I have mentioned more than
once my hobby of tabletop
roleplaying games, and have already used player actions within
games to draw comparisons with the differing emphasis on free will in different
schools of theology. I like these posts,
because they allow me to combine two things that I end up thinking about a lot;
roleplaying and theology. Yeah, I
know. I’ve never claimed to be one of
the Cool Kids...
I’ve run a great many games
over the years, and if it isn’t blasphemous to say so, I’ve made very much the
same mistakes (or, rather perhaps, choices) as God, with similar results. Again, it is a question of permitting choice
and then living with the results, although this time it is not a question of
the player characters within the game world, but of the players. (Any of my regular roleplay group who read
this, this isn’t a criticism of you at all, it’s just my reflections on
perceived mistakes I’ve made with regards to the smooth running of games.)
Now, I like to try and give my
players as much choice as possible, and I am talking about the players, not
their characters. The problem is that
they very often don’t choose what I would consider my preferred, or even the
optimal choice.
A prime example of this is a
steampunk game that I ran a few years ago.
The player characters were to be the crew of an airship in an
alternative version of the late 19th century. My intention was that they would be the crew
of a tramp trader of medium speed, and with light weaponry; an all-rounder
capable of fighting if need be, but also of acting as a merchant ship,
transport or what have you.
Unfortunately, I’d come up with deck plans for several variants of a
smallish airship, and decided to let my players choose what type of ship they
wanted, from a list of all-rounder, smuggler, merchantman or mercenary warship. As far as I was concerned, with my mighty
omnipotence, the all-rounder was by far the best and most versatile choice.
They chose the warship, with
rather more than four times the firepower of the tramp trader, but a very small
hold. As a result, aspects of the plot
played out rather differently and in hindsight, not quite how I would have
wanted it to go.
More recently, it came round
to my turn to run a game again, and again decided to allow my players to make a
choice. This time it was between playing
a fantasy game, or completing the historical swashbuckling campaign that we
started last year. At the time I was
more or less ambivalent as to which they went with, and they chose the fantasy
campaign. Since then I’ve found myself
far more in the mood for swashbuckling than fantasy. This isn’t really my players’ fault; my moods
are notoriously mercurial when it comes to these sorts of things. However, if left entirely up to me, I may
well have gone for swashbuckling.
So a fantasy game then. Again I gave them a choice (why don’t I
learn?) between a complex but detailed set of rules, including a complicated
but realistic combat system, and my own
home-made system, which is simpler, and which we’d used for the
swashbuckling game, and which I have used for multiple different genres of
games over several years, with continuous tweaks and adjustments. Obviously it is perfectly in line with what I
want out of a set of RPG rules, but that is purely based on my preferences. However, I’m wary about forcing it onto other
people, and using it for every single game I run.
They chose
complex-but-detailed. Since buying these
rules, I’d not had a chance to try them properly, so I was perfectly willing to
do so. However, after two sessions, it’s
clear that the combat rules especially, given the large size of our group, are
a little bit too much, and I now wish that I hadn’t given them the option.
I’m reasonably sure that my players don’t deliberately choose the
option that I don’t favour, since I try not to make my preferences known ahead
of time. The obvious response is not to
give them a choice at all, and just enforce my sovereign will, but I don’t wish
to do so. After all, I am running the
game as much for their enjoyment than mine, if not more so. It is true that since I already know all the
rules, and already know what the plot is going to be, and how things are likely
to unfold, I am in the best position to make these decisions, and not bother
consulting my players at all.
It might well be that they
would in fact enjoy the game more if I did just autocratically impose my will,
certainly I believe that the games would have gone more smoothly, but I want to
offer my players choices. I want to give
them choices. However, because they lack
my insider knowledge, they often don’t choose what I would consider to be the
best option.
And
now: the theological analogy!
On the face of it, the whole
free will thing seems like a bit of a mistake.
After all, we lack the knowledge to make the best decisions, at least in
the long term. Unlike me, God does make
his preferences known, but then follows it up by saying, “But, y’know, it’s up
to you. Your choice.”
And then we choose the wrong
thing. But at least we did choose. We are not puppets or automatons, we are
responsible for our own actions. I’ve
seen atheists say that religion is an abdication of responsibility onto God
and/or the devil. I consider the
opposite to be true. We believe that not
only do we have a genuine choice, outside the constraints of the hormones and
electric impulses that modern neurology tells us are all that make up our minds
and wills. Not only that, but we believe
that those choices have consequences that are not only real but eternal.
We have been given the choice,
and we have been given the rule book. We
don’t know the plot yet, but I believe God to be the kind of GM who would
rather let his players make choices than have the smoothest possible game.
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