Designers will be all over the map in terms of whether they intend to “create innovation and timelessness” or whether they’re designing for their next meal. Every creative profession has members in both camps, and I’d argue that every creative professional travels from one camp to the other depending on all sorts of factors. When I write for a business client, I deliver informative prose that’s still enjoyable to read, but I don’t expect a piece on the analog-to-digital cable transition to last longer than the month it’s available to readers. Columns, reviews, and other pieces for BGN – in addition to my short stories – are written with a longer perspective, ideally providing material that will make sense and be valuable and interesting whenever someone reads it. They express an idea that had value for me when I wrote about it, and if I do my job well, some part of that idea will resonate with readers, too.

Strangely enough, Matt, you might not be the fox that you think you are, given this line from your opening paragraph: “I’ve become very fond of repeating a certain mantra about what constitutes a workable design goal and what doesn’t...” That sounds pretty hedgehog-ian to me!

Perhaps this is the time for that old chestnut – There are two types of people in this world: those who think that people can’t be easily categorized, and those who think that there are two types of people in this world. While I appreciate the appeal of categorizing people (and have an upcoming column that does just that), I find such classifications false and self-limiting. People are always broader and more diverse than you think they are. (Of course that might just be the fox in me, not believing that the world can be described in simple terms!)

Eric

An interesting column as usual, Matt, and you shouldn’t be concerned about writing a shorter piece (sometimes, that’s all you have to say and the brevity is appreciated).  But I find I disagree with much of it, possibly due to our different takes on gaming and possibly due to my mistrust of any book that tries to distill something as complex as business management to three principles (which I guess makes me a Fox).

First, if I had to choose, I’d feel more comfortable with the designer who sets out to make a 90 minute game than one who sets out to make a game that ties strongly to Ancient Rome.  The former is merely a restriction, no doubt one of dozens that any creative person will set for themselves (without such restrictions, how could you possibly choose between all the choices in front of you?).  I’d feel even better if this designer said, “This game idea won’t work for Game X, because I can’t execute it in 90 minutes, so let me save it for another project, where I’m willing to make a longer game.” There’s lots of good designers today who work just like that, so I think that’s a reasonable thing to hope for.  Focusing on a specific theme, though, can lead to trouble.  It *might* give you a great game with a truly consolidated theme.  But I think it’s more likely to yield something where the mechanics are either showhorned into this theme or something where all the trappings are there, but the game itself is lacking.  As an amateur designer myself, who communicates with other designers, both amateur and professional, I see this temptation occur all the time.  Without sound and interesting mechanics, a strong theme is worthless (and can even be counter-productive).

Next, Rule 1.  Yes, you need to be passionate.  But probably the most useful thing to be passionate about is games and, specifically, creating games.  Coming up with a good game is indeed a very difficult and time consuming thing, which is pretty much why I don’t really try to do it anymore.  So you need that inner drive to keep yourself going.  But I don’t think it needs to be more focused than that.  I’m frankly surprised at how many people do have this desire to create and who are willing to put in the long hours to come up with a polished product.  And with most of them, that’s the limit of their passion.  But it seems to work, as I see lots of very good games from these folks, running the gamut over many different themes and design areas.

I also disagree, at least mildly, with Rule 2.  If you can come up with something new or something that few others have attempted, that’s all the better.  But it’s also possible to take an oft-used theme and borrowed mechanics, and combine them in a new way (or just do a really good job of balancing them), so that the final product is a superior game.  I love innovative ideas, but I also recognize that you don’t always have to be innovative in order to be great.

My problems with Rule 3 are related to my difficulties with the other rules.  Your main premise is basically that a single focus is best when creating a game and the Fox in me rebels at this.  It also contradicts both my experiences and those of my game designer friends who I talk to.  How could a single measure give me what I need?  I think I need to have many measures and many goals that need to be met.  That’s one of the things that makes it hard.  I can possibly see a single goal working for a game, but in general, a more nuanced approach will have a much better chance of succeeding.

Not surprisingly, I also feel the Fox stands a better chance than the Hedgehog in coming up with a good game.  Yes, it took a Hedgehog to come up with Magic: the Gathering or D&D or any other game that changed the world.  (Actually, if you read about the design process with those games, I’m not even sure that’s true.) But games like those are few and far between.  Wolfgang Kramer has said that he would love to come up with such an idea and he’s only been trying for 35 years.  But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t created numerous brilliant designs in the interim.  Plus, you can look at other seminal games, like 18xx or Civilization, which are undoubtedly the product of a Fox’s mind.  I would say the person who recognizes that game design, like almost any other creative activity, is a complex and many-faceted process, stands a much better chance of succeeding than the person who seeks that one powerful idea that may never come.  Even if the Hedgehog does come up with his lightening strike, he’ll need to be able to execute it, and I suspect he’ll need Fox-like skills in order to do that best.

Where does “make a quality game” come in there? How about “do adequate playtesting” and “hire a developer”? It seems to me most American game companies who could use the help don’t fall down on the big picture stuff; they know what they like, they know what they’re good at, and they probably have some goals. Both GMT and Fantasy Flight for example are pretty solid on all these three bases. But they often do no or incompetent game development, and as a consequence have turned out quite a few atrocious games. You can survive on that in the American market these days, but that won’t last forever.

Thanks for another interesting article, Matt. In the business context, I’ve seen the fox and hedgehog concept applied in a slightly different way than you’ve described. In the business literature, the story seems to be that the fox, in Wile E. Coyote fashion, keeps coming up with one elaborate strategy after another to try to get the hedgehog. Meanwhile, the hedgehog, who was never a mental powerhouse, has only one strategy that he keeps using over and over: roll himself into a ball with his spines sticking out any time he sees the fox. Time and again the fox fails. The moral: find your core principle and stick with it. The applications get more nuanced, but the basic premise is about that simple.

For businesses, the concept makes a reasonably helpful antidote to mission creep, and there is some interesting data to support the argument that businesses that stick to what they are good at outperform businesses that are constantly diversifying. In the game design space, though, I’m not sure how it would translate.

It doesn’t seem like it would be helpful in the initial creative phase, but it does seem like it might be useful when it comes to resisting the temptation to add “just one more thing” to the basic design once the central ideas are worked out. Certainly we’ve all played games that suffer from having too many disparate ideas crammed into one game. And on the flip side, part of the joy of a Knizia design is that he seems to be a master of elaborating a core concept while paring away everything else.

I always enjoy articles that cross-pollinate between fields. Even if the concepts from one field don’t translate well to another, the exercise is often very thought provoking. Thanks again!

I like playing a lot of different games and the thought of playing the same game the number of times that playtesters must do . . . designing a game doesn’t sound like much fun anymore.

Jacob Lee, but that IS the fun!

Playing the game differently each time trying to find problems with it. Getting feedback from different players and new ideas to implement. Reshaping the game and constantly improving it.

I know what you mean, Jacob, as I’m a big fan of variety.  The nice thing about designing (especially if you tend to be more of the “fox” as I am) is that there’s no time pressure (as long as you’re not designing for your next meal, of course).  If you’ve had enough of one prototype for awhile, or you’ve hit a wall with the design, you just put it to the side for awhile and work on something else.  Of course, if your the extreme hedgehog, according to Matt, you’re more apt to stick with one thing and keep plugging until it works or you run out of gas.

Not surprisingly, I don’t like categorizations either, although they are sometimes useful or even humorous in discussions like these.

Yes, I’d echo Chris Farrell’s point here - if game design is an art, then it’s not something like painting but is more like a more complex form of writing: the process doesn’t just involve the author, but also the editor (and even beta-readers and, at a later point, the graphic designer.) Games are very rarely the unique product of the person whose name (sometimes) ends up on the box.

In other words, I’m not sure it’s actually relevant into which pseudo-category the “designer” can be put when it comes to the success or otherwise of the final product.