The Conversation: Social Bondage & Discipline in RPGs
"You probably know this already: roleplaying is a conversation. You and the other players go back and forth, talking about these fictional characters in their fictional circumstances doing whatever it is that they do. Like any conversation, you take turns, but it's not like taking turns, right? Sometimes you talk over each other, interrupt, build on each others' ideas, monopolize and hold forth. All fine.
"These rules mediate the conversation. They kick in when someone says some particular things, and they impose constraints on what everyone should say after. Makes sense, right?"
-Vincent & Meguey Baker
I: Verbs
Verbs in RPGs are... weird. Right?
Like. Video games. In a video game, a Verb is defined positively. That is, the only ways you can interact with the software are those which were explicitly programmed in by the developers. The ludic space of the game is a void; a negative space, and Verbs are discrete units of interaction carved into that space. This... isn't how Verbs work in TRP. It's actually pretty alien to the dynamic at the table, isn't it?
Okay, then what about sports?. In a sport like, say, Association Football, Verbs are defined negatively. A Soccer player can, hypothetically, do anything that a human body is capable of in service of the game's win-state. But, through codified social/legal consensus and enforcement by a hypothetically neutral third party (the referee), the things players are allowed to do in service of that goal are quite severely limited. There are the specifics - no hands on the ball unless you're a goalie - but there are also a lot of agreed upon restrictions that, as far as I'm aware at least, aren't written down in any rules text. For example, a disallowance of firearms on the playing field.
This feels a lot more familiar to the procedure of play in an RPG. Just as a soccer player has, at the outset, the entire human body's range of motion and activity at their disposal to pursue the goal of their game, so too does a player at the table have the entire space of human language (and para-linguistic communication) with which to express that all-important statement of intent. The game's Verbs, then, exist to restrict how that stated fictional act is allowed to take place, and the consequences it can have on the larger shared fiction of play.
II: But This isn't Sports
There's a key difference between RPGs and Soccer, isn't there? That being, the win-state itself.
Much more eloquent and educated ink than mine has been spilled on the philosophical presence (or lack thereof) of a win-state in RPGs, and I won't get into it here. The relevant thing is that a roleplaying game is not played in pursuit of a game-ending win-state. Rather, we are intrinsically motivated to play RPGs. We play them for the pleasure we get from the act of playing, whether it be literally voicing a character, or the more tactical roleplay of something more focused on problem-solving. That casts in a different light the presence of a set of rules which occasionally steps in to restrict our agency.
A Verb in a TRPG is a special thing: it responds to something somebody said, and it restricts them. It says, "since you said what you did, I'm going to bind you. Tie you up. Let's see how you squirm."
In other words, a rulebook is a pair of handcuffs.
III: So Wear Them
You don't buy a pair of cuffs to not wear them. They exist to be worn; to be placed upon you by someone who you have entrusted with power over your mobility, because you enjoy the sensation of being restrained. You like how the binding of your hands alters how you interface with the world, and with the person who put them on you - both in terms of how it limits you, and how you adapt to those limitations. It's play as a restriction of agency.
So wear your handcuffs! Use them for their intended purpose. When a game gives you a limitation, lean into it. Let the rules Bind and Discipline you. Sit with the feeling of the leather or metal or rope on your wrists; what is there to love in this restriction? What new and exciting things can you learn about your play partners when you tie each other up?
Footnote 1: Hey, Isn't This Just that Jay Dragon Article Again?
Yes, it is! And boy, let me tell you how stoked I was when I first read it and realized that Jay G-ddamn Dragon, author of my all-time favorite game, was already out there advocating for this framework before I had worked up the courage to start blogging about it. It made me feel smart like you wouldn't believe.
If you haven't already, you should read the article in question. It's called "The Rules are a Cage, and I'm a Puppygirl," and it outlines the thesis of this post in Jay's trademark style. It's damn good.
Footnote 2: So Why Are You Writing This?
Simple! Jay's article treats kink and TRP as analagous; I want to treat them as synonymous. I of course couldn't tell you Jay's attitude towards treating the hobby writ large as a kind of BDSM (although I would be thrilled to find out, if she were inclined to speak on it), but I think that my rhetorical goals are distinct enough, and that I have enough new things to say on the subject, that it's worth doing more than just dedicating an entire post to "Read Jay's Work."
Plus, I'm going, like, a whole thing where I take each of the initials from the BDSM acronym (Bondage/Discipine, Dominance/Submission, Sadism/Masochism) and write a bespoke post about how the show up in this hobby in order to lay the foundations for the thesis of this blog. It'd feel kind of half-assed if I spent who knows how long putting out devlogs and play diaries and the like with my entire philosophical underpinning just sort of implied.