It’s Ask Angry time.

Every month, I choose one to three reader-submitted questions to answer in my sick, abusive parody of advice columns. To be clear, though, the advice itself is absolutely solid. It’s the best advice you’ll get from anyone anywhere about running and playing games in which the players pretend to be elves. I just don’t sugarcoat anything and I’m not afraid to call it like I see it. The best truths are harsh truths and the best love is tough love.

Not that I love any of you. I don’t.

If the above sounds like a great way to get you some gaming advice, send your question to ask.angry@angry.games and maybe I’ll answer it in a future column. I do get a lot of questions, though; I can’t answer them all. The best way to make your question stand out, apart from asking a question that I think a lot of people need to hear the answer to, is to keep it as brief as possible. If I can tell at one quick glance that it’s a question I want to answer, you’re getting picked for sure. I’m pretty lazy. Otherwise, the more opportunities I see to abuse you unfairly and cruelly, the more likely I am to pick your question.

Today’s question, though, is a doozy. It failed the brevity test — it could have been cut down to one sentence — but the extra bullshit added a lot of unfair abuse potential. Moreover, it’s definitely full of shit I think lots of folks in the gaming community need to hear. So, Tim, I hope your answer is worth what I’m gonna put you through. If not, just know your broken spirit will help make a lot of other Game Masters suck a little less, and that I’m going to have a blast writing this. You’ve made this a good day for me.

Those are good consolation prizes, right?

Tim asks…

How do you train players who have established bad habits?

Specifically, the neophytes who don’t believe in full agency and player choice. They want to ask for a check to complete a task instead of declaring an action and they think that talking in character is roleplaying.

P.S.: I have sadly stopped playing RPGs with my group because I don’t have fun with them anymore, but I don’t want to give up on them.

Holy crap on a charcuterie, Tim, you should have stopped at the first question mark. If you had done that, you’d be getting a very different answer and a lot less abuse. But you just couldn’t shut your stupid fingers up, could you? Of course not. No one ever does. It’s amazing how two sentences and a postscript can totally recontextualize an otherwise reasonable question. One I get asked a lot, by the way, and, therefore, one I’m happy for the chance to answer. The problem is there’s a lot of other ground to cover first.

See, there are some things in your word choice, Tim, that suggest that the reasonable, correct answer I’ve got for that question may be wasted on you. Like, I’m not sure you’ll actually be able to do what needs to be done. Of course, as I’ll admit below, I could be totally wrong. I hope I am. If so, I’m sorry for everything that’s about to happen to you.

This is Your Brain on Distortion

Have any of y’all heard of Cognitive Distortions? What about you, Tim? Do you know what those are?

As the name suggests, Cognitive Distortions are patterns of thinking that bias or skew your perception of reality. They’re pretty common — everyone’s thinking is a little distorted from time to time — but when you act on distorted thoughts, you end up with stress, strife, and conflict. Cognitive Distortions are tricky to spot — especially when you’re the source of cognition — but you have to learn to recognize them — and reframe your thoughts — especially in social situations — like tabletop roleplaying game sessions — especially when you’re in a position of authority — like the Game Master of a tabletop roleplaying gaming group.

I know this seems like a complete non-sequitur, but it’s actually really important that I cover this because the actual question in your e-mail, Tim, is about Conflict Resolution. You’re in a conflict. Now, most people see the word conflict and think fight, but conflicts occur whenever what you want is at odds with what other people want. Or what they’re doing. You need my help to resolve your conflict and you can’t resolve a conflict if your thinking’s all distorted.

Now, I know that implies I suspect your thinking, Tim, might be distorted, but that wasn’t my intention. I didn’t mean to imply it; I meant to say it outright that I think your thoughts are skewed and you need to fix them before you can fix anything else.

Let me explain…

One common kind of Cognitive Distortion is called Jumping to Conclusions. Yes, that’s the psychological term for it. Jumping to Conclusions means you’re making assumptions based on little to no evidence. One important subcategory of Jumping to Conclusions is called Mind Reading. That’s when you make assumptions about people’s thoughts, feelings, or motivations based solely on their actions.

Let me give you an example. Recently, this screaming social media dumbass told me, “A player that’s unwilling to read and learn the rules obviously doesn’t respect me — the Game Master — or my game.” Likewise, someone once told me in my comment section, “If a player skips a game session, that means they don’t respect you.”

Those are examples of Mind Reading.

There are actually a great many possible reasons why a player might fail to learn the rules of the roleplaying game. Maybe the player just can’t afford to drop $50 on a rulebook for a game he plays casually every other week for a few hours. Maybe he’s got no time to read a dry-ass 300-page textbook about pretending to elf properly between his full-time job, taking care of his family, and finishing his degree. Maybe he’s genuinely trying to get the rules, but the overcomplicated, badly-presented, byzantine esoterica that weighs down most roleplaying game systems just keeps falling out of his head. Maybe that’s why he also failed precalculus and never got his high school diploma.

Likewise, maybe the player isn’t intentionally skipping games to give you the finger. Maybe he just has the worst damned luck. Maybe he’s having a really hard time right now and he’s trying to balance ten thousand stresses in his life and he’s actually way more upset about missing the one fun thing he has to look forward to every other week while his shit life is falling apart around him.

You just don’t know.

Everyone’s lives and inner states are just as complicated as yours, but you’re not privy to them the way you are your own. You only know the actions they take. The ones you see. Judged only by your actions, lots of people might not have a very high opinion of you. Things you know for sure were innocent mistakes or due to overwhelming stress might seem like insults to others. So you should never assume anything about what’s going on in someone’s head based solely on their actions and you absolutely shouldn’t impose judgments or assume malice evidence. If a player said, “I’m skipping your stupid game because it’s boring as hell and I hate it and I hate you,” it’d be reasonable to assume the player doesn’t have a lot of respect for me. Otherwise, though, all I know is the player skipped the game.

So, yeah, Tim, maybe the problem really is that your players, how did you put it… let me see… your players don’t believe in full agency or player choice. Maybe, they really have established bad habits, despite also being complete neophytes. Or maybe they don’t know how to play any differently? Or maybe what you’re asking them to do is actually way harder than you think for others even though it comes naturally to you? Or maybe — just fucking maybe — they’re playing the game the way that’s fun for them. What you’re calling bad habits is down to a difference in preferred playstyles and the way you want to run the game isn’t the way they want to play it.

You just don’t know.

Admittedly, I also don’t know what’s going on in your head. I’m making assumptions. I could be totally wrong. You, Tim, might have clear evidence of Agency Heresy and maybe the players have just stubbornly refused to listen to your reasonable attempts to correct how they play your game. Assuming it is your game. I’ll get to that in a moment. If I am wrong, I’m sorry Tim, but I do appreciate you serving as a whipping boy because I actually do know — I have evidence — that numerous members of the online gaming community need to learn this lesson even if you’re not one of them and I’m totally mischaracterizing you.

What I did there, by the way, is called Challenging Your Thinking. It’s how you break out of many Cognitive Distortions. For Mind Reading, if you find yourself using negative language or making negative judgments about someone based on their actions — “they are playing wrong because of bad habits that arise from a refusal to believe in important gaming concepts like agency” — you must ask yourself if there are any other possible interpretations of the situation that might lead to the same action.

Why am I making a big deal about this? It’s because you’re about to attempt to resolve a conflict, Tim, and if you go into Conflict Resolution with distorted thinking, then I can almost guarantee that conflict is going to mean fight.

Consider the player who skipped several sessions because his life is going off the rails. I go in assuming he’s got no respect for me or my game and confront him over it. The accusation makes him defensive. I don’t listen to him because he won’t apologize for disrespecting me — an injustice that must be corrected — and he won’t listen to me because his entire life is falling apart and he’s one frayed nerve from totally losing it and here I am bitching at him about a game in which a bunch of losers hide in a basement and pretend to stab orcs. By the time it’s done, I’ve probably lost a friend who actually desperately my help. Worse yet, I’ve got an empty chair at my table to fill.

That’s why you go into Conflict Resolution clean. Put all your feelings and all your assumptions aside and focus only on the action and the conflict itself.

For example, Tim, you might have written something like…

My players ask for skill checks when they want their characters to take actions and I would prefer them to describe their character’s actions and let me call for checks when necessary. What can I do?

See? Clean. Totally free of assumptions about motives, value judgments, distorted thoughts, and complete and utter horseshit about full fucking agency which I am absolutely done hearing about from screaming Internet morons who know dick about agency, game design, or human psychology.

Full Frigging Agency

Look, Tim, everyone, I ain’t going into this conflict clean. Screw Challenging My Thinking. Screw the Principle of Charity. Likely, I am unfairly taking my rage out on you, here, Tim, but that’s the price of admission. It’s been in the fine print on this site since 2009 or something. Suck it up, Buttercup.

Over the past two months, I’ve had several increasingly obnoxious run-ins across the Interverse with a subculture of tabletop roleplaying gamers who wield the phrase Player Agency like a crowbar at a knee, only with less subtlety. I didn’t invite the conflict — I didn’t even know the cult existed at the start — and those involved know who they are — but once the fight started, I sure did escalate the hell out of it. Because I’m not a healthy, well-adjusted individual. I’m a spiteful, narcissistic bitch of a content creator. That’s what makes it absolutely hilarious that I’m still the best source for reasonable, rational advice about proper conflict resolution in the entire gaming space.

Seriously… I’m a horrible, angry mess. I should not be the one telling you how to fix your relationships with your players.

The phrase Full Agency triggers me. I assume anyone using it as a criticism of another’s gaming style knows absolutely fucking nothing about game design, human psychology, or, damningly, about what agency actually frigging is.

That said… today is not the day for the rant about Agency and the really fucked up expectations some Game Masters have about it. I really want to do the Conflict Resolution bit. But I have to say, Tim, that if part of the problem is that your players aren’t interested in making up their own stories and goals and motivations and would prefer to chase defined goals and face prescribed challenges, it’s not because they don’t believe in full agency but rather because they don’t agree with your definition nor do they agree that it’s the be-all and end-all of roleplaying gaming. You may need to calm down and let that shit go. I’ll leave it to you to decide whether that’s an issue or not. If I’m off base, I’m sorry. Hang out, and you’ll have your answer. But if you’re a member of that cult and you’ve survived my attempts to get you all to weed yourselves out of my garden, it’s probably for the best that you left that table behind. You’ll be happier in the end and so will the folks you left to their own game.

Though… actually… that raises a question too…

Who’s Running the Show Here?

There’s something in your question and the phrasing of your postscript, Tim, that’s making me wonder if you’re the Game Master here or if you’re just one of the players at the table and you don’t like how the table’s being run. Or if you were before you left, anyway. I have to bring up this possibility because it definitely changes the answer that I’m eventually, seriously going to give to the question you actually asked.

If you are just one of several players at the table and you’re grinding your teeth about how the game is going, then the answer to your question is, “You don’t train the players. That ain’t your job. Stay in your lane.” The problem isn’t the players playing wrong, it’s that you found a table that doesn’t match your preferred style of play and you don’t belong there. Find another one.

That said…

I wouldn’t be who I am if I didn’t believe that it’s a good thing to try out different games and different styles of play and different ways of running games. I’ve run lots of games lots of different ways with lots of different structures and approaches using lots of different editions and systems in my many years of running games. Since 2008, I’ve come to see it as my job to experiment as much as possible as I consider it my job to help as many people as possible run the least worst games they possibly can. That means always assuming there’s a better way to do things than the way I’m doing them now. When I find it, I can then tell everyone the one true, correct perspective on gaming.

That’s also why I spend so much learning everything I absolutely can about conflict resolution, human psychology, choice architecture, behavioral economics, game design theory, scenario design theory, and every other random topic I’ve ever refused to cite a source about.

It’s down to my personal philosophy about Game Mastering. If I’m going to take on the mantle — and the responsible — of the Game Master, I’m going to do everything I can to make myself the person at the table most qualified to run the best damned game ever. I approach running this site the same way. I’m going to make myself the most qualified person to tell everyone how to build and run the best games for the most people ever.

So, I’m totally not opposed to getting people to try new things. In fact, I wish more of my readers would be willing to try new things instead of dismissing shit I say out of hand as terrible, useless advice that self-evidently won’t work and so is not worth trying.

If, Tim, you are a player and the playstyle isn’t one that agrees with you, you should totally consider having a private, polite, humble discussion with whoever’s running the show. Tell your Game Master you think the play experience might be improved if they tried X, Y, and Z. Now, the Game Master might decline. They might feel they’re providing the best game for the folks at the table already. That’s the right of every Game Master and, while I think people should be open to experimentation, I also respect every Game Master’s right not to risk a game they’re responsible for and are running fully cognizant of their own strengths and weaknesses and knowing the players’ motivations by experimenting with it just because some player says, “I know how to run games better than you; let me give you some tips.”

The point is, that it might take a lot of persuasion and a lot of humility, and you might have to swallow being told no. Because, in the end, it ain’t your table and style preferences are subjective, not objective.

That raises another possibility. Instead of trying to get your Game Master to change his game, you can offer to run a short game for him and the other players on the side. Maybe the Game Master will happily take a month off so you can run a few sessions and show the players a different way of playing. Or maybe you can start up a side game of your own on a night that doesn’t compete with the existing game. Just don’t poach players. That’s being a dick.

If none of that works, then the solution in your postscript is the correct solution. If everyone else is having fun playing a game that ain’t for you and the person in charge isn’t willing to change it for you, walk away. Maybe find another game. Maybe find a group of different players — seriously, if you try to poach players, I will come after you myself — and run a game of your own. Maybe learn to live without roleplaying games.

Sometimes that’s how it goes.

You Don’t Train Players

Now that I’ve accused you, Tim, of being a neurotic, mentally ill cultist who doesn’t understand the words he uses and who’s trying to overthrow his Game Master’s authority to seize control because his fellow players are stupidly playing wrong, let me politely answer the actual question you actually asked.

If your players aren’t playing the game how you’d prefer they did — or the way that lets you run your best game — how do you — the Game Master — train your players to play differently?

You don’t!

Players aren’t pets. You don’t condition them to do tricks for Scooby snacks. They’re not part of your social experiment. They’re not the target market for your mobile Gacha game. You do not train players.

I know I seem like I’m blowing everything way out of proportion here — between the Cognitive Distortion shit above and now this crap about training — but you really do have to go into this with the right mindset or else you’re going to eff it all up. Why do you think I struggle with this crap even though I can write entire sociology theses about it? It’s because I can’t even hear the words Full Agency without writing a 2,500-word pre-rant at some probably completely innocent dude who is just trying his best to run a fun game for his friends and who’s asked me for the help I have freely offered to give.

Your job, as a Game Master, is not to train your players to play the game right. Instead, you teach the players how to play the game you’re running. Notice the difference. There are lots of ways to run and play roleplaying games and the choice of one over the other is a matter of personal preference and complex psychological gameplay motivations. Hell, roleplaying games aren’t even a genre, they’re a medium.

You need to get this because, frankly, people don’t like being corrected. Players don’t like being told they’re playing wrong. They don’t like being accused of having ingrained bad habits due to being a bunch of neophytes who don’t know how games are supposed to work. If you go in — as a Game Master — thinking any of that crap, it’s going to come out. Somehow, in some way, your adversarial feelings are going to reveal themselves. That’s going to cost you a game and a bunch of friends. I promise.

What is there, really, to even be adversarial about? This is all just about a bunch of dorks pretending to stab elves in a basement.

The thing is, though, that if you can get your head screwed on right and really believe that all you’re doing is teaching players to play the game you’re running, the actual methodology is pretty simple to understand, even if it’s hard to pull off. It’s just down to Instruction, Correction, and Patience.

Instruction

How do you teach your players to play the game you’re running? Just teach them how to play the game you’re running. It’s that simple. Seriously. Just say something like…

Let me tell you how I like to run games. It’s like this: I want you to pretend that you are your character. Now imagine you find yourself in the situation I described. Instead of picking a skill off your sheet or a combat action from your reference card, just tell me what you imagine your character would try to do. For example, instead of saying, ‘Can I roll a Search check,’ try, ‘I look around the room to see if there’s anything hidden: a secret door, a tripwire, whatever.’ Then, I’ll decide if we need to roll a check — sometimes we don’t — and tell you what to roll. That’s how I do things.

Take note that there’s nothing in that little spiel that suggests even remotely that the players are playing wrong or that they’ve got bad habits. Hell, there’s not even anything to suggest that there’s anything inherently right or good about the way I run games. All I’ve said is, “This is how I prefer to do things at my table.” Beyond that, all I’m doing is explaining a process. It’s just like I’m teaching someone how to play a new board game. Which is, after all, exactly what I’m doing.

Of course, people are more receptive to new information if you provide context. For example, I might explain some of the reasons I prefer to do things the way I do. Briefly.

The reason I do things the way I do is because it gives you all more freedom to do anything you can imagine. That’s one of my favorite things about roleplaying games: they’re open-ended. You can do — or try — anything instead of being limited by the number of buttons on the controller or the dialogue choices in a menu. Doing things this way also lets me give you bonuses or adjust the odds of success if you come up with a clever plan that’s very likely to succeed.

That said, don’t try to be a salesman. You’re just providing a little context, not trying to persuade the players that you’re right. And absolutely don’t try to sell your style by comparing it to other styles of play. Don’t say, for example, “This is better than what you were doing because you have no freedom when you do things your way,” or, “The whole point of roleplaying games is agency so if all you’re doing is just making skill checks, you’re not even roleplaying, really.”

Your players might raise concerns or ask questions at this point and you need to answer them constructively and non-adversarially. That means treating their questions and concerns as valid and providing genuine answers. For example, a player might say, “But I shouldn’t have to know what to say to Persuade a guard to let me go or else what’s even the point of Charisma and social skills. It’s not like I have to wave a sword before you let me make an attack roll.” You might want to backhand the little punk for posing a hard question, but instead, you’ve got to validate that shit by saying, “That’s a good point,…” and then providing a good answer to the question. I’ll leave it as an exercise for the readers at home to figure out the good answer. Maybe post yours in the comment section.

You also need to ignore the fact that the player’s being a bit of a confrontational dick about it. Unfortunately, part of Conflict Resolution is always being the bigger person. To a point. Sucky but true.

Correction

Unfortunately, your job only starts with Instruction. Instruction is barely a fifth of the job. You see, when people have been doing things a certain way for a while, it’s really hard for them to change. Every Game Master has got to understand that. Whenever the players forget what you taught them and slip back into their old ways, you’ve got to correct them. Fortunately, this is really simple too.

Could you tell me what you imagine your character doing rather than asking for an Athletics check? Help me understand what your character is trying to accomplish and how.

You’re going to do a lot of Correction. That’s just how it be; people are tough to teach. But it’s going to get frustrating. You’re going to get annoyed. You might even be tempted to think your players aren’t even trying, but you wouldn’t really assume that, right? Not without evidence. After all, screwing up isn’t the same as not trying and neither is failure and behavior does take a long time to change and the players do keep showing up and every time you ask them to rephrase their actions, they actually do it without complaint, so that demonstrates a pretty hefty effort on their part, right? Only an asshat would assume they just don’t care enough to get it right.

That’s why the most important part of all this shit is…

Patience

Teaching people ain’t easy. Honestly, it kinda sucks. Changing ingrained behavior is even worse than teaching. You absolutely can’t let it get to you. You need a near-infinite reserve of Patience if you’re going to pull this off. That’s another reason that the whole speech about Cognitive Distortions and Reframing Thoughts was an important preamble. Eventually, you will hit your breaking point and you’ve got to be ready to respond to thoughts like, “Why can’t these dumbasses get it?! Do they even care?!” with something like, “Well, that was a very unfair thought. Obviously, they care. They keep trying to get it right every time I ask. It’s wrong to call them dumbasses, even in my own head. Besides, this is just a game about pretending to elf and we’re all just here to have some fun.”

Meanwhile, your players are going to get frustrated too. But, unlike you, they don’t have this sexy gaming genius who’s willing to write 5000-word essays for them on how to reframe your toxic thoughts so your frustrations don’t hurt your friends’ feelings. And, unlike you, they didn’t choose to be a Game Master and then choose to spend their leisure time making themselves the best Game Master they could be and then choose to read 5000-word essays from a complete Internet asshat who sees absolutely no irony in screaming at the top of his lungs, “Stop insulting people and don’t be a dick you absolute useless assclowns,” to a community of thousands upon thousands of people who genuinely respect him and his work and really just want his help so they can entertain their friends in the best way possible…

Shit, sorry, I lose my train of thought. Let me go back.

Your players are going to get frustrated too. But they didn’t choose to run a social gaming club and they don’t spend their free time reading essays about effective communication and conflict resolution skills written by some Internet ass… guy who writes things like that. Your players are just buddies who think it’s fun to spend a few hours pretending to be elves together. When they get frustrated, it’s going to slip out, and your feelings might get hurt. But you’ve got to cut them some slack. Don’t be a doormat — of course — don’t stand for abuse, but make reasonable allowances for frustration and forgive your friends even when they’re not asking for forgiveness.

Just like all that other shit about reframing toxic thoughts and assuming the best of people and recognizing subjective preferences for what they are, taking a slap across the face with humility and grace every now and then is just part and parcel of the whole Game Mastering gig.

Given that, Tim, whether my abuse above was totally right or totally unfair, it is at least, good training for the Game Mastering job. So we’re good, right?