I think the “GP outweighed kills in XP” point gets repeated as if it’s a silver bullet, but I don’t think it proves what people often think it does. Gold was never the goal in itself—it was the token that converted into XP, and XP was always what players actually cared about. What does XP buy you? Levels. And what do levels give you? More hit points, better attacks, more spells—all of which are overwhelmingly focused on combat.
So while the fictional wrapper of early editions was “you’re delving dungeons to haul out treasure,” the mechanical loop was “treasure → XP → levels → combat power → deeper dungeons and nastier monsters.” If the real goal was simply “get enough gold to be comfortable, fed, housed, and worry-free,” most campaigns could have wrapped up by level 3 or 4. But that wasn’t the loop anyone was playing. The loop was escalation: get stronger so you can fight bigger things.
That’s why the majority of rules in every edition—OD&D, AD&D, and onward—are devoted to combat: weapon tables, attack matrices, morale, initiative systems, spells (most of them combat-oriented), etc. If gold was truly the “point” of the game, you’d expect equally robust mechanics for managing wealth, building trade networks, or influencing the economy. Instead, treasure existed mainly as a scoring mechanism to fuel advancement toward the thing the rules actually cared about: fighting.
So I’d frame it this way: early D&D carried a survivalist skin—resource management, light, wandering monsters, encumbrance—but those were pressure valves designed to make combat decisions riskier and to give treasure a context. Over time, that skin peeled away, but what was left exposed was the skeleton that had always been there: kick down doors, fight monsters, get loot, repeat.
That’s why the survival rules feel vestigial today. They were never equal pillars alongside combat—they were scaffolding to support the combat-and-advancement loop. Once the design shed XP-for-gold and heroic fantasy took over, the scaffolding wasn’t needed anymore. But D&D still carries it, so it lingers as a kind of half-alive tradition.
I totally buy that what you call the “survivalist skin” was always subservient to the combat gameplay loop at most tables most of the time - I certainly can’t speak from history (I wasn’t there) but that is my sense from reading the rules and playing early editions. “Combat is a failure state” taken fully literally* doesn’t really match my experience of most D&D sessions of whatever edition (with the exception of a few very memorable ones)
That being said, I think this skin not being the central element of gameplay does not imply that it was vestigial-on-purpose from the outset. Whenever I’ve played with a functional version of the “survivalist skin” and taken it seriously, my dungeon delving experiences are almost always richer, from either side of the table. No one element (light, time, food, money, wandering monsters) is essential to consider at all times, but collectively, these elements add weight to player decisions, the bread and butter of rpgs, because they are now embedded in a system of cause and effect beyond just the individual combat encounter/trap/puzzle. Stripping out the scaffolding, the matrix of time and resource management, from the monster fighting puts most of the responsibility for risk and tension within a given isolated combat, rather than in broader strategic decision making.
I think this explains a lot of the current style of dungeon design, a mostly linear sequence of carefully designed and balanced, often hermetically sealed combat encounters (a style that reaches its apotheosis in Pathfinder 2e). The ideal contribution of the survivalist skin (and in my experience, often the reality) is that players start thinking above the level of the encounter, about the dungeon or dungeon level as a whole.** The monster fighting fundamentals by themselves can feel a bit impoverished on their own, by comparison. I can understand why a surprising number of modern D&D players say that they find Dungeon crawls (half of the titular Ds, at least!) boring! They frequently no longer have the supporting infrastructure that imbues them with much additional tension and consequence.
*I don’t think it’s originator meant it fully literally, but it is sometimes taken as such
** I am using dungeon in a pretty broad sense, any interconnected location full of risk and reward
Yes, the best design is always one that caters perfectly to your own preferences, while leaving options for folks who prefer differently to adjust.
As I understand my proposals, my argument is that folks who prefer differently won't have to adjust! The systems they already don't interact with still won't have to be interacted with, they'll just now work for those who want to interact with them. I suppose some responses in this thread suggest that some tables do infact get value specifically out of these things not working but still existing in their non functional form (e.g. players loving to say they have darkvision when the DM says its dark) - I still optimistically, maybe delusionally, think with a little bit of thought and modularity all of these varied preferences can be accommodated in a single system, and that we can have our cake and eat it too.
Depends what you think of when you envision the world of Tolkien. Modern DnD heroic fantasy has every character being Legolas, Gandalf, Galadriel, etc. Ridiculously powerful characters are certainly part of Tolkien's world, although the story mostly focuses on the less powerful characters, so when I think of a "Tolkien simulation" I would envision something much more nitty gritty survivalist than heroic fantasy
It's kind of interesting that this particular maybe rather narrow vision of heroic fantasy has become so dominant to be
the genre D&D is designed for, since I don't think this was always the case. Considering a broader "adventure" genre to draw from, just thinking about film, we have gameable elements in what you might call gritty survivalist threats in everything from Indiana Jones (with a scene where the last torch literally burns out) to Dune (with its prominent survival elements) to the Mummy (a bit of both).