Today, I am not burying the lede: Do not expect your audience to do the work you are unwilling to do.
I hope a major take away from this blog in general is to pay attention to the details, because a design lives and dies by whether all the details serve the whole experience. This post is a specific admonition regarding the thematic content of a game design.
Let's define some terms. In this post (but not everywhere in the board game world), abstract will be used to mean themeless. Representational refers to images/ideas that are not abstract. Representation refers to who is depicted by themes and how they are depicted.
There are two modes of lazy thought in theme/narrative crafting. One is that everyone can imagine themselves as the main character, regardless of what that character looks like. (I won't be delving into this, but there is a lot of interesting literature on diversity in children's toys and childhood development if you've never explored the idea.) The other is that in order for everyone to be represented, no one should be represented. This is the idea I want to explore in this post.
First off, this argument only comes up in discussions of the representation of marginalized people in board games, never with white male characters. The inconsistency automatically makes this argument suspect. However, there are few lessons we can mine by taking this argument in good faith and seeing if it has anything to offer.
Let us assume that those arguing for greater abstraction are not actually arguing for fully abstract games. It seems unlikely that the argument is meant to extend to Agricola, Scythe, or Pandemic, stripping them of any and all theme. Rather this argument is presented as way to avoid specific character details in board game design. If you never see what the main character looks like, you can imagine yourself in the lead role. (Reminder, do not expect your audience to do the work you are unwilling to do.)
The first problem we are presented with in this scenario is boring art. You can't have character art if you are avoiding depicting characters. And not every game calls for aliens or anthropomorphic animals. Imagine Agricola with sheep wearing clothes tending smaller sheep in pens- all right for a kid's game, but absurd in a game for adults. (Again, designs with European-looking characters rarely receive this call for abstraction.) A lack of character art that represents what the characters are doing in the game can do a game real disservice. Some games require representational imagery. Art helps explain and contextualize the rules. Not every game can be abstract, especially when theme/art helps reduce the time it takes to learn the game, in addition to adding a layer of fun on its own. So clearly, we cannot simply do away with character art altogether OR make every character a rubbery alien. What then? (Do not expect your audience to do the work you are unwilling to do.)
Some people will insist that diversity should make sense based on the world-building of the game. To these people, I invite them to research the difference between soft world-building and hard world-building. There is no rule that says that every detail of your world has to make perfect sense to the viewer. In fact, a certain amount of fun can be lost if you insist on purity of lore over making choices that make the game better.
The flip side is simply adding in representation in the art alone. Many publishers are doing this and I don't believe there is anything wrong with having more visibly diverse characters. Mostly harmless; somewhat helpful; doesn't go far enough.
Now we are getting to what I really want to address. The benefit of having representation in games is not merely so players feel seen. We can adjust the character art of the same zombie/pirate/space games all day long and never really see something new in the hobby. The real benefit of diverse characters is the opportunity for diverse stories. Yes, there are huge pitfalls if you try to tell a story using someone else's culture—(I have seen people using the 'abstraction' argument to people trying to design games that represent their own culture; not to mention, people praised for cultural appropriation.)—but that doesn't mean the only other option is abstraction. In addition to cultural consultants, co-designers, and research, there is also going out and talking to people. Especially if you are reading this, you have access to a huge diversity of thought and experience via the internet. Do the work to tell better stories.
If you choose to stick closely to your lived experience, you still have stories to tell that no one else can. Designing games—telling stories—where you have something to say that hasn't been said before is ART. Make art. Make art only you can make. Engage your themes. There is a reason certain themes are so popular. (Zombies address our fears of overpopulation, for instance.) Understand the emotional connection of theme to audience/player. Board games are about relationships: player to player, score to score, area to area, piece to piece. There is design room within the constraints of a board game for more emotion, more theme, more stories, more relationships than what we have seen thus far. (See also: any other post on this blog.)
However, do not expect your audience to do the work you are unwilling to do. You cannot have a deep, resonant theme or a good story or an exciting game if you do not put in the work. Do not hope your audience will fill in the gaps for you. Here's the thing about audiences—they have a choice in how to engage. Some will only engage with your design as if it is abstract. Some will read every word of the lore. Some will engage critically, like a reviewer. Some will compare your game to your body of work. Some will compare it to other offerings in the genre. Some will only engage in the binary of fun/not fun. You cannot control how every player engages with your game, but by choosing to abstract you remove options of engagement (and potential fun) from your players.
I believe that in order for board games to continue to grow and evolve that games need art, need stories, need emotion and meaning. My advice: do the work.
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