Players Should Not Try to be Good

07 Nov, 2026

Credit: Naomi Castro. All hail Woke 3.

Why are you in my home?

Seriously. Go all the way back to first principles here.

Do you think I’m under the delusion that the adorable schmucks I happen to be friends with are actors and storytellers of the highest caliber? When you were a kid playing at recess, did you have high expectations for your classmates? There was a floor of behavior you expected them to meet - don't hit me, don't lie to me, follow the rules - the classics. But once that do-no-harm benchmark was reached, did you ever turn to your friends and say, "Y'all, that was a really mediocre game of tag. I hope we do better next time."

Have you noticed that nearly every player advice post boils down to "how to be a good friend"? Listen, compromise, have integrity, all that jazz? Turns out, reaching that behavioral floor - being prosocial and understanding the rules and procedures of the game - is the only standard that matters if your primary goal is a fun evening. I've never met someone who was a bad player and a good everything else.

Could you, theoretically, create a list of common social situations encountered in different play cultures and explain how best to respond to them? Sure. But that list would never be comprehensive enough to be practical.
People are complicated. You aren’t going to learn soft skills by reading a blog. We've already tried to encode the particulars of good behavior into a list of written rules - that's called "etiquette", and the only person I know who enjoys it is Travis McElroy.

You have to enthusiastically, publicly faceplant over and over until you learn social balance. And even that's not really being good at "the game", right? At least, not in a way that's distinct from being good company at Olive Garden. I enjoy watching my friends be clever, complicate a story, and put on a performance. But would I be disappointed in the absence of these things? 


No!

We are social animals. Being around other people makes us happier by default. That includes you too, my presumably sizable autistic audience. The worlds we craft hold puzzles, but they are so much more than puzzles. Do not demote me to a mere game designer. Worlds are playpens, built with love. I am interested in watching you muck around in them - in seeing you chart the unknown in all too familiar ways.¹ Empathy is fun, and empathy has no deeper prerequisite.

Credit: Kodasea, for Triangle Agency

"But what if I could be having even more fun?" 


You buffoon. You neurotic animal. Nobody is asking you to be anything more than what you are. Your presence is its own reward.

Life is about managing cycles of exertion and rest.² Do you think rigorous focus on optimal elfkissing is the most efficient place to spend your spoons? There's so little blood to squeeze from the "how to win at RP" stone. Can we all please just gag our protestant work ethics for three hours? That's the kind of third space we're all looking for, right? Somewhere to be ourselves, unconditionally.

What I actually want players to do

I want you to act like a grazing animal. I want you to emit behavior - to do whatever you want, immediately and without thinking. If that leads somewhere antisocial on accident we will correct you, vocally and immediately, without lasting consequence. I want you to genuinely believe that you are safe, and thereby become comfortable.

I do not want you to care about the inequities between the amount of work I'm putting in compared to you. Building your enrichment center is, for me, enrichment. Trust me - I'd be baking cookies, curating playlists, and building worlds even if you weren't here. Do not turn my gift into some paltry exchange.

I want you to kill the editor standing between me and the contours of your mind, because I really, sincerely enjoy understanding you. Asking "what would you do if you were a third-rate wizard being chased through a volcano by thirty ghouls?" is, conveniently, a great way to get to know somebody.

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#ruminations