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yeahjukesWhile at GDC, I picked up the new and revised second edition of a book I've been meaning to read for a while, that being Jon Peterson's Playing at the World. It's an in-depth investigation into the history of Dungeons and Dragons and the practices that led to its creation, as well as the many things that resulted from its success. Though I tend towards video games far more than I do tabletop (such as board and card, though occasionally ttrpg), it is undeniably important to know this history. Dungeons and Dragons, after all, laid the groundwork for common conventions of many video games, such as experience points and leveling up. (Disclaimer: this was not an intelligent singular thought and was, in fact, stolen from the preface.) The history is also scattered in terms of materials and documentation, which the information scientist in the back of my head is severely drawn in by.
In this series, I'll be writing alongside my reading of Playing at the World 2E V1 because it's fun and it's a means through which to consolidate my many thoughts on this subject. That, and it's a good excuse to make a blog post.
Before I get into the actual content, I'd like to highlight how transparent the introduction is about the process behind writing the original version of PatW and eventually 2E. That Peterson himself had to collect many of his own references and materials to draw upon, and acknowledging that critical history was missed the first go around. Many of these nonfiction authors are archivists in their own right, gathering and redefining materials nobody had proper reason to care about previously. Consider all the countless copies of fanzines that have been lost to time, each with the potential to completely reframe the story. PatW concerns itself with histories within the 60s and 70s. Many of the people who made these histories are now deceased (Gygax and Arneson, among many others). Consider how many stories go untold and unkept because nobody had current reason to maintain them. A bit of a pointless tangent, but one that sincerely fascinates me every day.
The bulk of the book begins with the first tangible movement that lead to what D&D would become: wargames. Tactics, the first modern board wargame, released in 1954. From it, cultures and communities arose, surely but surely. In the place of the internet that would have, in our time, immediately connected players across the nation, success was an early struggle. The Avalon Hill Game Company--Tactics' creator and publisher--lacked the funding for widespread marketing, and the game was far from accessible. This niche hobby spread at first through local channels, then later through publication, which had much more reach. The Avalon Hill General, Avalon Hill's own magazine, came to connect players nationwide through its "Opponents Wanted" section.
"Opponents Wanted" was a public posting board where subscribers could scout for opponents. Since the hobby was still fairly niche, players would either have to travel some ways to compete or play over mail (which, as you might guess, had the potential to be wildly inaccurate and slow). But mere awareness led to a desire for more stability within this burgeoning fandom. And so, the clubs--or, more appropriately, factions--began to form.
We must consider the political and demographic climate of such moves. This was only two or so decades following the end of WWII, a global devastation out from which the US undoubtedly prospered, especially in terms of international rapport. The average American populace held very little of a place in the affairs of WWII. This also came in the throes of the American Civil Rights movement. Take a bunch of white American men--many of whom were quite young--and involve them in a community based upon simulated wartime action, often based on real-world events, in this critical historical context, and guess how things evolved from there.
Players formed clubs, and with these fictional "factions" established came plenty of inspiration for "roleplay." Newfound east-coast club SPECTRE (Special Efficacy for Counter-Intelligence, Revenge and Extermination) called for members to take up fictional arms for the sake of regional unity. Together, they would overtake many smaller regional clubs and expand their "territory." While this surely began as simple jest, it became a breeding ground for obvious poor-taste moves and some of the earliest involvement of genuine roleplay in these circles. It was still a game, sure, but one where players took on the names of real-life generals from these very much historical battles and used them to wage war, often in the name of the real battle's cause. Civil War-based games became a distressingly unclear field of "come and serve the Confederacy" in the midst of the extremely current battle for black American rights. This quickly became a situation that fell sort of out of the General's ability to manage, their players having taken on momentum of their own, though not for lack of some public denouncement in-issue.
This whole debacle brought me back around to the idea of nationwide clubs in general and how their mere structure serves to elevate only the most privileged of parties. The most obvious example of this is of course fraternities, which have existed in the US since the year of its independence. These groups were of course initially entirely white and male dominated, and though the game has changed in many ways for college fraternities in the >2 centuries since, much of those early mentalities still linger in my opinion. I am incredibly intrigued by the inexplicable allure of traditions like hazing: activities that serve as violent indoctrination into groups that stand for... what, exactly? For the modern fraternity, that looks like the simple sake of unity and brotherhood, but for these early wargaming clubs that stood upon more widespread regional ground, their practices held even more political significance. That's not to say that these wargaming clubs were exactly like modern-day fraternities by any means. I don't know all the details of what fraternities were like in 1776, and it doesn't take a genius to tell you institutions like those have the tendency to get dangerous quick. No, 1960s wargaming clubs were not inherently bad. But, they were an extraordinary breeding ground for extremely corrupt activity, and I think it's interesting to consider the qualities that make it that way.
When you are backed by a large group of people with the same common interest and the same demographic as oneself, it's impressively easy to get out of hand. By today's standards, it's deplorable how loud and widespread the public denouncement of female wargamers was at this time, and even leading into the 70s. Ideas of what makes for a "male" hobby are only perpetuated by the male players that intentionally bully women out of their spaces because it's not a dynamic they ever thought they'd have to confront. In that way, these groups are predicated upon privilege, aversion to discomfort, and the massively alluring urge to use the former to run from the latter. And of course the only demographic with the resources and wider social structure to back these habits up is that of the cis, straight, white, American male.
The practice of wargames is so much more than this issue, obviously, but in this time (the 60s) it was a major issue: the true breadth of which might only be reflected upon in full severity in the decades following. This history of privilege is in inalienable component of D&D's legacy as a whole. We see many aspects of it present even to this day, over 50 years following its initial release. Serious discussion surrounding games has a tendency to not be taken as seriously to the general public, as games are "make-believe" and thus "not serious" or "not relevant to real life." But the more we examine them and the histories that lead to, and result from, their creations, the more we see that it is the exact opposite. Interactive media defines our world, taking our pre-existing engagement with it and twisting it into something new and interesting. Many will (I hope) come to see this more and more in the coming years as games scholarship continues to expand. You definitely will, given how long you have already let me yap into your ear about it.
Note: This post was written continuously in a single setting and was not reviewed, edited, or spellchecked. Any errors are due to me being a little too silly with it. Author hopes such transgressions may be forgiven.
In this series, I'll be writing alongside my reading of Playing at the World 2E V1 because it's fun and it's a means through which to consolidate my many thoughts on this subject. That, and it's a good excuse to make a blog post.
Before I get into the actual content, I'd like to highlight how transparent the introduction is about the process behind writing the original version of PatW and eventually 2E. That Peterson himself had to collect many of his own references and materials to draw upon, and acknowledging that critical history was missed the first go around. Many of these nonfiction authors are archivists in their own right, gathering and redefining materials nobody had proper reason to care about previously. Consider all the countless copies of fanzines that have been lost to time, each with the potential to completely reframe the story. PatW concerns itself with histories within the 60s and 70s. Many of the people who made these histories are now deceased (Gygax and Arneson, among many others). Consider how many stories go untold and unkept because nobody had current reason to maintain them. A bit of a pointless tangent, but one that sincerely fascinates me every day.
The bulk of the book begins with the first tangible movement that lead to what D&D would become: wargames. Tactics, the first modern board wargame, released in 1954. From it, cultures and communities arose, surely but surely. In the place of the internet that would have, in our time, immediately connected players across the nation, success was an early struggle. The Avalon Hill Game Company--Tactics' creator and publisher--lacked the funding for widespread marketing, and the game was far from accessible. This niche hobby spread at first through local channels, then later through publication, which had much more reach. The Avalon Hill General, Avalon Hill's own magazine, came to connect players nationwide through its "Opponents Wanted" section.
"Opponents Wanted" was a public posting board where subscribers could scout for opponents. Since the hobby was still fairly niche, players would either have to travel some ways to compete or play over mail (which, as you might guess, had the potential to be wildly inaccurate and slow). But mere awareness led to a desire for more stability within this burgeoning fandom. And so, the clubs--or, more appropriately, factions--began to form.
We must consider the political and demographic climate of such moves. This was only two or so decades following the end of WWII, a global devastation out from which the US undoubtedly prospered, especially in terms of international rapport. The average American populace held very little of a place in the affairs of WWII. This also came in the throes of the American Civil Rights movement. Take a bunch of white American men--many of whom were quite young--and involve them in a community based upon simulated wartime action, often based on real-world events, in this critical historical context, and guess how things evolved from there.
Players formed clubs, and with these fictional "factions" established came plenty of inspiration for "roleplay." Newfound east-coast club SPECTRE (Special Efficacy for Counter-Intelligence, Revenge and Extermination) called for members to take up fictional arms for the sake of regional unity. Together, they would overtake many smaller regional clubs and expand their "territory." While this surely began as simple jest, it became a breeding ground for obvious poor-taste moves and some of the earliest involvement of genuine roleplay in these circles. It was still a game, sure, but one where players took on the names of real-life generals from these very much historical battles and used them to wage war, often in the name of the real battle's cause. Civil War-based games became a distressingly unclear field of "come and serve the Confederacy" in the midst of the extremely current battle for black American rights. This quickly became a situation that fell sort of out of the General's ability to manage, their players having taken on momentum of their own, though not for lack of some public denouncement in-issue.
This whole debacle brought me back around to the idea of nationwide clubs in general and how their mere structure serves to elevate only the most privileged of parties. The most obvious example of this is of course fraternities, which have existed in the US since the year of its independence. These groups were of course initially entirely white and male dominated, and though the game has changed in many ways for college fraternities in the >2 centuries since, much of those early mentalities still linger in my opinion. I am incredibly intrigued by the inexplicable allure of traditions like hazing: activities that serve as violent indoctrination into groups that stand for... what, exactly? For the modern fraternity, that looks like the simple sake of unity and brotherhood, but for these early wargaming clubs that stood upon more widespread regional ground, their practices held even more political significance. That's not to say that these wargaming clubs were exactly like modern-day fraternities by any means. I don't know all the details of what fraternities were like in 1776, and it doesn't take a genius to tell you institutions like those have the tendency to get dangerous quick. No, 1960s wargaming clubs were not inherently bad. But, they were an extraordinary breeding ground for extremely corrupt activity, and I think it's interesting to consider the qualities that make it that way.
When you are backed by a large group of people with the same common interest and the same demographic as oneself, it's impressively easy to get out of hand. By today's standards, it's deplorable how loud and widespread the public denouncement of female wargamers was at this time, and even leading into the 70s. Ideas of what makes for a "male" hobby are only perpetuated by the male players that intentionally bully women out of their spaces because it's not a dynamic they ever thought they'd have to confront. In that way, these groups are predicated upon privilege, aversion to discomfort, and the massively alluring urge to use the former to run from the latter. And of course the only demographic with the resources and wider social structure to back these habits up is that of the cis, straight, white, American male.
The practice of wargames is so much more than this issue, obviously, but in this time (the 60s) it was a major issue: the true breadth of which might only be reflected upon in full severity in the decades following. This history of privilege is in inalienable component of D&D's legacy as a whole. We see many aspects of it present even to this day, over 50 years following its initial release. Serious discussion surrounding games has a tendency to not be taken as seriously to the general public, as games are "make-believe" and thus "not serious" or "not relevant to real life." But the more we examine them and the histories that lead to, and result from, their creations, the more we see that it is the exact opposite. Interactive media defines our world, taking our pre-existing engagement with it and twisting it into something new and interesting. Many will (I hope) come to see this more and more in the coming years as games scholarship continues to expand. You definitely will, given how long you have already let me yap into your ear about it.
Note: This post was written continuously in a single setting and was not reviewed, edited, or spellchecked. Any errors are due to me being a little too silly with it. Author hopes such transgressions may be forgiven.
no subject
Date: 2026-03-18 03:31 am (UTC)Also +1 to the 'its just games' thing, that rhetoric makes it very easy for the public to overlook where these kinds of supremacist movements are growing & organizing, since they tend to do so in the fringes at first.
no subject
Date: 2026-03-18 03:59 pm (UTC)