By "scene-setting" I've been meaning the opening and closing of "episodes" or "encounters" in the game - scene-framing and scene-closure.the flow of an adventure, of the structure (is this what is meant by scene-setting?) or let them 'skip to the end'.
This is separate from structure, I think, although related to it.
When you talk about "flow" or "structure" I think of A > B > C vs A > C > B (or maybe B is now redundant, if the players have "skipped to the end"). Ron Edwards describes the control of this as "plot authority". If it's all under the GM's control - if nothing the players do can influence the sequence in which these events happen - then I think we have a railroad by most people's understanding.
Of course, what counts as an event, in the relevant sense, is game and group relative - eg for some D&D players shopping at the fair is an event, and for many D&D players overland travel is an event, whereas for most superhero players shopping is not an event, and for many travel may not be either. In my view some of the disagreement in this thread is a result of people not recognising that what counts as an event in the unfolding story of the PCs is not independent of game systems and group preferences.
Scene framing is different - it's getting to specify the starting parameters of the events as they occur (eg is it night or day, is the Duke in a good or bad mood, does he have 5 lvl 2 bodyguards or 10 lvl 8 ones, etc).
In typical D&D play plot authority and scene-setting authority blend together, however, because the action-resolution mechanics are so open-ended - the mechanics are mostly task-resolution, and the players are always allowed to have their PCs attempt a task. And conversely, the official rules have very little to say about how we might move from one episode to another other than by the players describing the tasks that their PCs undertake.
If you want to play a game in which the players have a lot of plot authority but the GM has a lot of scene-framing authority, then you may need to constrain the action-resolution mechanics in some way, either by convention at the table, or by building it into the rules themselves (perhaps by switching to conflict-resolution mechanics). Skill challenges in 4e are the first example I can think of in D&D that create the possibility, at the purely mechanical level, for a separation of plot authority from scene framing - players can, in principle, choose whether to attempt to resolve situation X or Y or Z (and thus exercise plot authority) but the GM gets to establish the initial parameters for each skill challenge, and the skill challenge mechanics themselves tell us when the scene is resolved (see below for more on this).
This is a pretty typical way to play D&D - the GM describes the opening situation in the first session of the campaign, and then it expands from there. Is that railroading? I don't think so - it's just "playing D&D".What I'm describing might be a bit closer to narrow-wide-wide, where the start of an adventure is fixed but both the methods and conclusion are more open.
On the other hand, in Sorcerer it would be outrageous railroading, even cheating, by the GM, because in Sorcerer the players specify the starting situation, by building a so-called "kicker" into their PC description.
Interesting.I have seen railroaded used in a non-pejorative sense fairly often also, just to add to the confusion over the term. So railroaded doesn't necessarily mean bad, though it usually does.
I'm going to suggest an alternative definition:
The GM in an rpg has a lot of power. But the GM's presence is normally invisible. He acts thru NPCs, the environment, the world. The players can suspend their disbelief and believe that they are living in a secondary world. Railroading occurs when the GM's normally invisible hand becomes visible.
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By this definition, railroading is not necessarily a bad thing. Okay, it's bad that the players can no longer suspend disbelief, but that might be the lesser of two evils. It can be beneficial for the players to know where the plot is, to know where the GM's prepared material is, to be directed toward the adventure. This is where the visible hand, pushing, is a good thing, because it becomes perfectly clear what the PCs should do.
I tend to follow the Forge in my terminology, and so prefer to use "railroading" only for the GM using force to deprotagonise the players. But as I've already said, what counts as deprotagonising is game and group relative.
As to the GM's visible hand - after reading Edwards' discussion of ouija board roleplaying, and noticing that that is applicable to some of the sessions I've GMed, I've become a bit more ready for the GM to use force, rather than faff around hoping the action resolution mechanics will get the game to an interesting place. But I don't like to deprotagonise my players. I've therefore become more attracted to games that impose a clearer limit on action resolution mechanics (see 4e's encounter powers, milestones etc), to give the GM a bit more freedom in scene framing, and that at the same time give the players more authority over the plot, by enabling the players to force encounters to a conclusion - most fantasy RPG rules have this feature when it comes to combat (conclusion = foes at 0 hp) but 4e also has this feature in noncombat situations, via skill challenges - after at most 14 primary skill checks we'll all know the outcome one way or another! The GM can't just keep stringing the players along.
I don't want to be too forward in analysing sessions of play that you participated in and I didn't - but in the first, it seems to me that what was at stake was not only beating the bad guy, but succeeding in expressing your PC in a way that made her look heroic rather than useless. (Edwards has interesting things to say about the importance of this - ie of the mechanics allowing for PCs to fail at their overall goal without the player having to envisage his/her PC as a failure.) This latter was achieved. And then you got to beat the bad guy pretty soon after. Overall, very little or no deprotagonisation.Here's a couple of examples of railroading, one good, one bad, that I experienced as a player.
Good:
Penultimate session of a fixed length campaign.
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My character was amazingly physically capable and I felt she had finally been properly tested by a physical challenge and got to show what she could do. I never felt that I must be able to succeed for the encounter to be fun. I was fine with following the rules of 'story'. I mean, what's one more tier of rules in an rpg? There are already so many.
Bad:
The PCs were defending an underwater city from attack by raiders.
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It was a setup, there was no way we could have successfully defended the city.
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Why is the second one bad and the first one good? In the former we still got to be big damn heroes, it was only delayed by one session. We didn't majorly fail. In the latter we had a huge appalling, terrible failure that had all been planned by the GM, for no particularly good reason imo, and, maybe worse, it was completely implausible. How could the city have lasted for so long if its force field went down to one blast from raiders they've been contending with for years?
There was a sense, with the first GM, of essential benevolence, of using the railroading for the purpose of telling an entertaining story. Whereas with the second GM I get the sense he was saying, "Hah! Gotcha! You thought you were heroes? Well you just lost a city, not so heroic now, eh?" Can't be good, that.
Whereas in the second scenario, you are forced to play out your PCs failures in a way that doesn't at all express your conception of your PC.
I can think of at least two ways to handle the "fall of Atlantis" which are in principle viable, although both will misfire if the players aren't interested in playing a game that deals with the consequences of the fall of Atlantis. One is to simply skip over the battle - the GM explains to the players that the forces are overwheliming in number and firepower, and despite the PCs best efforts as defenders the city falls. The question for the game now becomes - What do you do, having lost the battle? Approached this way the fall of Atlantis is not an encounter at all, it's just a prelude to actual play - so protagonism and deprotagonism are not even on the table.
The second is to play out the battle, but have the interesting aspects of play not being the military stuff - which the PCs can't win - but the social and emotional aspects of the downfall - who do the PCs choose to take with them in the escape pod, for example, and who do they leave to die or be taken prisoner? This would help set up some further context for playing out the consequences of the downfall, and would allow the players to express their PCs in ways that aren't predetermined by the GM.
But obviously neither of these approaches would work for a typical fantasy or science-fantasy game where the whole point of the game, from the players' point of view, is to be heroic defenders of Atlantis. In that sort of game it is obvious railroading for the GM to build in a defeat from the get-go.
This also confirms that railroading is not just about action resolution mechanics but also about scene-setting. In the fall of Atlantis, as you described it, the GM didn't fudge any die rolls in the action resolution - it's just that he framed the scene in such a way that victory for the PCs was impossible (a bit like the notorious 1st level PCs vs Ancient Red Dragon). Another reason I like 4e D&D is that has robust encounter-building guidelines that give me, as GM, a much better handle on how to frame scenes that will preserve player agency during combat rather than steamroll over it with game-mechanically-unbeatable monsters.