Effects vs. Meanings

Here you are, with your core rulebooks, your expansion books, and a sheaf of online articles with options for your character. What do you do with them?

If you’re like me, you spend at least some time thinking about the differences between effects and meanings.

On Wednesday, Brendan pointed me to this entry of the Hack & Slash blog, “On the Failure of Tactical Combat.” Don’t let the title fool you; it’s really about associative vs. dissociative game effects. I’ve always examined those concepts under different labels that come from wargaming: design for cause (associative) and design for effect (dissociative). 

To paraphrase that blog (though I recommend you read it for yourself): design for cause says, “I want wizards to be able to throw balls of fire. What effect should a ball of fire have?” Design for effect says, “I want wizards to be able to cause destruction that fills volume X at distance Y, with a flame keyword. What could cause that?” In other words, associative design (for cause) begins with the desired cause and works forward to logical effects. Dissociative design (for effect) begins with the desired effect and works backward to a logical cause. Or, in extreme cases, doesn’t bother with causes at all.

In my experience, neither of these is exclusive; a designer probably favors one approach over the other, but both tend to operate simultaneously in a feedback loop. I’m more of a design-for-cause guy myself, but both are useful tools.

This notion relates to today’s topic: that rules have both effects and meanings. Dissociative designers focus on effects. Associative designers focus on meanings.

Effects usually are obvious. If my 4E mage casts ice storm, the effect is that he’ll inflict 2d8 + Int cold damage, immobilize the target, and create a 5 x 5 zone of difficult terrain.

Meanings are less obvious. What does it mean that my wizard casts ice storm? He might favor ice storm because he’s fascinated by fractal patterns in ice crystals. He might have come from a distant, frozen part of the world. The spell might symbolize his cold, uncaring heart.

Effects arise directly from the game’s rules. Meanings are attached by the players. The flavor text for ice storm provides a colorful description of the spell’s effect but says very little about the wizard who casts it.

Different players have completely different attitudes toward these dual aspects of a rule. Some select a character attribute (feat, power, weapon, even class or race) purely for its effect--they'll play a hunter because they want to have powerful ranged attacks, exert battlefield control, and have access to stances. I sometimes refer to such players as ruleplayers. That’s not derogatory; it’s a perfectly valid approach to the game. I’ve been a ruleplayer myself, when the game being played and the group’s taste lined up along that axis.

Other players are drawn purely to meanings--they'll play a hunter because they imagine themselves draped in earth tones, prowling silently through the forest with bow in hand, sowing confusion and fear through their enemies’ ranks. The fact that playing a hunter gives them access to the aspects of the lone wolf and the lurking spider is just another blossom on the trees. I lean mostly in this direction in RPGs.

What’s especially fascinating to me is the extent to which meanings can override effects. A case in point: my long-lived halfling ranger, Bigelow Smallpenny, a.k.a. Biggie Smalls. When Biggie was ready for an epic destiny, several stood out for the solid boosts they’d give to the character's most important attack modes. None of those, however, matched the story and personality I’d built up for Biggie over two+ years of play.

What did?--dark wanderer, one of the weakest, least tactically useful epic destinies in the game. If you looked at the character as a playing piece on a table, then dark wanderer contributed almost nothing on an encounter-by-encounter basis. If you looked at the character as an unfolding story, then dark wanderer contributed the vital element that completed the tale. Its effect was tiny, but its meaning was immense, and I weighted this decision heavily in favor of meaning.

Some readers may be thinking, “oh boy, here we go with the Stormwind fallacy all over again,” but that’s not the point at all. The point is that RPG rules have these dual faces, whether or not any specific individual personally values both of them. Biggie received plenty of level-ups chosen purely for their effects; both Biggie and I like hitting harder and faster as much as anyone. But when it came to the question of how Biggie would retire, I was ready and willing to toss Effect into the brazier so that the smoke of its burning might please the nostrils of Meaning.  

Biggie was retired from play more than a year ago, but occasionally I still imagine him roaming the countless planes of reality, traveling some existential Route 66 and aiding those in need like a dual ax-wielding Buz Murdock, until the last stars wink out of the sky.

What does any of that have to do with the theme of the week, revisions? Only this--if 4E teaches RPG designers anything, it’s that they need to be mindful of both effects and meanings. I think that 4E went overboard in focusing on effects at the expense of meanings.

Game rules in general don’t cause anything; they describe effects. You can’t predict the course of a chess game no matter how much you analyze the rules, and you can’t predict the life course of a D&D ranger no matter how much you optimize the builds.

But RPG players want to attach meanings to the rules. Few chess players will decline to capture the opponent’s queen with a rook when it would be so much more satisfying to capture her with the knight who is seeking revenge for the murder of his brother knight at her hands. That’s exactly what roleplayers do, however; it’s why they choose to play D&D instead of chess.

I don’t for a moment think that 4E somehow “removed the roleplaying” from D&D. Roleplaying is rooted in meanings, not effects, and players derive meanings for themselves. I do think that 4E’s rulebooks placed such heavy emphasis on effects that too many people lost focus on meanings. There was an assumption that players would naturally, instinctively bring their own meanings to the table without frequent reminders both subtle and blatant to do so.

The effects in 4E are legitimately fascinating in their own right. I get a huge thrill out of 4E’s tactical combat. It’s a richly satisfying Chuck Norris ballet of whoop-ass. But unless players inject meaning into the picture, it's just another tactical game.

There’s no denying that 4E contains as many meaning cues as previous editions; each power and spell has flavor text to trigger a mental image of the action. Yet somehow, the player’s urge to find meaning got washed away in the flood of effects. That’s an important lesson for any RPG rules writer.