Recently, one of my players and I got into a fight. This fight was not particularly loud, nor were we throwing things. Still, the tension was dense enough to stop a die from rolling. I was raised on how to argue from my father and the key rule to any argument is to remember that the first one to lose their cool, loses the argument. Not only was this my fathers way of keeping the sound of screaming children from the house, but it is also a wisdom that keeps most arguments within some semblance of a debate, in which actual solutions are found. The internet does not understand this rule, but that is a discussion for another time. The point is, this fight was unusually heated for two individuals who pride themselves on their ability to remain calm during intense disagreement. After the dust settled and I sat alone in my game room (where I often do most of my seething so the players can feel that intensity in game) I had to ask myself: Why? How did the subject become so personal for both of us that something ingrained into our character became nearly over written? To answer your inevitable question, the fight was about how I was running my game. He had started his own game some time ago, which may have led to the insight he held. Regardless, he felt that my game had grown to serious and he did not appreciate where it was going. Before talking to me though, he brought this problem to the group, albeit in a rather aggressive manner. In response many in the group, who I play with because they are calm and rarely rage at each other, suddenly turned on him. I’ll admit I was offended at his brunt disagreement. Everyone else in the group became so slighted, that I had to personally message several in private to get them to stop. Then, of course, my… discussion with him, which I did in person. For the sake of this article I will refer to this reaction as… Derek. For me, Derek is that one name where, whenever I hear it, my eyes narrow and my voice grinds out the name like a mad villain whose plot has been foiled. Derek.

I hate Derek.

The problem is that we all have a Derek inside of us. It’s that part that lashes out like a fierce animal protecting her cubs, except with fickle, unruly emotion and harsh words. A strange metaphor for all the trolls and haters of social media isn’t it? I’ll explain why I chose that one in a minute.

Just as recently, the Angry GM has posted a couple of articles on a puzzle that he posed, as well as the solution. The puzzle was exceedingly difficult and specifically designed as a trap to people who approach puzzles in D&D with a sense of superiority and demand to solve the puzzle. I have linked the articles he posted to the magical words of blue color. It’s worth a glance. Anyway, my first response in reading the puzzle was to get around the rather limited defense system. This is likely because, in my games, I encourage my players to find creative solutions. I constantly try and have my villains trap them by their own perceptions and mental rules. I won’t spoil it, but I believe that my character would have begun testing if the trap responded only to organic material. The most vocal of Angry’s Derek’s did not do this though. Most of them, after reading the solution, reacted vehemently. Was that the right way to react? No, of course not. Was it even the right way to approach a puzzle designed by a man to has a reputation of specifically messing with Derek’s? Obviously not. So why did they react in such a manner? Aside from Angry, I fully expect 99% of the people who spewed such reasonless hate to be normal, easy to talk to people if met away from the computer screen. So, what turned them into Derek? Who I hate. Derrrrek. This isn’t even the tip of the ice burg.

If you, like me, occasionally enjoy some good D&D done well, but without any of the stressful interaction, then you probably watch Critical Role. Now, I have been watching for over a year, and in that time one thing has been made very clear. Matthew Mercer, the GM for Critical Role will always have to repeat how the games focus is to have fun, and the internet will always lash violently whenever something goes terribly wrong. This applies to both in the game when the characters decide to do something crazy and Mercer is a little lenient to reward their creativity, and out of game when a character forgets how to use a spell correctly and the consequences are unexpected. Critical Role has one of the most inclusive and kind communities surrounding it, yet it still suffers from the grating, outrageous reactions from Derek.

Derek doesn’t just enjoy ruining role playing games either. Oh no. Derek is everywhere. Book and movie lovers must suffer Derek. Don’t even get me started on Derek’s obsession with video games. Given my subject focus, however, we will discuss Derek’s interactions with tabletop and role playing games. Point is, Derek is EVERYWHERE. Why? Because of who he is.

Who is Derek?

Simply put, Derek is the instinctive need to protect something deeply personal. Have you ever had an experience where someone commented a criticism on a sibling or parent (or favorite food), and you feel a sudden swell of emotion that causes you to lash out? If not, then I probably didn’t list something you hold personally valuable, but you get where I am going. The sudden swell that pushes you to react, that is Derek. We all have something that hits the emotional nerve in just the right way to cause an unreasonable rise of nearly desperate anger. Just like all emotions, that isn’t initially a bad thing. See, emotions make excellent guides, but terrible leaders. That was another lesson I learned from my father. Emotions are a sort of conceptual nervous system. Similarly to when your real nervous system detects pain, like your pants being on fire, it reacts, sending signals to your brain to inform you something is wrong, your emotions react to let you know when your metaphorical pants are burning. In the moment a well-known, but vastly important, system kicks in: Fight or Flight. These are emotions though, not actual physical pain. Rather than either slapping your legs or jumping back in an awkward attempt to kick off your newly styled leggings, you either shut down into a sudden silence, or lash out vocally (At least when limited to general internet responses. Emotions are a strange thing, and can cause more strange things.). Still, this is understandable. If someone walked up to you and listed a flaw that you are self-conscious with, of course you react. Especially if it is deliberate. Games are more tricky than that though. Specifically role playing games.

Since the dawn of time, humanity has connected to each other in order to communicate messages through a unique and fascinating form of mass hallucination. We call these forms of communication stories. One of the most intriguing things about stories is how they often strike us as deeply personal. Occasionally, we find a well woven tale that we identify with so closely, it feels almost like an actual experience. It’s as if we suddenly get the chance to live another life with an entire array of options unavailable to us. If you are reading this, I can make a pretty strong guess you already understand that though. It’s probably one of the key reasons why you play Dungeon and Dragons or similar role playing games. Due to the evolution of D&D as a whole, the story has become far more prevalent. Even before more story driven narrative was really shot into the system of D&D, most players were keenly attached to their characters and the game. Why?

Immersion and Experience

Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, a Hungarian psychologist, recognized a rather relevant mental state he coined flow. Now, flow occurs when someone is completely immersed and fully involved in an activity, energetically and positively engaged with it. That last bit is important. It is why I put it at the end rather than just quoting Wikipedia. (Yes, I use Wikipedia. Everyone does.) In order for a person to reach a state of flow, a positive feeling and association must be met. If there is no positive connotation to the activity, then it is just hyper-focusing. Flow is important because it is one of the foundational reasons why we enjoy stories, games, and basically anything we love doing for fun. We all have had flow at one point. To help prove that, lets identify the six symptoms of flow.

The first is the immersed, engaged, and deeply focused concentration on what you are doing. Ever been sitting after a good session and suddenly realizing just how intent you were on it? That is that point when you become so mentally driven in your activity, like killing that beholder who happened to show up after the killer trap just compromised the entire party, that you forget you left the groups’ pizza in the oven. Don’t worry, you’ll probably remember it by round six or seven in the turn order when the rather un-immersive smell of burning pizza serves as a reminder of your failure as a human being. (Seriously, set a timer guys. Player groups get REALLY offended when pizza burns.)

The second is when your actions and awareness merge. This really pertains to more physical activities, but I have seen it apply to role playing. Oddly enough, I would even apply it to dice. There was one point in a particularly intense session that revolved around one of those pesky diplomacy events that our BARBARIAN hit her merging point hard. Just as we were about to give up on receiving help from the neighboring country in an attack from the northern armies, she spoke up. Now, the barbarian forever known as Karen was not dumb, but not smart either. As part of her character building process though, she steadily became wise. Not the ability score mind you, but rather she fit into that character that just seemed to always give good advice, even though it made no sense to come from her. Anyway, after a lengthy speech, a brief and impressive debate where the DM and the player stood up to utilize body language better, and some REALLY lucky dice rolls, we had our back up.

The third is a loss of self- conscious thought. Now, this is an important detail as it also implies that we have to really TRUST our group. Once we are comfortable with them, and become lost in the immersion, some crazy things happen. You lose a sense of concern for yourself, the player. This is when we forget about the impending homework deadline, the recent job loss, or the mess in the kitchen. It is probably the most dangerous part of the whole endeavor. It becomes addictive, an escapism that turns into a crutch if not handled with care. It is also one of the largest reasons we play the game in the first place; to forget real problems for a few hours.

The fourth is a distinct sense of control and exerting power in a proactive manner. This should be relatable to anyone playing any kind of game. After all, without this part D&D would be the same thing as sitting together while the DM just reads a story they wrote up with desperate fervor half an hour before the game. Perhaps you have practically had this happen before. Some GM’s are so focused on their story that they railroad players into the plot regardless of what their choices are. For almost all players, those games are not fun. This is not only a part of flow, but an instrumental part to the game.

The fifth factor is a distortion of ones experience of time. Anyone who has had a great session, even a good session, know what this feels like. Start playing at seven in the evening and from the beginning things become intense and fast paced. Suddenly, your wife kicks the door in, shattering that glorious immersion just as the fighter thrusts his sword in the beast’s throat for the final blow. Long story short, now we have a couch nearby for her to sit on while we play to remind us not to go until three in the morning. I swear it was only an hour though.

The sixth and final symptom is for the experience to feel deeply and intrinsically rewarding. This is also called the autotelic experience, which basically means that one finds and brings forth a sense of purpose and meaning from the activity. This is important. Well, all of it is important, but this part is what connects to the deepest emotional parts of ourselves. See, people require a sense of purpose. Without it, we fall into deep states of depression and self-loathing. It is so important that the question of purpose is one of the greatest ever asked. By deriving purpose and reward we feel successful. What makes it strange is that in the case of our weekly sessions, the purpose and reward for our characters and our players are two different things. The characters get to save the village from that infestation of zombie ogres and receive some money for their chivalrous trouble. They are heroes, their purpose being to adventure and help others (In certain games, but I’ll get there) and their reward being LOOOOT. The players, however, gain their purpose from each other. Their reward from each other. Sure, you can gain some reward by taking pride in beating a difficult encounter, but we all know deep inside that the really rewarding experience was not only that you landed the final blow, but that you did it because the bard distracted the giant with a hilarious seduction attempt. Keep that in mind.

Now, it is important to note that all six of those factors can occur individually, or even sporadically with a couple others. Flow is only achieved when they all happen together. I don’t know about you, but that is rather common in my games. Not that I’m the best DM. I have my moments. Like that pizza. was

The human brain is a strange thing, in that in order to relieve itself from stress it can pretend it is in a completely different situation, even one that is MORE stressful, and then feel better. I’ll save that insight for another article. Point is, when we no longer achieve flow, there are two options. Either we get bored and move on to the next thing that gives us the high of energized, positive activity, or it breaks down into an unhealthy leach, draining away our time and mental focus. The good thing is that flow comes and goes. You may no longer have that feeling while playing D&D because you changed so you leave, then come back a few years later to find it again either because you changed again, or the game you are playing matches your style better. Perhaps the game changed and became more serious than you prefer. The flow becomes disrupted, you no longer enjoy the game, but you enjoyed it not too long ago. Suddenly, you lost something you once deeply enjoyed. It was a game you could immerse yourself in and find new experiences. What happened to it? Something is missing. Now this thing that you held a deep emotional connection to is abruptly lost, even twisted. That thing you cared about, which all your friends still enjoy, is now threatened. What do you do? You message the entire group in a text based chat that you believe they are all wrong in what they are doing and where they are going with this. See how this is relevant? I know it seemed like I was side tracking there for a moment.

How does it all fit together with Derek?

Derrrek. Man, I hate Derek.

Where was I? Oh right, putting the pieces together. So how does flow relate to Derek? Well, as I have already stated, flow appeals to our whole mind. It gives us a sense of purpose, social reward, positive association, and escapism. It is the whole package. When we play D&D, flow is not uncommon, especially for invested players. That makes the game a deeply personal and valuable event. It’s like Christmas when you were a kid and magic was still real. Many players find themselves excited with the game, elated just before and just after, and thinking about it all week. So when something threatens that, it transforms all of us into Derek, the unthinking and reactionary jerk. Here is how it goes: We become involved in a new game, or even the game in general, and develop investment. Invested with the campaign, and the D&D as a whole. Something changes, either us, the game, or the realization of another’s perception of it that contrasts our own. We feel that the campaign/game is becoming lost, our sense of value and emotional investment is threatened. That is when Derek comes out and we lash with violent reaction. Or walk away altogether.

SO, now that we have established how all that works, on to my actual point.

Wait, what?

People have always formed little circles and clubs in which they gather with others of common beliefs and interests. These circles have always attacked one another. It is repeated all through history, so if you want to argue that point, pick up a book. In relevance to D&D, we all have our own idea of ‘fun’. Some people play just to kill monsters and get gold. Some people play to roleplay and act out different characters. Some circles like more story, some like strict dungeon delving.

Some groups like the challenge of a nearly impossible puzzle that requires a death just to achieve the goal. Others find the very notion of such a trap so offending to their view of D&D that Derek takes the keys for them and they write some appalling, albeit hilarious, reactions. There will always be different circles of people, even in the large sect of D&D, or the greater one of roleplaying games. People will always react unduly to views that disagree with their own. YOU don’t have to though. You have been informed.

D&D is a complex game, with many factors integrating its parts to make it work. All role playing games are complicated, because they work foundationally on people, who are complex enough when they are normal, much less participating in a mass hallucination where they are OTHER people. I personally love to run my games heavily on story and hard core mechanics to make death easy. I have to train players before they can hit the real campaign. My players like that. They love the challenge, the depth of interaction, and the detail in the lore. Not all of them did though. I had a player leave because his idea of the game, of fun, was not that of the group’s. That was ok. There is nothing wrong with that. The entire point of having so many different roleplaying games and groups to play them in is so that people can find what they are looking for. Now that player is enjoying his own game the way he likes it. That’s wonderful, and I am happy for him. The problem is Derek. Derek still whispers in his ear every so often, and when I meet up with him to catch up and visit (As we ARE still friends) it is clear he is still tense. I’ll admit, that hurts a little. I don’t run a distinctly offensive campaign where murder hobos and rape offenders run ramped. The game does, however, address difficult moral and philosophical questions; is it worth sacrificing the one to save the many? I’m not seeking sympathy, but it’s worth noting that despite the fact I have known this player for YEARS, decades even, he is so offended that our ideas of how the game should be played are different that it causes contention between us.

THAT breaks groups. If Derek is not addressed and handled carefully he WILL destroy friendships, because Derek is a real problem. Don’t be Derek. For something as deeply personal and valuable as D&D, or whatever you play, understanding and calm responses are needed. It’s vastly important to grasp that it’s OK to have different perceptions of how the game should be played, of what is fun. The game can still be appreciated by everyone. So that is my insight to you. Attune to the Ioun stone and understand that there is no room for Derek in your group. That goes for players and GM’s alike.

I really hate Derek.

The Forgotten DM

@DNDObsession

Here are links to my main resources for this piece:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flow_(psychology)

http://faculty.humanities.uci.edu/poster/syllabi/readings/ryan.html

https://books.google.com/books?id=lNt6bdfoyxQC&pg=PA220&lpg=PA220&dq=merging+of+action+and+awareness&source=bl&ots=k9Qwlvf5yg&sig=YAJ4NZFbDfjCJdgMHz3TtB7aUyM&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwil8-3b5tLTAhUhxYMKHdVmBmgQ6AEIbDAN#v=onepage&q=merging%20of%20action%20and%20awareness&f=false

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/media-spotlight/201402/are-there-benefits-in-playing-video-games