Metagaming

A little while back I made a post regarding the “Roleplay Standards” that I hold and expect from other people. I’m really pleased with how the list turned out, but I want to use this post to expound on one of the items—something you’ll find in the rulebook of almost any RP site you’re visiting: Metagaming. The term is kind of clever sounding, but to break it down, you might define ‘meta’ as “a prefix added to the name of something that consciously references or comments upon its own subject or features.” In other words, Metagaming might be literally defined as the act of commentating on the functional properties of the “game” or “roleplay”. My understanding is the term originally gained a lot of use for tabletop games, but one way or another here it is, and it really is a helpful rule for a roleplay. The language I chose to use in my standards went something like this:

“The knowledge, emotions, and values of a writer are separate and different from that writer’s character. This distinction must never be compromised or confused.”

I stand behind that rhetoric pretty firmly, and I think it speaks for itself. For as seemingly obvious as it is, though, I think some people miss certain elements, and that’s what I want to talk about here.

Let’s go ahead and get the obvious stuff out of the way. If your character is in a far off land, isolated from the world, they shouldn’t be in-step with the latest news from home. Similarly, if two characters meet for the first time (or the tenth, even) just because you as the writer might have access to their character sheet, your character is not instantly enlightened. This sort of thing is what most people familiarize with as “Metagaming” in terms of roleplaying, and it is valid, but let’s kick it up a notch.

Between the writer and the character is a wall, and you can cross that wall going either direction when you metagame. In the instance of knowledge, it might be that the writer knows more than the character, but it might go the other direction too. A character could possess more knowledge about an individual (family member, famous person, etc.) than the writer inherently does; this is actually really relevant in roleplay, because another character might be a good friend from the history, but you’re still RPing with them for the very first time. I’ll take a moment here to emphasize the fact that some of the character sheet is fair game. Parts of the history (if they grew up together) may overlap and be relevant. The personality (if this isn’t the first time they’ve met) could give the characters a sense for each other, especially with surface level stuff like being friendly, eccentric, or so on. Generally speaking, the appearance should always be on the table, unless the writer specifies otherwise.

On another level, though, is the idea that your character knows more about something on a specific subject. I could be writing about a chemist, but I personally know only basic chemistry. As a writer, I have to be much more diligent about what I say and how I say it to keep the character intact and believable. There’s a talent to writing just enough so that it seems like you know what you’re talking about, but you keep the depth very shallow. After all, if you’re writing about a lawyer, (usually) you’re there primarily to tell a story, not to offer a discourse on law.

I understand there are exceptions to this depending on what sort of story you wish to tell, but what I’m fumbling around towards is this concept that I think people miss a lot. Especially with knowledge, there seems to be an unconscious assumption that your character needs to be a looking-glass into your own personal bank of knowledge. This gets problematic, though, because then your character being wrong means you are wrong, and we can’t have that now, can we? Be careful here. A lot of people like to claim a separation between them and their characters, and yet they simultaneously talk about how much in common they have with their characters. See the issue, here?

People are quick to enforce rules against metagaming because 1) the story might not make much sense but also 2) because there’s a lot of drama you can create by being very specific on what your character does and does not know. Some of the most compelling works of fiction involve a main character who agonizes and struggles through the story, and yet the reader knows the solution the entire time. This ties in handily with what I wrote about regarding characters making poor decisions or having generally unfortunate judgment. It makes the story seem much more alive. Take away this limitation, and things become sterile very quickly.

It’s not just limited to knowledge, though; emotions and values are on the table too. A writer has to tread very carefully here, because it’s a common mistake, especially with roleplay. In an ordinary piece of fiction, the author has full control and so it’s a little less relevant. However, in a roleplay it’s very possible that the other writer could introduce something that’s either appalling or attractive to you, but what about your character? How do they feel about it? The difference in response is what makes them unique and what is ultimately compelling about the story.

For some, they take it personally when others are mean to their character, treat them poorly, or despise their judgment. We might be quick to dismiss that person as a terrible writer, but what about the other direction? Some people, for escapist reasons, roleplay so that their character can be happy, because it makes them happy. This is the exact same thing, and it’s a problem for the exact same reasons. Even subtle things like someone writing a moody post because they had a bad day is scary. Or maybe they had a great day, and suddenly their character is way more considerate, patient, and kind. Most places wouldn’t call this metagaming, but the same veil is being pierced. The author is taking something from their world and putting it where it does not belong.

There’s still one more component. Values might be the most common of all to be pervasively overlooked. Just because you’re an enlightened progressive on issue XYZ doesn’t necessarily mean your character, who perhaps exists in an entirely different setting or time-frame, should share your values. When people complain that authors like Tolkien weren’t progressive enough with their gender roles, I want to roll my eyes—whether or not Tolkien had opinions regarding gender roles is completely irrelevant. The question that needs to be asked is whether or not it makes sense in the context of the rest of the universe.

I’ve no intention of making this post (or this blog, for that matter) an argument for social values, so I will use a relatively safe but impactful one as an example: racism. In a fantasy setting where groups may be constantly oppressed by another race or species, it is incredibly logical that people would be racist. It’s very easy for people to develop an “Us and them” mentality over the course of nearly any conflict, and it creates an excellent drive and mechanic to compel people into acting a certain way. You’re using it as a plot device, not necessarily a platform to espouse an ideology, and that’s more than fine. The ideals and values that you hold on the matter of race probably should be very different from someone in a fantastical setting, or even just someone from a different upbringing. Be realistic to the character and their universe and don’t apologize for it.

But there is the invariable truth that you write what you know. For this reason perhaps more than any other, the roleplayer has to be especially careful with what they write. It can feel incredibly easy for you and your character to mesh; how you view the situation becomes how your character views it. As your emotions rise and fall, theirs do too. The challenge becomes less about avoiding this entirely, as that maybe impossible, and more about controlling it and even being self-conscious.

I try to make a point on this blog to flesh out some of the differences between writing roleplay and other forms of more traditional narrative fiction, so here’s one: people read to experience something new, and people write to tell a story. There’s some overlap, but generally I think the goals of the two parties are different. It’s true that many writers will write to create something they would personally enjoy reading, but I don’t know that reading your own story is where the ultimate satisfaction comes from, by the end. For the roleplayer, though, this mixes! You’re experiencing the story, but you’re also writing it, because there’s more than one of you creating the arc. This means that, as a roleplayer, you’re simultaneously experiencing and narrating the story in a completely new way. It’s no wonder that many characters spawn, in the moment, as miniature slices of the author and their values, because they're giving and receiving in tandem. 

Roleplay is difficult, because you can only influence half of the story and its pieces, so you may not get to be so deliberate with how you set it all up. An objective case for the separation of writer and character may exist based on principle alone, but even just practically it makes for a far more interesting experience. Nothing is worse than tiptoeing around a roleplay because you’re worried something your character does will offend the other writer. Maybe that sounds ridiculous, but it happens all the time, consciously or not. If you’re constantly worried about the other roleplayer breaking this rule, it stops being worth the effort. Metagaming may be the single hardest trap to avoid in roleplay, but doing it successfully creates some of the most authentic and amazing writing experiences out there.