The TLDR:

‘Casual vs competitive’ is a false dichotomy. People come to games for many different reasons.

Players who have a particular affinity for or comfort in externally moderated competitive play tend to have their goals/needs privileged over other players, at least in CCG/LCG communities like Netrunner .

This privilege grants them power within communities which can lead to entitlement and unreasonable expectations.

The combination of this privilege and entitlement slowly pushes a community towards being more ideally suited to the already privileged players, while becoming increasingly unsuitable for or exclusionary towards other players.

This problem is magnified when the IP owning company is seen as the leader or scene setter of a game’s community, reducing the power of the community itself to self-direct.

Seeing competitive and other players as being on equal standing in terms of being able to say ‘you have your fun and I’ll have mine’ is therefore problematic.

____________________________________________

This is something of a rebuttal article to one recently posted over at the Winning Agenda. I’m going to be somewhat confrontational but I also want to be quite clear that it’s not out of any ill-will. I’m from the same town as the Winning Agenda folks and play against all of them semi-regularly. They have done, and continue to do, a fair bit in establishing and maintaining the scene down here in Melbourne. Nevertheless, some time ago I said I might write something up about these kind of issues. Now seems a pretty good time.

To quickly summarize Brian’s article: Competitive players get a bad wrap and there are a lot of negative stereotypes that surround them. There’s also a defense of having judges at events and having events with cash prizes. Brian’s general request is that other players stop perceiving the goals of competitive players in such a harsh light, and to extend them courtesy and respect to allow them to enjoy their play.

Brian simply uses ‘people who play in tournaments’ as a definition for ‘competitive players’. I will go a bit deeper and define them as ‘players whose ideal space of play is structured, strategy-focused competition’. For plenty of tournament players, as we will see, it is not.

My background is a blend of academic and practical games design and theory- Primarily I study the industry and I study players themselves. What are the different reasons players might play a game? How do you get people over the learning curve for competition? How do you create events with different priorities? So this whole discussion around community, kinds of fun and styles of play is nothing new to me. Honestly, I feel Brian’s article completely misses the point, perhaps out of a desire to keep things simple. Unfortunately there aren’t any truly simple answers or observations to be made here. Play is an exceptionally complicated thing and so I think I need to go in depth to dig up why I feel the article is a problem.

_____________________________________________

Firstly, there is an underlying consideration that colors this discussion that we, as communities of players, are having to learn to navigate. The game we are playing is produced by a single company which also sponsors and directs the community. Historically (anywhere beyond, say, 50 years ago), this has not been the case: Either a game has not had an ‘owner’ per-se, only someone who owned the rights to a particular league or format, or the owner has not been an active participant in the on-going life of the game- all they do is sell the board/cards/rulebook etc. By and large, communities of players self-regulated, independent of commercial interests. Where structure was needed, it was the player communities that established and moderated it.

As a good example, I used to be something of a ‘competitive’ warhammer player. Despite flawed and complex rule-writing, very unbalanced gameplay and the intense amount of effort required to even create an army to play with, Australia had a flourishing competitive scene for a time. Knowing that the IP owning company was not at all interested in supporting a tournament scene, players created their own. They found ways of balancing out or clarifying the issues that made the game problematic for competitive play. These varied between local or regional groups, but had a degree of cross-pollination. This grass-roots scene was so successful it eventually even included a national ranking system and a world-championship type event. It worked very well, especially given the product they were working with.

Having a company who both produce the game and are intricately involved in the running of the community changes that at a fundamental level. When presented with a problem, instead of knowing that we’re on our own and so it’s up to us to keep an eye on where we want the game to go and find solutions that work for that, all heads turn to the ultimate authority presented by the company itself.

____________________________________

This magnifies two significant challenges for any community, which are, at the risk of making this sound like a conversation about social justice, entitlement and privilege.

Entitlement changes the way a community sees its own labor. A community with no source of ultimate authority like FFG will generally see the work that goes into it as being purely for the maintenance and love of the game. People make tutorials, artwork, tournaments and so on simply because they’re passionate, with no expectation of any extrinsic reward or status. A company being active in the community changes that perspective and makes people think about that labor in relation to the company- all of that work just benefits FFG’s bottom line and as a result, those who do it can begin to feel entitled to certain things in return, specifically the company’s support and direction being focused on their particular goals for the game. This attitude can then subtly spread to being entitled to things from other members of the community- expecting a higher degree of respect because of how much they ‘invest’ in the game, changing it from something that is done for its own sake (or the sake of fostering a passionate community), to something that requires external validation or political gain to be worthwhile.

Privilege is, well, the same as the sociological construct. A company will want people to play in a particular kind of way, either thanks to their own vision for the product or under pressure from powerful and/or entitled members of the community. That kind of play and the players who get the most out of it are privileged by receiving a whole variety of subtle benefits from the company’s style of supporting the game, as well as trickle-down effects of that style (Eg. Game stores running exclusively tournament-structured events, since that’s all the company directly supports). Ritualized competitive play is already a deeply privileged play-form amongst western communities and particularly those of young men, thanks to ideals that glorify and promote it as ‘enlightened’ or ‘superior’ that have existed for thousands of years (this is probably why it is commonly seen as the default by companies looking to have a professional involvement in developing a community of players). The result is that competitive players receive a whole load of benefits that they might have trouble recognizing as such, where other kinds of player have to make do. To the privileged, privileges just seem to ‘make sense’, like the idea that the player in a tournament who wins the most matches gets the highest prize, or that a tournament where players are completely randomly matched is strictly worse than one where they’re matched by the swiss system. Looked at under a lens where all participants in the tournament are assumed to be competitive players, these make sense, but in reality a good proportion of players won’t be. The response from competitive players might be ‘well why are they playing in the event then?’. Perhaps because there are few to no other opportunities to play against strangers, or to get swag, or just feel like part of something bigger. To be able to get these things in an environment specifically tailored to them are the privileges competitive players are extended that other players are frequently denied.

I would argue that competitive players are especially privileged in CCG/LCG communities in general, though actually somewhat less in Netrunner than some others (Magic and Pokemon spring to mind). I would also argue that competitive players who participate in several such communities are often quite entitled in their expectations, thanks to long established cultures, and carry their assumptions and entitlements over to the Netrunner community.

_________________________________________________

Having set all this out, let’s have a look at some of the problems Brian addresses in his article.

‘Competitive play is unfriendly’

I would argue that what the people who say this are really saying is that competitive players are blind to their privileges. Brian suggests that both competitive and casual players can be unfriendly, that in either case this is bad, but that it has little to do with their playstyle. I agree in principle, but privilege changes the equation. Because the environments in which strangers or acquaintances meet to play CCG/LCGs tend to be structured for them, competitive players tend to already be in their comfort zone to a greater degree than other players.

As a scene becomes more focused around structured competition, spaces where other kinds of player can feel at home dwindle and the privilege competitive players experience only grows. If they don’t recognize and counteract it (I feel Brian’s article is a perfect example of this ‘let’s just all enjoy what we have even though I have far more than you’ kind of blindness), this will simply cause the members of the scene who aren’t at home in that space to slowly drain away.

It’s worth noting that in the vast majority of communities those members tend to make up the majority of players. Competitive players receive a hugely disproportionate amount of support and attention even if one doesn’t consider organized events, support which is ultimately subsidized by the remainder of the market. You can’t blame that remainder for being a little frustrated when the competitive players cannot even conceive of that without having it explained to them.

The result is a trend towards insularity and close-mindedness in communities structured around competition. It’s important to realize that this is not a result of competitive players being in some fundamental way less pleasant people than other players, just the inevitable result of a privileged group exploiting all the power of their privilege to benefit themselves without recognizing the powerful segregating and isolating effect it has. Competitive gamers are particularly susceptible to this, in my mind, because their personalities are keyed towards maximizing every advantage in the first place! Unfortunately, this is self defeating. Without the additional players to subsidize the competitive scene, the scene itself begins to wither, creating something of a vicious cycle. I’ve seen this happen to several gaming communities.

It goes without saying that I would really, really rather this didn’t happen to Netrunner.

‘Competitive players don’t play for fun’

Again, I would argue that when people say this, what they mean is that competitive players’ notions of fun exclude other players from enjoying their own. A player who wants to have a relaxing, social bout against a stranger is in direct competition with a player who is there to grind out practice games with their deck under strict formal rules. Both players are there to have the kind of fun they want, but in most cases I’ve found it’s the competitive player who pushes for their kind of fun to be respected over and above the other’s.

The problem, again, isn’t that competitive players don’t play for fun, but that their kind of fun is overwhelmingly privileged in the company-supported communities that LCG/CCGs often are. Since this often makes it very difficult for other players to find a good space for the kind of fun they’re seeking, those players become frustrated and lash out at the competitive players, who don’t really understand what the fuss is about, which only makes the ill-feeling worse.

It’s quite possible for a scene to provide space for everyone to get their kicks, but it requires open dialogue and self reflection, both on the part of the privileged community and those who feel their play is being excluded. I’ve found it’s often very difficult for people to pin down and communicate just what makes ‘fun’ fun, but that’s something that needs to be done if a scene is going to support a diversity of fun experiences, grow, thrive and successfully support competitive players needs.

‘Net-Decking is bad’

I feel that this, again, comes from a similar place of feeling excluded. There’s nothing wrong with Net-decking in the same way there’s nothing wrong with taking a day off once in a while if you don’t feel up to getting things done- so long as everyone only does it intermittently, everything is fine, but if everyone starts doing it regularly it can change the whole tone of a scene.

The issue is that a culture in which net-decking becomes the accepted norm de-values the potential for creative expression inherent within a game like Netrunner. If winning the highest possible percentage of your games is seen as the primary goal for a Netrunner player, it makes total sense to net-deck the deck which achieves that most consistently. Yet I feel that for most players that isn’t the primary goal or, if it is, it’s only by a small margin. If Net-decking does become the norm due to the privileging of competitive environments, then far from being a nice, relaxing alternative to all the stress of deckbuilding, net-decking becomes something people feel obliged to do when they would prefer to be more experimental.

As an example of howthis can develop, I have occasionally felt like I’m letting competitive players down by bringing untested homebrew to a tournament after not having played for months. If what they’re seeking is a match against a known and clear matchup piloted by a confident and careful pilot, I am just wasting their time, not letting them enjoy their event. The least I can do is just look up a strong deck to bring so I’m not totally being a bore. These feelings partly derive from the articles about competitive play I read that talk about what I would call ‘swiss cheese’, decks that are one-trick ponies that thrive early in a tournament, but lose consistently once figured out. Many homebrews fit this category, and competitive players tend to talk about them with no small amount of quiet scorn because they disrupt their ideal ‘fun’- they tend to see players who use those decks as ‘spoilers’ who are just there to ruin their chances, rather than legitimate competitors. Whether that tilt is externalized or not, I have no desire to be perceived in that way. I still bring swiss cheese to most tournaments, but these days a lot of my motives are a very active desire to subvert and resist the assumptions I am expected to play under and be true to my own goals in play.

I’ve come to recognize this as a great example of the entitlement competitive players have- they feel entitled to have every other player at a tournament treat their ideal of fun as the most important one. This tends to be phrased as ‘treating the tournament with respect’. They think about how not caring about winning the tournament devalues their ideal of fun. They certainly don’t think about how their net-deck devalues the other player’s ideal of fun.

Once again, we return to privilege. Competitive players already have comparatively ample opportunity to experience close to their ideals of fun and, often, the ‘spoilers’ are only there because there is literally nowhere else they can experience large scale organized play. Those players would like their scene to recognize the kind of fun they enjoy- pitting the creativity of individual players against each other, perhaps. The scene does not, they get annoyed and lash out at net decking.

‘We Don’t Need Judges’

I find myself pretty much in agreement with Brian here- Judges are a great thing to have around. However, I think a judge is just a representation of a more important thing to have, for competitive play at least: An established and strictly followed set of rules that do not vary during an event without the agreement of all players present. A judge acts as a source of authority and moderator through which those rules can be upheld or (if agreed upon by everyone) changed.

However, it’s worth noting that Netrunner is not Magic the Gathering. This game is not produced by a team of dozens of designers and supported by a multi-million dollar community development program which includes both rigorous standardization and a formal programme for training judges to be able to make use of it. It’s not even produced by a company that has much experience with complex card game design. Fantasy Flight is a small boardgame and roleplaying game company at heart and it’s critical to understand how this alters what a player community might expect when it comes to having judges around, especially ones as consistent and capable as Brian suggests the community ought to expect. The reality is that having judges with the social skills, integrity and distance necessary to help players feel comfortable without extensive support and training is a big ask. Judges need to be close to beyond reproach and, sadly, there have been many occasions where Netrunner judges, because of the more slipshod approach we must adopt, haven’t been.

Fundamentally I also believe it is more healthy for a community to promote players communicating with each other and resolving disputes in the spirit of mutual enjoyment and sportsmanship than to seek to have play conducted under an externalized authority. Relying on others to resolve disputes, while critical in a high pressure tournament environment, also further fosters entitlement- players begin to feel less need to maintain a high degree of integrity and active care for their opponent’s enjoyment in their play. It ceases to become something done because it is good for everyone and starts becoming something done because one has to to avoid being punished. From there things progress until the basic assumption of the community is ‘gamers gonna game’.

So, let’s have judges! But not everywhere, all the time. I think setting aside the resources to import an impartial judge for regional level competitions would be great. I think having a recognized arbitrator at all organized events is a good idea too. My only suggestion is that as a community we value the ability to resolve disputes without arbitration or recourse to external authority over how much we value consistency in rulings. I’m certain that the former will be better for the long term health of the community, competitive or otherwise. It’s that kind of caring and thoughtfulness that attracted many of us to Netrunner in the first place, after all.

‘Playing for money is Bad’

Playing for money is a difficult and complex subject. To try and keep things brief, the unfortunate truth is that adding a clear financial aspect to a community’s play reinforces existing privileges and fosters an additional dimension of entitlement amongst competitive players. Simply, if there is tension in a community between a deeply invested competitive scene and players who enjoy the competitive environment less, having money in play will only make that tension worse.

There is nothing inherently bad about playing for money, just as there’s nothing inherently bad about playing with fire. It is the situation one does it in, and how much care one takes to shelter oneself and others from the potential side effects that matters.

I feel, personally, that at this time the Netrunner community is better off without cash tournaments. With those tournaments will come a raft of expectations and cultures from player communities that tend towards exclusion and abuse. They will open up further potential for hard feelings and drama that has the potential not just to alienate competitive players but will create a very negative atmosphere for those who wish to enjoy the scene but not focus on competition. The most unanimous statement I have heard from Netrunner players who have experience with other CCGs is that it is a far more pleasant place than the Magic community. I believe that this is, at the moment, a direct result of not having a cash (or cash-redeemable) prize based organized play community and of FFG’s decision to very deliberately focus their support away from that.

In time I expect Netrunner will grow to be able to support the demanding competitive spaces that competition for cash requires, but I do not feel that it can right now and I’m frankly worried that pressure to create that kind of competitive space is actively damaging the scene.

_________________________________________________

This might come as a surprise after all the rhetoric above, but I’d like to point out that at heart I am an extremely competitive player. There is nothing I enjoy more than grinding toward victory, testing my skills and developing my play. Yet I’m also an ecumenical player- I’ve learned that that fierce drive can be unhealthy and close me off from many other enjoyable kinds of play. More importantly, I’ve learned that it is a kind of play that requires a high degree of consideration, even grace, to carry off so that everyone involved, including players who value what I do less, genuinely enjoy themselves. Sadly, I’ve found competitive communities are rarely either considerate or graceful outside a close-knit circle. Often competitive players view anything but the most superficial respect for another player as something that player has to earn, rather than something to be extended by default, something I have come to heartily disagree with.

Even so, I love competition. I want to see a thriving competitive Netrunner scene as much as Brian. I just don’t want it to come at the expense of other players as I feel it inevitably will if competitive players are allowed to shape the community to their liking. The biggest lesson I’ve learned in my time studying games of all kinds is to not only respect the needs of other players, but learn to celebrate and find personal enjoyment in their kinds of ideal play, rather than always putting my own first. Privilege allows competitive players, to some degree, to demand other players learn to love playing the way they do, but rarely does it go the other way.

The fundamental paradox at play here is that we all just want to enjoy our own play, sit back, relax, and get into the zone. As the saying goes, however, it takes two to tango. It’s rarely something we actually want to do initially, but in my experience the most successful and sustainable communities of play are founded on communication, sharing and a willingness to step back from one’s own ideal space to allow other player(s) achieve their needs.

Here are some ideas to that effect:

If you wish to actively create content or spaces for players, I really, really recommend reading my huge article on player types. At the very least it can give you new avenues for asking players what they might want more of.

Consider running tournaments which do not give the ‘winner’ a material payout. For example, if the prize pool is a game night kit, give the winner a playset of participation cards instead of just one, perhaps, but allocate the playmat, boxes and alt-arts as door prizes or for some quality or capability other than strategic competition- perhaps prioritize new players or someone who scores highest on a netrunner quiz etc.

If you do use a place-based prizing structure, make it as flat as possible. (Anecdotally, this has proved an incredibly successful strategy in terms of building numbers for Magic for the main local store I and the Winning Agenda folks share. For Friday Night Magic, a draft pool (eight players) is prized from a pool of 12 boosters: 1 booster from 8th-4th, 2 boosters for 3 rd and 2nd, 3 for 1 st , plus a random chance at a promo for everyone else. Competitive players were aggressively (even abusively) skeptical of this model compared to a more top heavy prize structure, but the store has tripled (or more) their FNM sizes since adopting that prizing and caused other local stores to change to it as well) Rewarding people for playing for all different kinds of fun has been far more successful at creating a thriving community than rewarding only the fun that comes from the striving to be on top of the bracket in my experience.

Rewarding people for playing for all different kinds of fun has been far more successful at creating a thriving community than rewarding only the fun that comes from the striving to be on top of the bracket in my experience. Do not assume players care about winning. If possible actively encourage players to feel free to not care about winning, as in my experience many players feel pressured to care more than they might actually wish to. Consider, discuss and promote other positive aspects of play as equal to or more important than winning (and not just as a path towards being able to win more in the future).

care about winning, as in my experience many players feel pressured to care more than they might actually wish to. Consider, discuss and promote other positive aspects of play as equal to or more important than winning (and not just as a path towards being able to win more in the future). If you care about the community’s overall health, but wish to cater your events/content/focus to the competitive community alone, try to do so only if it is in addition to any other content or events you might invest time in. Do not simply assume ‘I’ll do my thing, they’ll do theirs’.

If you are a competitive player and this doesn’t really sound all that great to you, consider this- There’s already more being done to help you enjoy yourself the way you like most than anyone else in the scene. I guarantee it. If you can’t come and enjoy the pleasure of winning an event without the promise of having your particular interests favoured, perhaps you don’t actually enjoy Netrunner as much as you think you do.

To close out, I do want to give Brian some genuine credit for running a couple of interesting and thoughtful events recently, a charity tournament and a team tournament. These events still privilege competitive players, but I still think they’re an awesome addition to our scene. So big props there! While I clearly disagree with his perspective and feel he hasn’t thought it through, I will also complement him for spending the time to at least voice his thoughts and concerns. That’s how discussion starts. I hope it will continue!

Stefan