The comfort zone

This excerpt from the D&D Dungeon Master's Guide has been getting shared on social media recently, turning into a gaming shibboleth after Elon Musk commented on it. (I'm surprised he had the time between tweeting puerile 'jokes', supporting fascists, and spreading misinformation about UK & European politics, but a brain soaked in ketamine has unusual priorities, I guess.)

It's a matter of etiquette rather than rules, and the DM's Guide approach isn't how I'd personally handle sensitivity among players. Consider two different games that you might join. One umpire (or DM if you must) offers the comfort tools outlined above. If you object to anything in the game you can stop the action and ask for something to be changed or deleted, much like a censor watching the pre-release cut of a movie. The other umpire starts off by saying that if you have any red lines you're better off not joining the game. So that's the equivalent of going to a movie theatre and checking the age ratings so you don't take your kids into an NC-17.

Those might be examples of Isaiah Berlin's two forms of liberty, though I'll leave it to the philosophers out there to tell us which is which. As I said in an old post, there's no point in subjecting anybody to an experience they're going to disapprove of, and both approaches deal with that. I prefer the certificate method to the x-card one, given that I very often aim to include extremely disquieting horror elements in my scenarios, and once called off a campaign rather than exclude one of my players who objected to the tone I was planning for the game. And I agree with Hubert Selby Jr that self-censorship is creatively stifling, and that would include group self-censorship. But if the creative outcome, the art, is not your main reason for roleplaying then you're perfectly entitled to join the self-censoring group. It all depends on what you're after.

Here's another way (from Upon a Distant Shore, a D&D campaign book) to handle players objecting to stuff in the game. It seems fair enough to me, but social media immediately lit up with people objecting that it wasn't using comfort "tools" the way they insist on framing them:

Folks get irate because not everyone uses their preferred gaming-table etiquette. But why? As long as you're told the etiquette upfront and so can ensure you aren't going to get unexpectedly upset or offended, isn't that all that matters? You go and watch Paddington in Peru, I'll watch Titus Andronicus, and we're both happy. So I'm not quite sure why the issue divides people into warring camps, other than the fact that pretty much anything does that these days; we're right back in the era of the Blues and the Greens. And Elon Musk is using that fact to buy control of the Western world, so we'd better all smarten the fuck up before it's too late.

This again?

'You should read some history, sonny boy. Read about the Black Shirts and the Gestapo and concentration camps.'

'That's not the same thing as Lisa Treadgold. Hitler was a fiend. Lisa's just a very beautiful woman with strong opinions. Do you mind her being so beautiful?' Timothy asked innocently.

These words made Fanny so angry she stopped the car. 'Listen, dumbo,' she said, glaring. 'I realize I'm no oil painting, and I'm not rich, and I'm not famous, and no one wants my autograph--'

'And you smoke too much,' Timothy said cheekily, trying to make her smile. Really, he was quite afraid of her at that moment. She looked fierce.

'And I smoke too much,' Fanny agreed. 'But there's one thing I'll tell you, and it's this. Learn to be frightened. When you see some magic-type person, a public person, hogging the media to talk about bringing back the birch and hanging, it's time to get a little nervous. Because the person who gets beaten or hanged might turn out to be someone you know. You with me so far?'

Timothy said, 'Okay so far.'

'But when that sort of person talks about action groups and banded together brotherhoods of citizens and vigilantes, get terrified. Because the person who gets dragged away in the middle of the night for a flogging might turn out to be you. Yes, you. Simply because you're a decent, normal, pleasant, dim human being. The sort of person who just happens to get in the way of the bully boys and bully girls. Do you understand, Timothy?'

Nicholas Fisk's novel You Remember Me! was originally published in 1986 but has been forgotten where other kids/YA fantasies, less uncompromising, have endured. Too bad. In it, a TV star founds a right-wing populist political movement with promises to make the country great again. A generation raised on stories like that might not be making the mistake of putting people like this in power -- because, once they have it, they intend to hold onto it, and to do so they will uncaringly wreck the democratic institutions and regulations that have taken generations to set up.

Narcissists and plutocrats served by a coterie of sycophants and compliant dopes insincerely pandering to the electorate's sense of inadequacy with crude slogans... it's a stuck record and you'd think people would be fed up to the back teeth of it, but it seems that politics, like entertainment, just consists of the same old clichés endlessly recycled.

I'm not delusional; I realize there's no going back to 'normality' now. Western democracy is in its end-of-the-republic phase, authoritarian regimes are thriving, and the world is cooking its own goose. Still, track down a copy of Mr Fisk's book if you can find one. Or at least listen to the hosts of the Backlisted podcast discuss it with author Sam Leith. Or watch Asif Kapadia's new movie 2073. Too grim? Hey, it's less disheartening than watching the news. 

More about Elon Musk tomorrow, I'm sorry to say.