This article’s a pile of Random Bullshit. That’s what I call these bloggy, rambling stream-of-consciousness rants I sometimes publish in place of real, useful Features. It’s just me thinking — and screaming and swearing — about something — or someone. I don’t promise any point or structure or useful conclusion or actionable advice. All I promise are words; lots of words. Of course, sometimes a point, conclusion, or some advice shows up anyway. I’m just that good.

If you’re a supporter and you’d rather listen to me stammer and stutter through proofreading this article out loud, check out The Sportsmanship for Complete Asshats Proofreadaloud.

Sportsmanship for Complete Asshats

I hope you’re here for a rant because that’s what the Angry’s cooking today. This is a rant I’ve been sitting on for a long while now. I actually wasn’t going to bother with it. Partly, I was afraid it would be too damned ranty, and partly, I knew I’d be calling a certain very fragile segment of the gaming population asshats and telling them to cut it the hell out.

Then I remembered I’m in this for the rants and the asshats can’t even be assed to read a single-paragraph spell description, let alone a 4,000-word screed calling them asshats, so… here we are, I guess.

Yep, I’m ranting at — or about — players today. If my tone gets particularly pissy or condescending, that’s why. Specifically, I’m ranting about teamwork, sportsmanship, and behaving like a mature frigging adult at the game table. More specifically, I’m ranting about a very specific aspect of teamwork, sportsmanship, and general mature non-asshattery.

How many of you have seen this shit at your table…

GM: Beth, Beryllia’s up. What does she do?
Beth: Uhh… I don’t… let me…
Adam: Beth, if Beryllia moves there and casts strike of trueness on Ardrick, she’ll be out of danger and Ardrick will be set up to finish off the ogre. Then, Danae will be able to get to Cabe and heal him on her turn and he can sneak attack the hag.
Beth: Never tell me how to play the game! I’m not a soldier in your personal army! I’ll do whatever I want! I charge the ogre and cast zapp hands!

That’s it. That very specific argument — one that comes up on every forum and Reddit and in every Discord in gamingdom — is what I’m ranting about. That argument and the argument that inevitably follows over whether Adam or Beth is the asshat.

The problem is that Adam and Beth don’t read my crap. You, my reader, are probably the Game Master in that scenario. If you are Adam or Beth, buckle up, because you’re in for a hell of a ride. Hell, if you’re Chris or Danielle just sitting awkwardly there wishing the game could continue, you’re in for a ride too. If you’re a bystander who’s got an opinion on whether it’s Adam or Beth that’s the asshat, you’re going to take some flak as well. And if you are — as I suspect — the Game Master, you ain’t getting away unscathed.

Everyone at that table is the asshat.

Like I said, though, Adam and Beth ain’t reading this shit, so I can’t really yell at them. But I can yell at you — the Game Master. How’s that productive? Well, it’s productive for me because I get paid to write this shit and I’m in this for the rants. It’s productive for you because you’re probably sick of that shit if you’ve encountered it and so, you can take my rant and, in a less confrontational way, pull Adam aside and settle his hash and then pull Beth aside and settle her hash and then you won’t have to deal with it anymore.

Besides, as I said, you’re part of the problem.

What you absolutely should not do — and I can link an object lesson wherein a dumbass Game Master made this exact mistake — what you should not do is pass this rant to your players. That’ll just make everything worse. I’m not a nice guy and I don’t care if I drive your players away forever. You probably do so you may want to rephrase this shit.

Introduction done, I now present A Game Master’s Guide to Teamwork and Sportsmanship for Players. Or, more correctly, Teamwork and Sportsmanship for Complete Asshats.

It’s Not Whether You Win; It’s How You Play the Game

Have you ever heard the phrase, “It’s not whether you win, but how you play the game that matters?” I have. I’m old enough to have heard it directly from such greats as First Sergeant Conrad S. “Duke” Hauser; Duncan, man-at-arms of the Eternian royal guard; and a terrapin martial artist named Raphael. Raphael was always learning and re-learning that one. He was an asshat.

I bet you think that’s something you say to kids when they lose to take the sting out, right?

Don’t be sad you got your ass kicked so hard you coughed up your own rectum. You tried your best and that’s what matters. Your best just isn’t good enough to win. The world needs losers too.

It turns out, though, that if you say it like that, they don’t let you coach peewee football anymore and also that’s not what the phrase is actually about. There is actually an important social truth wrapped up in that phrase.

If you observe animals — like cats and dogs and wolves and rats — that have any kind of social play dynamic — and when I say, “if you,” what I mean is, “scientists have and there’s research but I ain’t writing a graduate thesis and I can’t be assed to hunt down my citations because I don’t actually care whether you believe correct things or not” — if you observe animals with social play dynamics, you’ll notice one or two animals in a social group tends to win a lot more than the others. Usually, because it’s bigger, faster, stronger, and more skilled. Think of that animal like me. Meanwhile, think of the other rats in the nest like you.

But what’s interesting is that the dominant Angry-esque specimen generally loses and submits about a third of the time when it plays with other animals. We’re not really losing, of course, but rather we’re holding back so the other animals can win once in a while. Animals that don’t learn to let the others win sometimes end up without playmates.

Non-selfish reciprocity of that sort comes up in all sorts of social interactions and for many kinds of social animals. Especially animals like you and me. There’s interesting data — that you can look up — about self-performance in conversation in real life as opposed to over the internet. In real life, if you talk about yourself in conversation more than about a third of the time, you tend not to have many interactions with social peers. Online, the average rate of self-performance in communication is about 90%.

Let that sink in.

The point is, that how you play the game is more important than whether you win. If you play like an asshat, no one will want to play with you ever. That’s worse than losing. Never gaming again sucks more than losing. Children generally work this shit out in kindergarten if they’re allowed to pick and choose their own social groups without adult interference and behave somewhat autonomously. When adults meddle in their socialization — or never give them unstructured socialization time — even if it means letting them behave like the snot-nosed little asshats they are — they grow up into asshats and then become average Dungeons & Dragons players. Apparently.

This shit’s called Sportsmanship. It ain’t complicated; it’s just a basic social code based on being someone other kids want to play with. Because it’s a social code, it’s not a firm set of rules and laws that I can write down. It’s a social dynamic that one can only describe in general terms and which every social group has to navigate on a case-by-case basis.

The Needs of the Many Outweigh the Needs of the One

Before Mr. Spock was a sexy twenty-something rage beast doinking Zoe Saldana, he was a calm, distinguished, logical stoic. He provided the intellectual foil to the passionate, intuitive Leonard “Bones” McCoy and thus, the two were basically Captain James Tiberius Kirk’s shoulder angels. Mr. Spock gave his life to save the U.S.S. Enterprise from destruction, thereby forcing Kirk to face, for the first time, the reality that victory often demanded sacrifice and one could only cheat death so many times before death caught up. That was a lesson — and a reality — Kirk refused to accept until he was forced to.

That, by the way, is why every incarnation of modern Star Trek sucks. It doesn’t get this shit.

Anyway, Spock foreshadowed his own death by reminding Kirk that, “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one.”

No human being can overcome every challenge alone. People need people. And even when a people doesn’t actually need people, sharing a burden with people still lightens the load. We call this shit cooperation. It’s basically the reason why you don’t have to spend every hour of daylight hunting mammoths at great personal risk to yourself just to have enough food to live. If you think a modern workweek sucks, try doing the survival thing completely alone.

The problem is, people suck at cooperation. There’s a phrase in psychology that goes, “Humans are 90% chimp and 10% bee.” Chimps are violently aggressive, utterly nasty animals. Sad, but true. The point is human people, on average, tend to have a strong sense of self-interest. Small social groups can cooperate by mutual agreement. Once those groups get too large — generally about three digits — the personal, social connections aren’t strong enough to overcome individual self-interest and cooperation breaks down and that’s why collectivism doesn’t frigging work.

But I digress…

Small social groups can cooperate to pursue shared goals. Each member agrees to help the group because the goal is desirable enough to overcome each member’s basic self-interest. Either that or the members have other intrinsic or extrinsic motivations inducing them to help the group. But, as Kirk learned, any goal worth achieving demands some kind of effort or sacrifice. When you join a team — a small social group pursuing a common goal — you give up some of your own self-interest for the sake of the group.

We call this shit Teamwork. Teamwork ain’t just about sharing the load, but rather, it’s about subsuming your personal interest to be part of the team that accomplished the goal. If you don’t want to be part of the team or you don’t think the goal is worth giving up some amount of your personal autonomy for, you leave the team. That is how this shit works.

Children learn this by playing team sports in gym class. More specifically, they learn it when they discover having a position on a team means you don’t get to be the one always scoring the goals and controlling the ball because the team needs defensemen and goalies too. If you play your position well — whatever it is — you’re part of the winning team and get a medal and a trophy and a letter jacket. If you play your position poorly, in the short run, your team doesn’t get anything and in the long run, the team replaces you with someone who understands Teamwork.

Tabletop Roleplaying Games are Team Sports

Unless you’re exceptionally thick, you already know why I’m explaining these very basic-ass concepts that most five-year-olds figure out. Or used to figure out. But I do have some pretty thick thickos in my audience, so I’m gonna spell it out.

Tabletop roleplaying games are voluntary, cooperative, social games. The rules of human social play apply. And that is good and right and how the world should be.

So what does that mean?

First, it means, that if you — a player — are not an asset to the team, your fellow players won’t want to play with you. They will stop inviting you to play. At least, they should stop inviting you to play. That doesn’t always happen because people are soft and compassionate and lots of Game Masters are pussies. Maybe that’s you. Maybe you don’t like to exclude people — because exclude has become a dirty word which is why people aren’t learning this basic-ass social shit anymore — and so you tolerate anti-social asshats who don’t grasp basic Sportsmanship and Teamwork principles.

As a Game Master, if there’s an asshat at your table and you let them be an asshat, you are part of the problem. You’re destroying human civilization. That’s bad and you should feel bad.

If you — and this goes for everyone; player and GM alike — if you dread game night because you have to have to deal with that one player — let’s call him Steve — if you find yourself consistently thinking, “Man, I love gaming but I just can’t deal with Steve tonight,” there’s an asshat at your table. You should never, ever dread a leisure activity you’ve chosen for fun.

Now, you may be the only one who doesn’t like Steve’s crap. That’s a different issue. It’s also possible that you’re surrounded by an entire table of Steves. That likely means you’re Steve. That’s how it be.

Putting those possibilities aside, if Steve’s behavior has several group members wishing they could game without Steve, Steve is ruining the game. He needs to stop ruining the game or stop being part of it. That’s also how it be.

Don’t Tell Me How to Play the Game!

There’s this view among gamers that if anyone suggests to you what actions you should take or how you should build your character, however politely, a grievous offense has been committed against you. If you think that’s the case… congratulations, Steve, you’re an asshat. You don’t understand Teamwork.

By joining a team — and a tabletop roleplaying gaming group is a team — you tacitly agree to set aside some of your self-interest to help the team accomplish its goals. And note that, when I say goals, I don’t mean bullshit intrinsic motivations having to do with fun or vibes. Those are consequences of cooperative gameplay, but they’re not the goal. The goals are whatever the goals are in the game you’re playing. In hockey, the goal is to score goals which is why they’re called goals. In Dungeons & Dragons, there’s an ever-shifting variety of short-term and long-term goals. Maybe you need to destroy Strahd the Impaler over a six-month campaign or maybe you just have to rescue a princess from a dragon this week. Maybe the group’s got a mix of personal and external goals. That doesn’t change the play dynamic, but that’s a more complicated discussion for another time, and if you — as a Game Master — are dealing with any kind of Steve-like asshattery, you absolutely don’t want to run a game based on individual, personal goals.

Trust me on that shit.

There is nothing offensive about a teammate suggesting a strategy, ability, or course of action that might help the team win the day. If you find that offensive, you’re too damned far up yourself to play cooperative games with other human people and the only reason they haven’t kicked your ass out is because they’re spineless and you should thank God you’ve found a bunch of simpering saps to put up with your shit. And I call upon those simpering saps to kick you to the curb. Stop inviting Steve. Seriously.

Long story slightly less long: if you ever say, “Don’t tell me how to play the game,” in response to a polite, reasonable, helpful suggestion, you’re an asshat. Stop it.

You Go Here, You Do This, You Swap Weapons, and We’ll Be Done in Two Rounds

There’s this view among gamers that any player who doesn’t optimize themselves fully and take the mathematically best action in every situation is derelict of duty and should yield to the dictates of smarter, better players. If you think that’s the case… congratulations, Steve, you’re an asshat. You don’t understand Sportsmanship.

Victory’s great. Everyone wants to win. But when you’re not fighting an actual war with your actual life on the line — when you’re just playing a frigging game — victory at the expense of a satisfying experience is hollow. If you have to make yourself miserable to win, that win’s worthless. If you win by making everyone on your team miserable, you’re going to win the game and lose the team and then, you’ll be stuck sitting at home playing with yourself.

I’m not even going to address how frigging incorrect the idea of optimization is given tabletop roleplaying games are open-ended games and there are many paths to victory and how individual choices and risk and consequence mitigation matter more than mathematical optimization — sorry Pathfinder simulationists — but rather, I’m just sticking with the social crap here. Because that’s more important.

When people choose to play a game together, they want to experience the fun of playing that game. Together and individually. Tabletop roleplaying games are about playing a role and making choices. If the game ever gets to the point where one or two players are making all the choices for everyone all the time, the other players aren’t playing a roleplaying game anymore. That party might win every fight easily, but the only one having fun is Steve the Battle Commander. Most people would rather play a game with a group they love and lose every time than play a game with Steve and win.

Sorry, Steve.

Long story slightly less long, if you’re constantly telling your teammates what they should do and what choices to make — and if you find yourself getting frustrated at their resistance or their stupid choices — you’re an asshat. If you find that offensive, you’re too damned obsessed with victory at all costs to play cooperative games with other human people and you should thank God you’ve found a bunch of spineless soldiers willing to march to your drum rather than march you off a frigging cliff you like you deserve. And I call upon your troops to mutiny. Stop inviting Steve. Seriously.

So What’s the Right Answer?

I just heard a bunch of popping noises so I assume several of you have thought through everything I’ve said and had an aneurysm over the irreconcilable paradox I’ve seemingly presented. On the one hand, everyone’s supposed to listen politely to their teammate’s suggestions and put the group’s needs over their personal choices but on the other hand, no one should ever tell anyone else what to do because everyone’s individual choices must come before the group’s victory. How the hell does that work?

It’s called balance you dumbasses! It’s the thing all you mouthbreathers on the internet always forget when you’re arguing about how Steve should never even suggest how anyone else should play ever and how Steve should always listen to the team and build and play his character right. The problem’s in the words always and never.

The problem’s also in the word offensive, but that’s another discussion for another time.

When you join a team, you’ve got to put your team’s needs ahead of your desires. That means listening politely to your teammates, giving their ideas fair consideration, and sometimes doing things you don’t want to do for the sake of the team.

When you play with other humans, you have to accept you’re not in control of the entire game anymore. That means ultimately respecting your fellow player’s right to make their own choices even if those choices are sometimes detrimental to the team or even cost you victory.

Those are both costs of playing games with other human people. If you don’t like them, play video games alone. You can’t play cooperative games with other human people if you can’t accept both of those things are true. And if other human people don’t want to play with you because you’re wrecking the fun, they’re right, you’re wrong, and excluding you is their right. Either adjust your behavior or go home.

They’re Called Social Dynamics

There is a reason why the term for all this crap isn’t Social Statics or Social Laws and why I personally don’t even use the phrase Social Contract. This shit ain’t a set of fixed, absolute laws. Instead, it’s an ever-moving, constantly shifting landscape that social groups have to navigate together. Hence the phrase Social Dynamics. Things change. People change. Situations change.

Moreover, no two groups follow the same path through the social landscape or settle in the same place. Some groups are happy to lean on cooperative teamwork and like following a leader who proves to be an effective but sociable and likable captain. Because, by the way, leadership isn’t just about knowing the right moves, it’s also about knowing how to make people want to follow you. Other groups are fine with the chaos that comes from everyone exercising a high degree of personal freedom even at the cost of the group’s goals.

Most groups of normal human people fall somewhere in the vast sea of middle ground They want to win and they’re willing to — and expect others to — give up self-interest for the sake of victory — but they also want to feel they’re playing the game they came to play. So everyone ends up compromising a little. Some have to take a little more pushing from the team than they’d like while others have to tolerate more autonomy from their teammates than they’d prefer.

In other words, building a successful social play group — and having a place in it — means moving to a comfortable middle ground that works for everyone. Everyone compromises. If the group settles in a place that demands you compromise too much, they’re not offensive or abusive or exclusive, you’re just not a good fit. Either bend more or move on. The end.

The Game Master’s Job

As I noted above, even though every player’s got to grok this shit, players aren’t reading it, you are. You — I assume — are a Game Master. Unfortunately, that means you’re responsible. Especially when your players aren’t. As a Game Master, you’re overseer, arbiter, and guardian angel of the group’s social dynamic. It sucks, but that’s the job. You’ve got to be keyed into the social undercurrent, spot problems, diagnose them, and deal with them.

If you’ve got players sniping at each other with “You’re hurting the team” and “Don’t tell me how to play” and shit like that, you’ve got at least one Steve at the table. You might have two. Heaven help you, you might have an entire table of Steves. Your job is to figure out who Steve is — who is it that’s too far off the middle ground — pull him aside, tell him what’s what, and, if he doesn’t listen, show him the door.

When you pull Steve aside, you ain’t speaking for you, you’re the voice of the collective entity that is your tabletop roleplaying gaming group. That’s why you have to stay calm and objective. It’s why you have to listen first to everyone before making any judgment at all. It’s why you have to know how to de-escalate conflict. And it’s why you have to take responsibility, accountability, and even a little abuse like an adult human person.

The whole point of this screed — apart from me just venting my spleen over the fact that dumbasses keep fighting in every corner of internet gamerdom over things I learned from fucking cartoons when I was a child — the whole point of this screed is to help you, the put-upon Game Master, to understand both sides of the social dynamic and figure out which Steves are fucking up your dynamic. Is it Commander Steve making everyone miserable by ordering them around or is it Primadonna Steve making everyone miserable by playing his character his way no matter how it hurts the group or is it both? It can be both. Moreover, once you figure out how Steve is wrecking the game, I want you to have the g’nads to tell Steve how it be. And if Steve won’t listen — if Steve puts up a fight — I want you to send Steve packing.

Bottom line…

There is literally nothing wrong with a player — or group — politely requesting or suggesting a course of action or gameplay choice that might help the team win the day.

There is literally nothing wrong with a player choosing their own path and playing the game their own way so it’s fun for them.

There’s only a problem when there’s a problem. And when there’s a problem, you need to spot the problem and crack Steve’s thick-ass skull if that’s what it takes to fix it.