Art, Pandering, & Propaganda

I was considering delaying this post, but upon reflection this post belongs before the next board game experience category- empathy. The reason is that much of the debate online about inclusion is actually two debates occurring concurrently: "Should design be more empathetic?" and "Can the agenda of a design ever detract from the artfulness or quality of the design?" I would say that the answers to both questions are yes. 

I will cover empathy in the next post, so for now let's focus on the second question. When looking at agenda-driven art, I make a few assumptions. 1.Consumers tend to view art with heavy messaging as trying to sell them something rather than a work to engage thoughtfully with. 2.The idea of pandering to increase sales is so pervasive that many people assume inclusion of diversity comes from a desire for sales rather than a place of empathy. 

To the first point, I agree under certain conditions. For me, art becomes pandering or propaganda when difficult truths are ignored or avoided so that the "message" isn't challenged within the piece of art itself. Agenda-driven art strips complexity from issues and reduces arguments to either "for" or "against". Stripping complexity of meaning from art does in fact make that work feel lower quality. Really great art is usually about wrestling with complex truths. Agenda-driven art is often confrontational, but does not handle confrontation well. Western Christian art has often struggled with being agenda-driven because of the fear of contradicting doctrine by discussing difficult topics. Art should be a conversation where the meanings and responses change over time in order for the work to endure.  Agenda-driven art is generally made for people already on board with the agenda. Obviously, agenda-driven art can turn into propaganda, however, propaganda is a much more specific term that doesn't cover all cases of agenda-driven art. In regards to board games, the obvious forms of agenda-driven design are usually made by people who have not researched the industry and unfailingly produce terrible games. More subtle cases require careful examination, but there comes a point when the amount of examination required means that while the game may have problematic themes, it probably isn't wholly agenda-driven. 

The second point is where these debates often fracture. On the one side, people are complaining about pandering to (usually new) audiences while the other side is attempting to discuss empathy. I am sure many people think about large corporations first when we think about pandering. Speaking as a woman, pandering for me is offering pink or flowery versions of products but doing nothing to address harassment in the workplace. So, let's define pandering as catering to others' perceived desires while not addressing their needs. The argument in board games is that a game needs to be good and therefore people's desires for representation are a distraction from the game's needs. This is faulty logic on a number of levels. The first faulty assumption is that the primary purpose of a game is to be a collection of solid mechanics. I would argue that, in fact, the primary purpose of a game is to be played and enjoyed by people (even if that game is Monopoly). Another problem with this logic is framing the situation as either/or (which is also something agenda-driven art does). Most game designers take it as a given that everyone is trying to design the best game they can. Assuming otherwise is both harmful and ignorant. Harmful, because it imputes the professionalism and integrity of a small community of small business owners and creators. Ignorant, because it assumes that it is possible to get rich in board games by pandering to certain audiences. It doesn't take much googling to come to the conclusion that most publishers lose money on a first printing. Designers and publishers are trying to grow the hobby by bringing in new audiences. That is in part an economic push because a new gamer has more room in their closet for game boxes than someone who has been in the hobby awhile. But the reason publishers and designers are in this field to begin with is a love of games. A love they want to share with people. If they didn't love it, they'd find/return to a field with less razor-thin profit margins. Most of them are good actors who are incredibly generous with advice for newcomers. 

But what about inclusion and representation in games? When is it authentic and when is it not? Here's some test questions: Is it accurate to the community that is represented? Does it rely on stereotypes? Does it attempt to convey complex truths? Are people trying to get rich off of someone else's heritage? Does it reflect reality? If not, is it a hopeful look to a better future? Does it "punch down"? Does the character's identity impact the story-telling? Should it? Does the creator have a reputation for thoughtful contemplation of criticism from marginalized communities? 

Bottom line, I can't tell you if any given work of art is "authentic" or "pandering" but by examining it yourself you can at least see which direction it points toward.