Two Philosophies: Making Ice-Cream at the Table

After reading a lot of discussionon on this issue, I have to revise my thinking a little. It’s a somewhat hairy topic.

The first big thing to realize, I think, is that "Design What Matters" and "Design What Doesn’t Matter" are not alternate philosophies of game system design. DWDoesn’tM ignores key aspects of system and really doesn’t look at RPing at that level: it doesn’t anticipate that its product will provide system. Rather, its products provide mechanical bits…without much method for using them and certainly without rules that help players create larger "structure" or address a creative agenda.


Conversely, DWMatters is very concerned with providing entire systems—or at least much more of them—and thereby helping players address a creative agenda.

DWDoesn’tM is not about creating complete systems, it’s about creating toolkits. Consumers then use these to create system on the fly. On the other hand, as a result of DWMatters, we have complete systems as products, which can be played straight "out of the box."

Of course, the problem historically is that a lot of products have purported to offer everything you need to play, but in fact have fallen toward the toolkit end of the spectrum. What’s more, none of us consumers realized the difference. So we built systems around these toolkits and that’s just the way things were. That a gaming product could actually offer a system was just not on the radar. Now that we do know the difference, let’s be sure not to step back the clock and call toolkits complete games.

There’s also an entirely separate issue of focus in game design. Some designs are narrow and only do one thing (but usually do it very well), like Dogs in the Vineyard. Others are more open, like The Pool. Complete systems, produced via "Design What Matters," can be focused or unfocused, and so can toolkits, though their focus/unfocus is of a different kind.


So where does this leave my favorite metaphor?

In a far-away land there is a factory that produces cream, ice, chocolate flavoring, and mix-ins: all the ingredients for (chocolate) ice-cream. They sell these things in nice containers and people over the hill buy them. These people get together to eat ice-cream, just like me, but they don’t leave their hand-churns at home: no, they take them to the table, crack upen their box of ingredients, and make the stuff right there. (One person may do everything himself or multiple people may work together.) This can work great but often the ice melts or people accidentally bring different things, so the ice-cream isn’t quite satisfying—or falls apart completely.

Where am I? I’m still in my shack, selling weird ice-cream. People can eat it right out of the bag though, which I think is good. And while I still use a hand-churn, just like everyone, I’m very choosy about my ingredients, take care in what I’m doing, and discuss the craft a lot. Most people? They don’t have time for all that. And if they happen to hit on a good way to mix up those ingredients, they’re usually pretty happy and stick with it. I can’t blame them: they’ve suffered through plenty of bad ice-cream in the past.

I’m still sick of chocolate, but I’m even more sick of trying to making ice-cream at the table.

Mar 18, 2006 | Filed in design | Tagged: ,