In my last post, I made reference to the “Magic Circle,” but didn’t explain it. It’s the idea that you don’t let game strategy influence nor be influenced by things that happen outside of the game. Or maybe you could say, “What happens on Catan stays on Catan.”
I don’t remember where I first heard of this idea of the Magic Circle. Maybe it was in a podcast, maybe it was from another gaming friend. Wherever it came from, it heavily reinforced for me an idea I had already held but never articulated. I adhere to it because it protects what to me makes games unique.
When I play a game, I usually play to win. That doesn’t mean that my enjoyment depends on whether I win, but most games play best and are most enjoyable for me when everyone single-mindedly seeks to achieve the objective set out for them. Sometimes, this means you have to do things that, outside the context of a game, would seem really mean. Like ganging up on somebody because they have the lead, or picking on someone much weaker than you because they have something you need in order to win.
As long as the game doesn’t have any stakes, I don’t see a problem with being “mean” in a game, because no one loses anything except the game. But this only works if everyone agrees that what happens in the game won’t affect their personal relationships with the other players, because once someone has hurt feelings because their significant other betrayed their treaty, now there are stakes, and you can’t play “mean” anymore because you’re afraid of sleeping on the couch tonight.
So it’s as if each game exists within a Magic Circle, a barrier that nothing passes through in either direction (except people, I suppose, but not their relationships). It may be violent and chaotic and cutthroat inside the Circle while the game is going on, but when the game ends and the players leave the Circle, life is still normal. Or things may be terrible outside the Circle, and you come inside to escape all of that for a while.
The philosophy of the Magic Circle supports a larger purpose of games, to provide an explicit structure that normal social interaction lacks. While you’re playing a game, I know (ideally) what everyone else wants: to win. I may not know how they’ll achieve that, nor even their win conditions (as with secret roles games), but at least that’s a known unknown. Games don’t have secret rules.
At the risk of sounding a little antisocial, I’ll admit that it can be a source of anxiety feeling like people want something every time they interact with me, but I don’t always know what it is, or that there are certain unspoken rules about how I should interact with somebody. Sometimes I don’t know these things because the other person doesn’t know either, at least not explicitly. But games tell each person what they want and what the rules are for getting it. For example, you want the humans to win while the difference between these two resource values is two or less, and here are the things you can do on your turn.
Ah, what a relief. Now I just have to make that happen, and fuck everything else please for the next couple of hours while I do.
I enjoyed this post and topic. It reminded me of a (good) gaming friend of mine.
This friend forgets about the magic circle the moment someone in a non-cooperative game makes a targeted effort to better their position at the expense of his position. We were playing the Game of Thrones (GoT) strategy game, and the moment someone betrayed him his demeanor just became unpleasant and aggressively… pouty? This made the game not fun for anyone at the table at that point, leaving us to awkwardly finish with a mostly unwilling participant making irrational decisions that affected everyone else’s victory chances. Our game group no longer plays that game, unfortunately.
In another instance, we were playing Dead of Winter with three players. At the beginning of the game a tiny deck of cards with only seven cards is formed; one of these cards makes the drawer a betrayer, and six of them make them a “cooperative” player with everyone else who is not a betrayer. Each of the three players draws one of these cards and keeps it secret from the other players. This leaves a 3/7 chance that there is a betrayer in the group.
This same friend (from the previous paragraph) drew a betrayer card but decided to ignore it completely, instead helping the team towards their cooperative victory goal. At the end when everyone won, he revealed his betrayer secret victory objective and declared that the team won, so he didn’t care that he lost. He said that he always saw the betrayer win whenever there was a betrayer, and just wanted to see the team win. (Note: The most recent time we played this same board game, this same friend was the betrayer again, actually attempted to play the role… and lost against my other friend me.)
This was a different kind of disappointment for me than that which I experienced playing GoT with the same friend a few years prior. While his ignoring the magic circle (in a way) didn’t harm me during the game, it cheapened the experience for me after the fact. I’d like to earn my victory the hard way, and not achieve it because my co-player made a conscious decision to play sub-optimally.
Thanks for the relevant, thoughtful post Gibbsey.