Board Game Criticism Day 2022: “Dilettantism prevents better board game reviews”
“Board game journalism lacks professionalism,” says spielbox editor-in-chief Andreas Becker. What’s the reason for this? And how could it change? Possible answers to these and other questions were provided by Becker in his talk, which opened the Day of Board Game Criticism 2022. A documentation for reading.
Dossier Spielejournalismus
This article is part of the Dossier Spielejournalismus. In this dossier, we document selected events, contributions and discussions from the history of games journalism.
Tag der Brettspielkritik
The Tag der Brettspielkritik is a meetup of board game journalists, bloggers, podcasters, YouTubers and content creators. The event is organised and initiated by the association “Spiel des Jahres”. Participants exchange ideas about board game reviews and reflect on their own actions. The Tag der Brettspielkritik has taken place so far in 1992 (then under a different name), 2019 and 2022. An extensive documentation of the past two events is available from “Spiel des Jahres”.
Opening talk by Andreas Becker on the occasion of the Tag der Brettspielkritik 2022
The Tag der Brettspielkritik 2019 – and the critic in me already flinches because it wasn’t just one day after all, and the title also slightly resembles one of those pseudo-awareness days like Block Flute Day (10 January) or German Open-Faced Sandwich Day on the last Friday in September; so in 2019, the first meetup took place in Hamburg, which raises the question: Has anything changed since then?
Maybe a little. It feels like the number of channels where people talk about board games has increased significantly since then. By now, the number of podcasts and YouTube channels alone is so large that even a full-time job wouldn’t be enough to read, listen to or watch everything that’s produced. This diversity is, at first glance, fantastic because it means there’s a lot to report about games and so many people are so passionate about playing that they also develop a sense of mission.
But it’s not about celebrating quantity; we need to work on quality. And in my view, there’s always room for improvement, especially if the postulate holds: “Board game criticism is part of cultural criticism” (quoted from Guido Heinecke, email dated 25 January this year, subject: Tag der Brettspielkritik 2022). This isn’t to say there’s nothing good out there. On the contrary, I feel well entertained and well informed in many formats I consume; I repeatedly read, see and hear pointed opinions. But very good board game criticism that can truly stand alongside literary, theatre, film, music and other cultural criticism: that’s rare. Very rare. I know I’m generalising and that there are individual players to whom I’m doing an injustice. I also read or hear individual reviews that are outstanding, and occasionally that happens. But I’ll put this thesis out there: firing the shotgun of meta-criticism at board game criticism hits the mark quite often.
“Cultural criticism must do more”
Why? Well, cultural criticism at its best isn’t just a bit of synopsis with a spicy conclusion; cultural criticism must do more. Of course, it also needs to describe what happens, what we experience – in other words, to paraphrase the rules and, in a slightly school-essay style, report on my most beautiful gaming experience – and it should do so in a stylistically brilliant way, ideally playful and witty, just like most games themselves.
Of course, the reader, listener or viewer expects an evaluation, a conclusion – and this should be well-founded based on what was previously discussed and not just boil down to a “thumbs up” or “thumbs down”. But this is often based on a mistaken belief. The belief – and here I quote Stephan Porombka – that
“(…) criticism is first and foremost about expressing one’s own opinion in the form of an assessment as a value judgement. This almost completely pushes the subject itself out of focus. The ‘I think’ or ‘I believe’ takes centre stage. And it’s usually unclear what is meant or intended by this ‘thinking’ and ‘believing’. The ‘thinking’ and ‘believing’ hangs in the air; it doesn’t refer to anything. But a ‘thinking’ and ‘believing’ that doesn’t refer to anything can just as well be omitted.”
Stephan Porombka: Kritiken schreiben. Ein Trainingsbuch, Konstanz 2006, S. 50
The added value of cultural criticism is precisely to go beyond this – beyond retelling, beyond thinking and believing – to provide analysis and background information, as well as to highlight parallels and connections to other (reference) works. And – this is the point at which cultural criticism can truly become great: it must place the subject of its consideration in the cultural context of its time.
But another aspect is also important: ideologically, the Tag der Brettspielkritik was born long before 2019, from a plea by Guido Heinecke on trictrac.de (some of the older readers may remember). It was a plea for a New Board Game Journalism; a term inspired by New Game Journalism, which meant that in reviews of video games, less emphasis should be placed on technical aspects and instead a new central question should be asked: What does a game do to me and my fellow players? How does the game feel? What are the factors that produce the fun? This is what needs to be explored.
With these two points in mind – placing the game in its cultural context and analysing the gaming experience – I have to admit that I still see room for improvement (and I’m explicitly pointing the finger at myself here). I believe that many players don’t actually see themselves as cultural critics. Perhaps because it feels too much like a feuilleton, too uncle-like, too stiff upper lip, and smells of West German educated bourgeois stuffiness. Still, I find it striking that many game reviews, in their chatty, authentic stance of “I think that…”, often have too much in common with average customer reviews on Amazon and don’t go beyond that.
It’s definitely worth investigating the causes.
- Thesis I: Perhaps the phenomenon described is simply due to the product itself – dice, card and board games – which are much less of a cultural asset than we like to claim, because at the end of the day they are primarily just economic or consumer goods. In feuilleton categories, the game might therefore be more U than E, i.e. a subject that, due to its lack of depth, eludes cultural criticism and is thus only suitable for product testing rather than a review.
- These II: But perhaps the phenomenon described is simply a method, because board game journalism, in large parts, correctly understands itself as exactly what journalism must also be: a service to the reader. And if the customer wants to quickly know whether something gets five stars or just three and a half, if readers, listeners or viewers demand exactly that – namely a product review – why on earth should you deliver anything else?
Which would mean: If that’s the consumer mindset, we can end here, because everything has been said.
Well, the very fact that there is a Day of Board Game Criticism shows at least that many actors probably see it differently – and hopefully we’re not just chasing our own chimera.
At least Harald Schrapers sees it differently. I’d like to briefly quote from his essay in spielbox #2/22, titled “Ich bin kein Spieletester!”. In it, Schrapers contradicts these two heretical, purely consumer-oriented product review theses. But as background, you should also know what Schrapers’ cultural asset theory is: The game, i.e. the product itself, is not the cultural asset, but the act of playing, the togetherness. So he wrote:
“The appeal of a game comes from very different sources – naturally from the mechanics, partly from external factors like the artwork, but above all from what happens between the players at the table. In this respect, the work of a board game critic is more comprehensive than that of a book or film reviewer. The latter can rely one hundred percent on their own subjective impressions. Board game criticism, on the other hand, can never arise without interaction with other people. Ideally, even with as many different player types as possible, and not just with the one group I’ve long since shaped to my own taste.”
Harald Schrapers, „Ich bin kein Spieletester!“, spielbox #2/22
This means: Serious and substantive board game criticism as part of cultural criticism is not only a craft and intellectual challenge, but also a logistical one.
And by the way, I believe there is definitely an audience for this kind of criticism. Although I can’t rule out that I’m wrong, because my job almost forces me to believe it. Or rather, because as a journalist, I genuinely want my readers to see it the same way I do.
Back to the question of why board game criticism in 2022 may still not have fully realised its potential.
- These III therefore goes: Perhaps the phenomenon described – that board game criticism struggles with the feel of the game and cultural context – is simply due to the convenience of the reviewers. It’s quicker to briefly summarise when you roll dice, when you draw cards or when you build a sawmill from two wood and one clay, and then conclude with “I think…” than to derive a cultural context. This is absolutely understandable, after all, only a tiny minority of board game reviewers don’t have a main job that pays the bills, allowing them to finance their board game hobby and reviews in the first place.
“Board game journalism lacks professionalism”
Moreover, I’m convinced that it’s the dilettantism of the scene that prevents better board game reviews from being produced. On the one hand, this is rather charming, as board game journalism also has something of a grassroots movement about it. On the other hand, it’s part of the problem. And since that might have sounded a bit harsh – because the term dilettante has a negative connotation in everyday language – I’d like to provide the actual definition: According to Duden, a dilettante is someone “who works in a certain field not as an expert, but merely out of enthusiasm” (even if, not only in this case, the boundaries with common usage are often fluid). In other words: Board game journalism simply lacks professionalism, which is hardly surprising given the earning potential – it’s dire.
Aside from the lack of time, it might also simply be down to something else: narcissism. Which, in journalism, is by no means a bad thing, mind you. I believe that many of this country’s outstanding journalists also display more or less pronounced narcissistic traits. But please don’t misunderstand: this is absolutely not about a pathological form, i.e. an illness listed as “Narcissistic Personality Disorder” in the ICD-10. It’s about the classic cultural studies interpretation of the term, traceable back to the figure of Narcissus in Greek mythology – a perfectly healthy dose of vanity or self-love.
What’s important here, above all, is that you channel your narcissism in the right way – in other words, sublimate it. If you don’t, if the narcissism is channelled incorrectly, it could end up with self-promotion taking centre stage and the work we’re actually supposed to be focusing on fading into the background. Nor does anyone do cultural criticism any favours by resorting to clickbait, whether it’s to jump on a hype or because the main motivation for a review is to be the first person to have played it. Breaking free from this, however, is difficult, after all, attention is one of the main currencies at stake.
All these hurdles on the path to truly excellent game criticism, which I’ve only briefly outlined here, won’t be overcome in a day and a half of board game criticism. But the fact that we’re talking about it is another step in the right direction. At the very least, it’s safe to assume that after this discussion, no one will be any less knowledgeable than before. Constantly reminding ourselves of what matters, what’s important and what might even be good is part of the lifelong learning process that every critic, male or female, inevitably has to go through.
“Journalism is so much more than reviews”
And with an eye to the future, I’d like to express one wish: Granted, criticism – whether good or bad – is currently the most visible and omnipresent form of expression in game journalism. But on the path to a true engagement with a cultural asset – whether it’s the game itself or the act of playing – something is still missing. Journalism is so much more than reviews. Fortunately, there are now many interviews (though unfortunately often only with the authors of good games, and not, for example, a conversation with Uwe Rosenberg about what on earth he was thinking with Tulpenfieber – but never mind). There are also repeated profiles of authors and publishers that provide insights into production realities. Good. And there are now many opinion pieces dealing with so-called meta-topics. Unfortunately, all of this is still far too rarely bundled together, but rather served up in small portions here and there. Even more regrettably, journalistic pieces on major important topics – explored from multiple perspectives by different interlocutors and then well-curated and written or presented with flair by an author – are still too often missing. Not to mention investigative journalism.
Yes, all of this means a lot of effort. Yes, it’s hard to implement all of this in every format as a hobby project. But I’m convinced that the still weak external impact of all our efforts – including reaching people outside the bubble (even if it’s just other multipliers from other media houses) – is partly due to the fact that the board game scene too rarely tells relevant stories. And that’s why I’d like to see, perhaps one day, Days of Board Game Journalism that open up even more than this weekend already does to all journalistic forms.