First the disclaimer. The events and statements below are true; I have not named any names as I am not attempting to pick on any of the individuals involved. My only concern is in the attitude expressed.

This editorial was inspired by the 1997 Retreat and is based on my experiences with the air miniatures system I've been "puttering" with for a number of years now. While that is the medium by which the attitudes below came out, I doubt the effect is limited to any one game, type of system, era, or what-not. Bear with me if you have no interest in air games or do not care for miniatures.

A little background: My air game grew out of an attempt to translate J.D. Webster's WW2 system (Over the Reich and Actung: Spitfire! both by Clash of Arms Games) to miniatures. I did this not as any sort of publishable venture, but rather as something for my own amusement. In the process, I ran across those things J.D. had to simplify for the mass audience and decided to add them back in to improve the physical model. The result was a nice little game I could mess with, but that was far too complex for many people and just too slow to play. Next I chose to rework the game into a computer format by going back to the basics: aerodynamics and physics. Now the game uses a massive computer spreadsheet that models flight behavior very accurately, with the player only needing to move the controls: stick, throttle, rudder pedals. Rather than track flight or accel points or consult charts, the player literally "flies" the plane the same as the real pilot would.

At the retreat, I was able to participate in some 500 game turns of play (yes, 500), rotating a number of new players in and out in what amounted to a five-way cutthroat game in which a player who got shot down immediately re-entered play with a new plane. The result was a never-ending furball and a lot of fun for all. I was very happy with the effect of accuarate aircraft behavior as players handled cockpit controls. Most of the players who rotated into the game seemed to agree.

On occasion, though, I heard comments that made me wonder what is it we ask our games to model in general. The most succinct remark was delivered by a player who wasn't even in the game. He said:

"If I wanted to learn to fly a plane, I'd take flying lessons."

In manual/paper air games, players have to track the various points and values that model flight. Therefore the player who is most able to arrange his "points" in the right order is rewarded with a kill. The guy in the "better" aircraft can usually make use of 100% of his aircraft's ability to fly rings around a less capable opposing aircraft.

In the game I have developed, the player who is the best pilot will extract the highest utility out of his aircraft--an aircraft which might be at a disadvantage in technical ability, but whose performance seems better because of the player's ability to make his crate do more with what it has.

Put another way, say player A has a plane which is worth 100%, while player B's is worth only 60%. Now, player A is only able to extract 20% of his aircraft's ability (due to inexperience, preconceptions, or whatever), while player B can manage 90% of his. As a result, player A's aircraft seems to function only at a 20% level while B gets along with 54%. The result is A gets his clock cleaned and believes his plane didn't perform as advertised (it didn't, but not for the reasons he believes...).

What value is an air-to-air combat system where you don't fly the plane? Most such games give assorted modifiers for expert pilots and aces, while my game relies on the player's ability as a pilot to determine such effects. Isn't the design of an air-to-air game supposed to reward the player who is the better pilot? Or is it to reward the guy who is best at getting all his "turn factors" in the right boxes? I'd rather reward the guy who can make his aircraft dance on the edge of a stall getting maximum value out of his machine while maintaining tight control, than the guy who has figured out every table break and the maximum angle shot he can get away with while avoiding bad modifiers.

While many role-players seem to play games where they can enjoy more strength, beauty, power, intelligence or magical capabilities than any mere mortal has--in other words, fantasy--historical wargamers are here to learn what it takes to do the historical operations. Now, I agree, that even in my air game the player's job is greatly simplified compared with the real participant's. Still, the game should attempt to evaluate a player's ability to perform the historical task. This can be either to run a successful armored operation at the corps level by allocating units and resources as he thinks best or to fly a fighter aircraft on the edge of its flight envelope.

Lastly, remember that the player is only being evaluated in relation to his opponents. He need not hunt out Chuck Yeager to see if he is better than a real ace--he need only beat the mug across the table.

It may be difficult to develop a "literal interface" to, say, the OCS, but this approach could easily apply to an assortment of naval games. Some of you might be able to apply the argument to other series and game systems. The TCS and CWB combine point-based abstractions with more literal orders and Op Sheets.

The crux of the concern is this: do we play these games to determine who is better at playing games, or who is better at the type of military operation being shown? For my part, I hope it is the latter, as I want to further my knowledge of how things work--be it an airborne invasion or how to do a rolling scissors maneuver on an enemy aircraft. It is difficult for me to think of anything more useless than learning how to maximize point expenditure where that is the only goal. Surprisingly to me, there are those who feel differently, who learned what fighter aircraft do by throwing "maneuver" cards and have no idea how the maneuver is really executed. Guys who feel it is their job to arrange the "points" properly while their "pilot" knows how to do what is asked.

I want the player to be the pilot. To learn the ins and outs of the maneuvers he wants to do. To learn to extract maximum performance from his aircraft while keeping it under positive control. I understand that some gamers have different priorities and that is fine--what worries me is that players might be too interested in gaming a game, to the point where they are willing to throw reality out the window. I was always under the impression that simulating the reality was what this was all about.

Am I asking too much?

Letter to Editor Response (#28)