Vincent Baker wrote this in
a blog over 15 years ago:
The real cause and effect in a roleplaying game isn't in the fictional game world, it's at the table, in what the players and GM say and do.
If you want awesome stuff to happen in your game, you don't need rules to model the characters doing awesome things, you need rules to provoke the players to say awesome things. That's the real cause and effect at work: things happen because someone says they do. If you want cool things to happen, get someone to say something cool. . . .
If your rules model a character's doing cool things, and in so doing they get the players to say cool things, that's great. I have nothing against modeling the cool things characters do as such.
Just, if your rules model a character's doing cool things, but the player using them still says dull things, that's not so great. . . .
You want your rules to actually GET them to say cool things. Turning to them like "okay say something cool. Well? Well?" is a crappy way to go about that, it doesn't work.
No, what you have to do as designer is organize the game behind the scenes, like, so that what the players say without really thinking, what they say just naturally, are cool things. . . .
I'm talking about what I think is cool. I design games to get you to say things that I think are cool. So should you, if you design games.
My supposition is that you and your friends all agree with me about what's cool. If you don't, you won't pick up my games in the first place. (Which is fine. If you don't think is cool what I think is cool, you won't like my games, please don't bother.)
If you don't even agree with each other about what's cool, I've got absolutely nothing for you. Are you sure you should be playing games together in the first place?
I think this is relevant to the current discussion in a couple of ways.
It emphasises that, if the goal is to have play that is awesome and cool ("exciting" and "memorable" in the language of the 5e D&D rules), then we want processes of play that naturally prompt people at the table do say cool, awesome, exciting and memorable thing. The issue upthread of the player whose PC Firebolted a random bird is an illustration of a failure in this respect. Rather than the set-up of the game prompting the player to say something cool, awesome, exciting and/or memorable, it prompted them to say something silly and annoying.
For me, a GM who insisted on "rule zero" in the hardcore/"absolute power" sense that some are advocating in this thread, would ring alarm bells: it's like they don't trust their chosen game system,
or the other people they are playing with, to reliably produce cool, awesome, exciting and/or memorable stuff. To me it would imply that they think that only they can do that, and that the contributions of others are a potential threat which they need to reserve the power to shut down.
The second relevance comes out of Baker's final paragraph that I have quoted. Some posts in this thread seem to assume that it is fine, in RPGing, for the participants to have wildly different view about what is cool, awesome, exciting and/or memorable; and that it is the job of the GM to run over the top of that and impose their own view of the cool, awesome, exciting and memorable. To me, that seems to be a recipe for bad, unsatisfying play. As a RPGer, I play with people who, when the say stuff that they think is cool, awesome, exciting and/or memorable, are saying stuff that I also think is cool, awesome, exciting and/or memorable.
We won't always be moved by the same reasons - I can still remember the surprise at the table when one player's PC (in a 4e D&D game) ruthlessly killed some Hobgoblins as they surrendered, because they had been kidnapping children; and the surprise from
that player years later in a Traveller session, when a different player had his PC ruthlessly blow up a civilian spacecraft and its commander and crew. (I started a thread about that one
here.) But there's no doubt that these events were exciting, if also shocking, at the time, and remain memorable despite the passage of years.
I can't imagine playing with people who regularly propose fiction that I find dull or off-putting.