G/N/S epiphany

Dogbrain

First Post
Thanee said:
It's like colors. Not every color is red, green (or yellow for pure colors) or blue, they are just the 'extremes', yet with R/G/B you can classify every color.

Actually, that's a matter of debate, especially if one considers the existence of those rare tetrachromats running around.
 

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the Jester

Legend
Dogbrain said:
Actually, that's a matter of debate, especially if one considers the existence of those rare tetrachromats running around.

I know this is taking the thread off topic, but what's a tetrachromat?
 

Haiku Elvis

Knuckle-dusters, glass jaws and wooden hearts.
I know this is taking the thread off topic, but what's a tetrachromat?

tetrachromat in British English(ˌtɛtrəˈkrəʊmæt ) noun. a person or animal whose eyes contain four types of photoreceptor, and who can therefore see an unusually wide range of colours.
Dear @the Jester please find an answer to your question. Sorry it took almost 20 years.
 

Vael

Legend
Most of the time I've seen G/N/S theory, it's being used to dress up a subjective opinion into pseudo-scientific fact.

So it's not "I don't like this game", it's "This game is objectively bad because it is too G/N/S."
 
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aramis erak

Legend
Mainly because no one is fully one of the three; every Gamist has a little roleplay and angst that comes out sometimes, every narrativist has an occasional need to blast the living daylights out of something, and every simulationist recognizes the need for fast and loose occasionally. The pigeonholing that goes on with many people who take the theory and say, "oh, you know him, he's a narrativist" or "he's so gamist in his approach" does a disservice to the persons involved.

Now, I can recognize it's use for classifying types of GAMES, and classifying the tendencies of certain gamers, but trying to pigeonhole one person to one style comes out wrong most every time.

At least that's my take on it.
Part of the reason for that is that Ron Edwards (who created the conceptual framework) felt each game was one of those three, not some combination of them. He also felt anyone (explicitly including me) who wanted hybrid approaches was self-deluded. My experiences and interactions with him lead to conclusions not sharable within board rules, but do not negate the value of his initial conceptual model: that players whose desires don't match the game played are going to be finding flaws with the game's rules, often ones that are not flaws to the intended audiences...

If one instead sees it as a triangular space with G, S, and N modes in the corners, most will tend towards, but not be at, the corners. A lot of players (IME, right around 40%) tend to be on or really close to the GS edge, leaning slightly more towards G than S.
 


pemerton

Legend
Ron Edwards (who created the conceptual framework) felt each game was one of those three, not some combination of them. He also felt anyone (explicitly including me) who wanted hybrid approaches was self-deluded.
Did he?

From here:

As far as I can tell, Simulationist game design runs into a lot of potential trouble when it includes secondary hybridization with the other modes of play. Gamist or Narrativist features as supportive elements introduce the thin end of the metagame-agenda wedge. The usual result is to defend against the "creeping Gamism" with rules-bloat, or to encourage negatively-extreme deception or authority in the GM in order to preserve an intended set of plot events, which is to say, railroading. In other words, a baseline Simulationist focus is easily subverted, leading to incoherence. . . .

Hybrids are much better off using Simulationism as a secondary design feature, rather than as the primary. The Riddle of Steel is a successful hybrid because its primary Narrativist emphasis is so mechanically influential and integrated with the reward system, that it cannot be ignored or subverted.​

From here:

Simulationist play is an excellent "subordinate" mode for Gamist play. A game designed toward this sort of play is also open to functional Drift toward Sim-only as people toss out that "weird stuff" or that "powergamer" stuff. See Rifts, Shadowrun, and Age of Heroes.

However, Gamist play is a terrible "subordinate" mode for Simulationist play, because it takes over in a heartbeat, for all the reasons listed above. I should clarify, however, that I'm talking strictly about play itself, not texts. Looking at texts through several editions, the overwhelming tendency is to Drift toward Simulationism. . . .

Step On Up is actually quite similar, in social and interactive terms, to Story Now. Gamist and Narrativist play often share the following things . . . <details elided> . . . The activity of play doesn't hybridize well between Gamism and Narrativism, but it does shift, sometimes quite easily.​

From here:

Simulationist play works as an underpinning to Narrativist play, insofar as bits or sub-scenes of play can shift into extensive set-up or reinforcers for upcoming Bang-oriented moments. It differs from the Explorative chassis for Narrativist play, even an extensive one, in that one really has to stop addressing Premise and focus on in-game causality per se. Such scenes or details can take on an interest of their own, as with the many pages describing military hardware in a Tom Clancy novel. It's a bit risky, as one can attract (e.g.) hardware-nuts who care very little for Premise as well as Premise-nuts who get bored by one too many hardware-pages, and end up pleasing neither enough to attract them further. . . .

Can Narrativist play underlie and reinforce a primarily Simulationist approach? I consider this to be a very interesting question, because it's not like Gamism in this regard at all. What happens when Premise is addressed sporadically, or develops so slowly that the majority of play is like those hardware-pages? Whether this is "slow Narrativism" or "S-N-S" or just plain dysfunctional play is a matter of specific instances, I think. But I do want to stress that it's not the "N/S blend" as commonly construed, which is to say, both priorities firing as equal pals.​

No one is described as "deluded" at all.
 

niklinna

satisfied?
Step On Up is actually quite similar, in social and interactive terms, to Story Now. Gamist and Narrativist play often share the following things . . . <details elided> . . . The activity of play doesn't hybridize well between Gamism and Narrativism, but it does shift, sometimes quite easily.
This use of "Step On Up" and "Gamism" in the same passage have me thinking about how I found Torchbearer 2 to interlock Gamist and Narrativist agendas really tightly. But now I'm wondering, because the Gamism I saw in the intricate systems isn't of the "Step On Up" variety, but more about system mastery, which, on reflection, is not at all the same as Step On Up. Good food for thought!
 

pemerton

Legend
This use of "Step On Up" and "Gamism" in the same passage have me thinking about how I found Torchbearer 2 to interlock Gamist and Narrativist agendas really tightly. But now I'm wondering, because the Gamism I saw in the intricate systems isn't of the "Step On Up" variety, but more about system mastery, which, on reflection, is not at all the same as Step On Up. Good food for thought!
System mastery is one manifestation of "step on up" as Edwards uses that phrase. To quote:

[Gamism] operates at two levels: the real, social people and the imaginative, in-game situation.

1. The players, armed with their understanding of the game and their strategic acumen, have to Step On Up. Step On Up requires strategizing, guts, and performance from the real people in the real world. This is the inherent "meaning" or agenda of Gamist play (analogous to the Dream in Simulationist play).

Gamist play, socially speaking, demands performance with risk, conducted and perceived by the people at the table. What's actually at risk can vary - for this level, though, it must be a social, real-people thing, usually a minor amount of recognition or esteem. The commitment to, or willingness to accept this risk is the key - it's analogous to committing to the sincerity of The Dream for Simulationist play. This is the whole core of the essay, that such a commitment is fun and perfectly viable for role-playing, just as it's viable for nearly any other sphere of human activity.

2. The in-game characters, armed with their skills, priorities, and so on, have to face a Challenge, which is to say, a specific Situation in the imaginary game-world. Challenge is about the strategizing, guts, and performance of the characters in this imaginary game-world.

For the characters, it's a risky situation in the game-world; in addition to that all-important risk, it can be as fabulous, elaborate, and thematic as any other sort of role-playing. Challenge is merely plain old Situation - it only gets a new name because of the necessary attention it must receive in Gamist play. Strategizing in and among the Challenge is the material, or arena, for whatever brand of Step On Up is operating.​

In the essay, he goes on to discuss the extent to which competition can be high or low at level 1, or level 2, or both, or neither. The following summarises rather than quotes:

*High competition among players, but not PCs, is team-based play with individual XP or other rewards (some classic D&D; Agon 2e);

*Low competition among players, but high among PCs, would be low-stakes intra-party scheming play (perhaps some Paranoia?);

*Both low would be team-based play with group XP or similar (eg some classic D&D tournament play, or a similar approach to a modern AP);

*Both high is competition among the PCs that translates into genuine competition among players, analogous to a wargame but via the RPG vehicle - a lot of D&Ders would see this as pretty munchkin-y stuff, I think.​

I think Torchbearer is either the first or the third, depending on how much competition there is among the players to collect advancement ticks and earn Fate and Persona (especially MVP).

The essay also distinguishes between "the gamble" and "the crunch". To quote again:

The Gamble occurs when the player's ability to manipulate the odds or clarify unknowns is seriously limited. "Hold your nose and jump!" is its battle-cry. Running a first-level character in all forms of D&D is a Gamble; all of Ninja Burger play is a Gamble. More locally, imagine a crucial charge made by a fighter character toward a dragon - his goal is to distract it from the other character's coordinated attack, and he's the only one whose hit points are sufficient to survive half its flame-blast. Will he make the saving roll? If he doesn't, he dies. Go!

The Crunch occurs when system-based strategy makes a big difference, either because the Fortune methods involved are predictable (e.g. probabilities on a single-die roll), or because effects are reliably additive or cancelling (e.g. Feats, spells). Gamist-heavy Champions play with powerful characters is very much about the Crunch. The villain's move occurs early in Phase 3; if the speed-guy saves his action from Phase 2 into Phase 3 to pre-empt that action, and if the brick-guy's punch late on Phase 3 can be enhanced first by the psionic-guy's augmenting power if he Pushes the power, then we can double-team the villain before he can kill the hostage.

The distinction between Gamble and Crunch isn't quite the same as "randomness;" it has more to do with options and consequences. Fortune can be involved in both of them, and it doesn't have to be involved in either (see Diplomacy for a non-RPG example).​

Torchbearer strongly leans towards Crunch. So does 4e D&D combat.

I wasn't there, and so can only make informed conjectures about your TB2e play. My default conjecture would be that your experience of both gamist and simulationist play is more likely to be the sort of shift that Edwards describes. For instance, in a conflict it is probably gamist priorities, with some colour overlay drawn from Beliefs, Goals, etc; but then when it comes time to negotiate a compromise that colour gets prioritised in a more narrativist fashion.

But your experience may belie my conjecture!
 

niklinna

satisfied?
System mastery is one manifestation of "step on up" as Edwards uses that phrase. To quote:

[Gamism] operates at two levels: the real, social people and the imaginative, in-game situation.​
1. The players, armed with their understanding of the game and their strategic acumen, have to Step On Up. Step On Up requires strategizing, guts, and performance from the real people in the real world. This is the inherent "meaning" or agenda of Gamist play (analogous to the Dream in Simulationist play).​
Gamist play, socially speaking, demands performance with risk, conducted and perceived by the people at the table. What's actually at risk can vary - for this level, though, it must be a social, real-people thing, usually a minor amount of recognition or esteem. The commitment to, or willingness to accept this risk is the key - it's analogous to committing to the sincerity of The Dream for Simulationist play. This is the whole core of the essay, that such a commitment is fun and perfectly viable for role-playing, just as it's viable for nearly any other sphere of human activity.​
2. The in-game characters, armed with their skills, priorities, and so on, have to face a Challenge, which is to say, a specific Situation in the imaginary game-world. Challenge is about the strategizing, guts, and performance of the characters in this imaginary game-world.​
For the characters, it's a risky situation in the game-world; in addition to that all-important risk, it can be as fabulous, elaborate, and thematic as any other sort of role-playing. Challenge is merely plain old Situation - it only gets a new name because of the necessary attention it must receive in Gamist play. Strategizing in and among the Challenge is the material, or arena, for whatever brand of Step On Up is operating.​


In the essay, he goes on to discuss the extent to which competition can be high or low at level 1, or level 2, or both, or neither. The following summarises rather than quotes:

*High competition among players, but not PCs, is team-based play with individual XP or other rewards (some classic D&D; Agon 2e);​
*Low competition among players, but high among PCs, would be low-stakes intra-party scheming play (perhaps some Paranoia?);​
*Both low would be team-based play with group XP or similar (eg some classic D&D tournament play, or a similar approach to a modern AP);​
*Both high is competition among the PCs that translates into genuine competition among players, analogous to a wargame but via the RPG vehicle - a lot of D&Ders would see this as pretty munchkin-y stuff, I think.​

I think Torchbearer is either the first or the third, depending on how much competition there is among the players to collect advancement ticks and earn Fate and Persona (especially MVP).

The essay also distinguishes between "the gamble" and "the crunch". To quote again:

The Gamble occurs when the player's ability to manipulate the odds or clarify unknowns is seriously limited. "Hold your nose and jump!" is its battle-cry. Running a first-level character in all forms of D&D is a Gamble; all of Ninja Burger play is a Gamble. More locally, imagine a crucial charge made by a fighter character toward a dragon - his goal is to distract it from the other character's coordinated attack, and he's the only one whose hit points are sufficient to survive half its flame-blast. Will he make the saving roll? If he doesn't, he dies. Go!​
The Crunch occurs when system-based strategy makes a big difference, either because the Fortune methods involved are predictable (e.g. probabilities on a single-die roll), or because effects are reliably additive or cancelling (e.g. Feats, spells). Gamist-heavy Champions play with powerful characters is very much about the Crunch. The villain's move occurs early in Phase 3; if the speed-guy saves his action from Phase 2 into Phase 3 to pre-empt that action, and if the brick-guy's punch late on Phase 3 can be enhanced first by the psionic-guy's augmenting power if he Pushes the power, then we can double-team the villain before he can kill the hostage.​
The distinction between Gamble and Crunch isn't quite the same as "randomness;" it has more to do with options and consequences. Fortune can be involved in both of them, and it doesn't have to be involved in either (see Diplomacy for a non-RPG example).​

Torchbearer strongly leans towards Crunch. So does 4e D&D combat.

I wasn't there, and so can only make informed conjectures about your TB2e play. My default conjecture would be that your experience of both gamist and simulationist play is more likely to be the sort of shift that Edwards describes. For instance, in a conflict it is probably gamist priorities, with some colour overlay drawn from Beliefs, Goals, etc; but then when it comes time to negotiate a compromise that colour gets prioritised in a more narrativist fashion.

But your experience may belie my conjecture!
This tracks with my TB2e experience. I will mention that my satisfaction with system mastery was much more personal than in showing what I'd figured out to others at the table—but I did point it out! Not so much to highlight superiority as to share my discoveries. Although there's definitely room for showing one's superiority at system mastery in that game.

By the way, I have read most of the GNS essays several times, but I am a bit in awe at your ability to quickly pull up the precise excerpts that answer whatever confusions or ambiguities people might bring up! I feel like such an underachiever by comparison. :)
 

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