the book? To have a longer list? The designer isn't writing history or documenting all of his historical sources, only noting those that were used as the foundation of his design. I would think that listing one major source for each subsystem of the rules would be enough. That would be a book list no longer than the ones you see with game rules now.
For example, Col. Bill Gray designed the popular Age of Eagles, his Napoleonic version of Fire and Fury system, which he will be publishing soon. He has stated that he used B.P. Hughes' Firepower as the source for his casualty tables. By identifying his source, he has provided the target for determining the `accuracy' of his design. Age of Eagles will be `accurate' if it faithfully models Hughes' conclusions concerning casualty rates from fire combat during the Napoleonic wars.
Any questions about the `accuracy' of Hughes' conclusions in his book are issues for historians and `accuracy' as defined by historigraphical methods, not wargame design. Bill Gray isn't required to defend Hughes' work for his design to be considered `accurate.' He certainly doesn't have to write his own history book. Bill is not required to prove that 3% casualties is true, particularly when Hughes has already written a book of military history in an attempt to prove it. Bill is responsible for his game design, not someone else's historical study.
This has been the working definition of simulation `accuracy' among professional simulation designers for decades now: the quality of a simulation is completely dependent on the quality of the information used and how `accurately' the simulation mimics it. The two points are both used to determine the value of the simulation, but they remain two distinct issues. The Simulation designer is only responsible for his creation, not someone else's. This is certainly true for our wargames.
This clarity would better focus wargame debates about design `accuracy' and eliminate other howlers where issues of design accuracy and historical accuracy are so mixed together that nothing is resolved.
Our wargames are completely dependent on written history, but they are not written history. Garners are obviously interested in military history and a few game designers are beginning to write history, but game design and history remain two very different things. That kind of intellectual clarity can only help the hobby. It is already helping written history. Wargamers are helping uncover primary sources and new information, as well as ask new questions.
One reason is the greater availability of information via the Internet, particularly primary sources. Another is that wargamers have started writing military history, history that questions past assumptions and asks different questions of the available information from a wargamer's point of view. See Brent Nosworthy's comments on this in the last chapter of the Bloody Crucible of Courage and George Daly's observations in his new book Cannae about wargaming's influence on current military history, particularly wargamer Ducan Head's contributions to ancient history. We, as a hobby, can take some pride in that--without taking it too seriously.
And sometimes wargamers are just as apt to resist such `new information' as any staid academician, like Nosworthy's conclusions about ACW combat, simply because it means that their favorite rules would have to be changed because they are based on now dated material even though the design will still be `accurate', faithfully portraying the `old' history. Garners want the best, most up-to-date historical data in their games, which will keep designers hopping and new games-and variants-being produced.
BALANCING THE SERIOUSNESS
Doing a better job of balancing the seriousness and the fun of our hobby, our playing with toys, can be very beneficial. It affects game design, what we say to each other about wargaming-and don't say-and it affects our ability innovate and to draw others into the hobby.
Critical to that balance is a regard for the core intent of the hobby. Most all hobbies are social. Most all hobbies have a variety of areas of enjoyment to be explored. All hobbies are about fun. And all hobbies retain a communal awareness of the primary intent of the hobby, it's primary attraction, and what makes it unique from other hobbies.
It's not easy, but when a balance of fun and seriousness is achieved, it is a powerful indication of the hobby's maturity. Not gamer maturity, but the hobby as a whole. It's when we've developed a common-respected-set of beliefs and understandings about what it is we do for fun. That balance has a huge impact on the enjoyment, clarity, and growth of the hobby, if other hobbies are any indication. Seriously.
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