Insecure Guide to BGG Ratings

 Or How An Insecure Designer Perceives BGG User Ratings.

We all have slightly different systems for how we rate games. Some people take full advantage of the ability to use hundredths in decimal points. Some people truly believe no game is a ten. This post is not about that, but about how creators perceive the ratings their games get. This is a silly post to remind designers (especially this designer) that perception is not reality. Some people actually do like games that they rate a 5. Those people probably don't understand the impact on a game's rank, but that doesn't mean they are acting out of malice. It just feels that way sometimes. Anyway, here are how the most common BGG ratings feel to insecure designers.

1: "This game is rated too high and I mean to change that."

2: "This game is rated too high, but I don't want it to be obvious that I am trying to tank the score."

3: "I want the designer to know I think they are bad for designing this game."

4: "I want the designer to know I think the game is bad."

1.5, 2.5, 3.5, 4.5: "I dislike so many games that I need sub levels to keep them straight."

5: "Someone made me play this game. It's not for me, and that's the game's fault."

5.5: "This game is the definition of 'meh'." 

6: "I used to like this game, before I discovered good games."

6.5: "I own this game because my spouse likes it."

6.75: "The first time I played this game was fun, but I haven't been able to recapture that experience."

7: "I own this game, but I have only played it once."

7.5: "Played it twice. Would probably play again."

8: "I respect this game's design."

8.5: "I think this game is actually good."

9: "I backed the deluxe edition on KS, but have only played it once."

9.5: "This is one of my favorite games, but I don't rate any game a ten."

10: "I am a big fan of some aspect of the game, and am thus blinded to the game's flaws."

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates most Mondays. 

The Transportation Paradox

Long time readers of this blog will know that the concept of immersion can be divided into absorption and transportation.  Transportation is the sensation of being transported into another world for a time. The term comes from literary criticism where it is known as narrative transportation. I refer to transportation in board games as thematic transportation so as to include games without traditional narrative structure. This post is just an observation about thematic transportation. 

Transportation, generally, is most effective on passive audiences. When we watch movies or plays or read books, the only thing we are asked to do is suspend our disbelief so that the story can affect us. For the span of a few hours, we can almost fully set aside our real world concerns. 

I contend that more active participants in an activity must juggle competing concerns of safety, rules, and transportation, thus making transportation more difficult to achieve. The next level from audience is "serious improv" where actors perform dramatic scenes without lines or instructions on how to act. This level adds safety concerns, which are significant because this kind of improv can delve into traumatizing topics. LARPs and TTRPGs can at times fall into this category, although they typically also have rules. 

The more a participant must actively think about concerns beyond experiencing the narrative, the less transporting that narrative can be. This is one reason why actors rehearse, to reduce how much they have to actively think about their blocking and lines. The more they can rely on muscle memory, the more they can immerse themselves in the scene. We see this as well in complex TTRPGs. The more rules you have memorized, the more space you have to explore the setting. Players new to D&D, for example, will have their heads down in the books trying to figure out what they can do rather than interacting with imaginary world around them. This crosses over into board games as well: the more time players spend stuck in the rulebook during play, the less time they will spend experiencing the theme. 

But board games takes this difficulty a step further. Because players cannot simply experience the theme. They have goals as players that must be achieved in order to play the game correctly. There is a game state that must be managed. When we design thematic games, we ask players to stand in two worlds at once. We want them to be transported by the theme, but we also want them to remain aware of the rules and win conditions. This hampers their ability to be fully transported. 

We can take steps to mitigate this phenomenon. We can theme the scoring and end game so that players are always acting as their characters. We can limit the amount of non-thematic elements and icons. Such measures don't always make the game easier to play, but we can also simplify the rules. Another trick is to add blocks of narrative text. Alternating passive listening with active play allows players moments when they have no competing concerns and can focus solely on being transported. I'm not a big fan of this option because it only works if the writing is good and if it makes sense to pause the gameplay. 

Thematic board games strive to achieve an experience that they aren't really equipped to do well. But if we were to change board games in order to make them better at transportation, they would cease to be board games. The things that make board games a distinctive activity are the things that impede transportation. It is a Sisyphean task. However, those moments of transportation, when players get swept away by the theme, make the imperfect conditions worth it. Perhaps more so, because the deck is stacked against us. 

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates most Mondays.

A Better Way to Speed Pitch

I am going to take a critical look at speed pitching in this post. I want to be fully understood that I have nothing against the concept of speed pitching. I am not saying we should do away with it. However, I do think that for something that comprises the majority of formal events that connect publishers with designers, it has some glaring failures. I think that's worth discussing. Also, I have a suggestion for a type of event could work alongside (or in some cases, replace) speed pitching. 

If you aren't familiar, speed pitching or publisher speed dating is an event held at cons for select designers to pitch to a number of publishers over the course of an evening. The designers set up their games and the publishers rotate from table to table. Because there is an irreducible minimum in the amount of time this takes, the events are upwards of two hours long. Even then, the number of designers and publishers that can be involved is very limited. 

In my experience with speed pitching, the designers were selected to offer a variety of games to the publishers present so that they were more likely to see a game that fit their line. But that also meant that every publisher was taking pitches for games they could never publish. The fact that the designs are adjudicated is supposed to make up for this inefficiency. On the design side, designers are supposed to benefit from pitching practice and face time with publishers. 

It is my opinion that in trying to accomplish so many things, speed pitching does none of them very well. That does not mean it is not enjoyable, or that it hasn't resulted in contracts, or that it should be stopped entirely. But it has grown to be a default event that designers vie for placement in, when other types of events might serve better. 

When it comes to pitch practice, that could easily be an event unto itself. I'm not sure I love the shark tank approach (because not every designer wants to be publicly criticized), but a pitch workshop would be easy to organize, especially among just the designers. 

When it comes to networking, I admit I would prefer a come and go mixer, and I imagine some publishers would prefer that too. Ok, I am aware that mixers exist at conventions. I'm pointing out access to networking events exists beyond speed pitching, but also that networking events for new designers could certainly stand to be expanded. 

Both of the above suggestions could cast a wider net while not asking publishers to add much to their packed schedules. But I haven't yet addressed pitching. There are a few important aspects that need to be included in any sort of mass pitching event at cons. One is that publishers need to feel that the event can be added to their schedule without any sacrifice on their part. The other is that they need to feel that the games involved will be worth their time. Succinct and high quality. 

The structure that has been bouncing around in my head for weeks now is the one I participated in when I attended a grad school fair connected to URTA, the University/Resident Theatre Association. Grad school applicants were screened/sponsored then created displays. Those displays were set up at the event, then the school representatives toured those displays while the applicants were out of the room. The representatives signed up for slots to interview the various applicants and in the afternoon the interviews occurred. 

Of course that is much too long an event, but I think a modified version could work for cons. First, designs would need to be adjudicated, much like they are with speed pitching. However, more designers could be accommodated. Then, a room could be set aside for sell sheets, rulebooks, business cards, etc to be perused by publishers. For example, designers could bring their materials the night before or morning of and set up in a playtesting space. Then publishers could wander through before the vendor hall opens, during which time designers would not be allowed in the room. They could leave their booth number indicating they would welcome a chat with a designer, or take a sell sheet, or what have you. Then, pitches could occur at or after the con at the publishers' discretion. 

Obviously, the major drawback here is that publishers would have to be willing to do this on top of scheduling pitches before the con. Adjudicated sell sheets are probably not enough to lure publishers away from their morning coffee and con prep. Which is why I think this event should be either multiple days or multiple spaces (even if it is just multiple tables) based on the type of game. That way publishers could know before entering that there are six party games, eight euros, and twelve fillers on offer. I am positive that if you tell a party game publisher you have a stack of adjudicated party game sell sheets that they will take a look. And if there was a requirement around the types of materials provided, it would have the minimum positive effect for designers of a hard deadline to complete a pitch package. The real hurdle would be adjudication, but that could be done by multiple people. 

I know that leaving out sell sheets has been tried before, but I hope I have made it clear that my proposal is more than that. Speed pitching is inefficient and feels like it exists to be fun more than professional. If the goal is connecting quality games with publishers while lowering the barrier for entry to designers, there are better ways. I'd like to see more opportunities for designers who need to make the most of one or two cons a year, but don't have many contacts in the industry. That can look like many different things. We don't need to do away with speed pitching. I could see an event like what I've outlined occurring at GAMA, which needs more designer focused events anyway. 

There is currently a gap between playtesting events and booking pitches where a lot of professional development and support for designers could be happening. It doesn't need to look like what I've described. I would be happy to help organize that support, if you are someone looking for volunteers. 

ShippBoard Games will return to a more frequent post schedule in August 2023.

Announcement and Summer Schedule

Since I already have slacked off on writing posts in May, I think I need to admit that I need a break.... to work on something else that I hope will be exciting for readers of this blog. On that note, I may post here occasionally in the next two months, but if I don't it's because I am applying the effort that normally goes here somewhere else. 

In the meantime, I have joined Ludology as a segment contributor, so you can listen to my voice instead. (I mean, I don't blame you if you don't. I don't like listening to me.) The segment is called Thinking Beyond Mechanisms, and it is similar but different to what I write about here. Generally, I will try to cover other people's theories and perspectives a bit more over there. (This blog is the incubator for my original ideas about board game theory.) Look for my first segment in two weeks. 

Once August hits, I hope to be able to resume blogging while producing the podcast segments, but I can't say for sure when the other thing will give me back enough brain space because I don't know for sure when it will be done for real. (If you're reading this and worried about some other commitments I have made to you, I'd only be worried if it's writing related. Seriously, three writing projects is a lot of words that need to sound smart and I am running out of them.) 

Anyway, I hate posts like this, but I know that all six of my regular readers will wonder where I've gone if I just go radio silent. 

ShippBoard Games will return in August 2023. 

In Defense of Inefficiency

It should be obvious that as designers, when we design efficiency games we are really designing the inefficiency that the players must grapple with. (Likewise, we don't design balance so much as imbalance.) Broadly speaking, we are always designing inefficiency into games, because games are made up of goals and obstacles, and the obstacles always introduce an element of inefficiency. That inefficiency is what makes a game interesting. However, there are more ways in which designing inefficiency can be a positive thing. 

The hobby has a large amount of "efficiency games" where the main focus of play is finding the most efficient (or really, the least inefficient) route to the endgame. But I am struck by how few truly inefficient games are in the hobby—games where the main focus is on the least efficient route. For example, if you play Telestrations as efficiently as possible, the game will fall flat. The disconnect in communication is the fun part of the game. I've not played a published version, but when I play the best players come up with concepts for a starting sentence that cannot be easily conveyed and is inherently silly. This ensures that communication will break down across the game, resulting in very funny reveals. 

Clearly, party games have an advantage when it comes to introducing inefficient play, because players take those games less seriously. However, I believe that we could develop other genres of board games to capture different aspects of inefficiency. In video games, we see lots of inefficient play: side quests, achievements, extraneous areas of the map, multiple dialogue choices. Players who "100%" a game are not playing with efficiency in mind. Another type of inefficiency in video games is walking simulators. In these games the goal is not to finish but to experience the environment. And let us not discount the sandbox titan that is Minecraft, where play can continue for years after reaching the end credits. 

I suspect that inefficient play in video games is most prevalent in and developed out of solo play. Solo play across all games tolerates more inefficiency than multiplayer. Solo RPGs have also been able to stretch the bounds of what a game can be through journaling and other media, like sewing and drawing. Sewing a map in the RPG A Mending is about as inefficient as you can get, but that is the main hook of the game. 

Where solo sensibilities in video games seems to have leaked into multiplayer games, the reverse seems to be true for board games. Solo board games seem by and large just as focused on efficiency as multiplayer games. This seems to be true because solo board games use the same central mechanics as multiplayer but modified for solo play. I don't think we can take styles of play associated with efficiency and try to encourage inefficient play. I think we need new genres of play.

Where should you start, then, in designing an inefficient game? I would start with choosing where I want the inefficiency to be. Competitive play (even in cooperation against the game AI) is inherently efficient in our current cultural context. So I would put the focus on aesthetic play, social play, or creative play. While I think narrative can be a tool for inefficiency, narrative play by itself in the context of board games won't move players far enough away from an efficiency mindset. The goal of play will need to be very clearly something other than winning, such as in Telestrations, where the goal is the funny reveal. 

I don't have more advice about how to design an inefficient game that isn't a party game, because if I knew how to create a new genre of play whole cloth, I would be pitching that to publishers. I would like to see board games break into unexpected territory. Inefficiency seems like one place to start.

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates most Mondays.

Dramatic Questions

I have mentioned before that your theme should be able to be stated as a question, but I have never linked that question to the literary concept of a dramatic question. This post fixes that.

A dramatic question, also called a major dramatic question, is the source of conflict in a narrative. Dramatic questions are used by authors to guide their work and make sure that their story feels as though it has a point. Actors and directors must consider the major dramatic question of a play in order for the spoken text and the action to feel cohesive. 

Determining the major dramatic question is central to thematic integration in board game design. If you don't know what is driving the events of the theme, they will feel unfocused and random. To determine the major dramatic question, locate the central conflict in your theme. Why do the characters take actions to overcome obstacles? Is it survival? Prestige? Vengeance? What are the stakes of their success or failure? For instance, it is clear in Everdell why you are building a town ahead of winter; what is not clear is why your town needs to be better than the other towns (or districts?). If players didn't interact at all you could say it was because they exist in different places. But players not only compete for resources, they can visit each other's towns. 

When you have determined what the central conflict and stakes of the theme are, double check that they are aligned with the mechanical objectives of the game. If the central conflict of the stated theme is to become the most powerful warlord, but the main action of the game is farming, then the dramatic question is probably the wrong question. If you aren't sure if you have the right question, ask your playtesters "What was this game about?" after they play it. If you really want to keep your original dramatic question, you may have to refocus your mechanics to more closely align with it. 

When the game objectives are aligned with the dramatic question, ask yourself at what point is the question answered. Most of the time, the question should be answered at the very end of the game. If the question of "Who is the strongest?" is answered halfway through the game, your game may be too long, or need catch-up mechanics, or you may need a second dramatic question to carry through to the end game. Ankh is a game that switches the dramatic question from "Which god will prevail?" to "Can the remaining gods together defeat the more powerful god?" We don't see a lot of games that switch dramatic questions partway through, and I think it would be interesting to see that more often. Even games with strong pivots usually have a single dramatic question, such as Clank!'s "Who can get the most treasure AND get out alive?" Here the question has two parts but it is a single driving question. (In my opinion; you might consider this two questions.) Whereas in Ankh you won't know what the second question looks like until you arrive at "the merge." 

If you have a dramatic question with clear stakes that is aligned with the player objectives, consider adding an inciting incident to your game! Read more about that here. This will take your dramatic question and establish it narratively for your players and can make the whole game feel more thematic as a result. Honestly, this is what elevates So, You've Been Eaten from other games of a similar weight and style. 

Dramatic questions don't have to be life or death. They are a guide post to game development by stating why the characters are engaged in the action of the game. They help focus the narrative of the theme. They help ground the game logic. They help craft the thematic hook. If you are interested in thematic integration, start by figuring out the major dramatic question. 

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates most Mondays.

Goal Categories

In the last post, I mentioned the project management triangle, i.e. good, fast, cheap; pick two. This post continues that musing. 

If we pair off the three sides of the triangle, we get good/fast, good/cheap, and fast/cheap. This is one way to look at possible goals in games. However, if we massage these categories and squint a little we can perhaps extend our understanding of goals in board games. 

If I were to assign the title 'efficiency' to one category, it would be fast/cheap. To me, that speaks to real world efficiency systems, even though good/fast could also be viewed as a type of efficiency. We are familiar with efficiency goals in board games. Some concepts within efficiency-goals are speed, least cost, puzzle solutions, putting items in order, performing actions in order, and developing heuristics. We certainly see the concepts of cheap and fast within efficiency, but also other more emergent concepts. 

Efficiency is so baked into our concept of board games that it is hard to get away from. The timing element becomes necessary because games must have an end and a winner declared at the end. Winners that are determined either by scoring or by first to complete an objective encourage efficient play. There is something delicious about inefficiency but it is difficult to capture in board games as we currently understand them. 

I am giving good/fast the label of achievement. Achievement is often about being the first and/or the best. This echoes C. Thi Nguyen's concept of achievement play which places the focus on winning over enjoyment of the process of play. Concepts found within achievement-goals are recording high scores, domination of other players, themes of status and power, but also voting and negotiation as a form of social leveraging. Combat games often blend efficiency puzzles with domination goals. 

Like efficiency, achievement is deeply ingrained in board game design. We declare winners; we keep score. In the contemporary hobby, we log plays and attend tournaments. Steam achievements keep players returning to video games that they have already 'completed' in order to be able to display their mastery by completing objectives that few other players have completed. 

There isn't anything wrong with efficiency play or achievement play. However, by focusing too closely on these driving goals, we fail to develop other enriching kinds of play. 

I approach good/cheap a little differently than the other traits. Firstly, my understanding of cheap in the triangle is not 'poor quality' but rather solutions that didn't require tons of money. What really makes good/cheap stand out is the absence of 'fast.' This goal category is about slowly developing quality solutions. Therefore, I label this concept growth. An acorn growing into a tree is a good metaphor for this category. I also view this category as the least economically motivated, because efficiency is not present in any form. Concepts found in growth-goals include personal development, discovery, cooperation, and creativity. 

Two subsets of board games leap out as having growth-goals, and they couldn't be more different. Party games are often played for the joy of creative discovery and any scoring mechanisms are ignored. Achievement-goals are not fully left behind, because correct guesses can allow players to 'win' a round. Likewise, efficiency may still be present in party games with timed elements. However, party games are unique in the hobby in that playing for a set time and declaring a winner are routinely ignored. 

The other type of game that focuses on growth-goals is the narrative-driven sandbox game (and other narrative-driven adventure/campaign games). These games are long and full of discovery. Players play a sandbox board game primarily to experience it. The focus on winning has more to do with avoiding loss of progress. Because if you lose, you won't be able to experience the next bit of the game, at least not without some tedious administrative actions. I'm not sure this is the best model for growth-goals because the amount of content required to create this kind of experience doesn't lend itself to shorter, smaller games.

I don't propose that efficiency, achievement, and growth are the only types of goals that can or do exist in board games. I'm merely using the project management triangle to point out the area that I feel is most ripe for experiment, which I have labeled growth. I think the easiest way to implement growth-goals in board game design will be to continue to blur the lines between TTRPGs and board games. RPGs have been exploring this space since their inception. Video games also have some lessons to teach but they may be less directly portable into board games. 

Periodically, people will say that we have exited the innovation phase of board game design and have entered a refinement only phase. This is pure silliness. Board games look nothing like what they did a century ago. In another century, they will look nothing like they do today. And we get to participate in that evolution, by finding underdeveloped areas to explore in our designs. 

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates most Mondays.