TTRPG Culture Today: Are We Losing What Made It Great
A Culture of Acceptance—But at What Cost?
Today’s tabletop RPG (TTRPG) culture is more welcoming and inclusive than ever before. That’s a great thing. This openness has made space for more players from all backgrounds to find community and creativity around the table. But somewhere along the way, it feels like we’ve become so afraid of upsetting anyone that we’ve forgotten one of the most powerful functions of the hobby: to challenge us
TTRPGs have always been a place to safely explore ideas, emotions, and scenarios outside the bounds of everyday life. Lately, however, it seems like some corners of the community and some publishers are so focused on avoiding discomfort that they risk stripping away the very depth and weight that make roleplaying so transformative.
A Brief Look Back: TTRPGs Were Built to Push Boundaries
When Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson created Dungeons & Dragons in 1974, they weren’t just designing a game of fantasy combat. They were creating a structure through which Game Masters (GMs) could present players with situations that tested their morals, their courage, their decision-making, and their philosophies. The game invited players to explore paths that real life would never allow.
Back then, D&D quickly became a cultural lightning rod. Critics—particularly from religious groups—decried it as dangerous. But the fear wasn’t really about demons or dragons. Anyone familiar with the game knows that D&D is no more a threat to a person’s beliefs than a book on Greek mythology. What those critics feared was that the game gave people permission to think freely, challenge norms, and question systems.
Consent and Ground Rules: The Foundation of Meaningful Play
Before going further, let me be clear: I support the modern emphasis on safety, consent, and communication. Players should absolutely talk before a campaign starts about what kinds of themes are appropriate and what boundaries should be respected. No one should be forced to relive trauma or be blindsided by content that harms them emotionally.
Tools like the X-card, Lines and Veils, and session zero agreements are essential. But they shouldn’t be used to remove all tension or discomfort from a game. They should create a shared understanding of what kinds of intense or difficult content are acceptable—and then allow the group to dive into those experiences together.
The Power of Roleplay: Why Conflict, Loss, and Challenge Matter
The beauty of TTRPGs is that they allow us to safely inhabit other lives. When a player is faced with a moral dilemma, a devastating betrayal, or even the death of their character, it can feel profoundly real in the moment. And that’s the point. Those experiences stick with us. They help us think more deeply about our values, our relationships, and our responses to hardship.
There’s a reason psychologists use roleplay techniques in therapy. Fictional scenarios can unlock real emotional insight. By shielding players from all hardship in the name of comfort, we lose one of the most powerful benefits of the game.
When stakes are removed, the story flattens. Consequences matter—not to punish players, but to help them grow, even if only through fiction. Risk makes a game meaningful. Without danger, victory is hollow. Without loss, connection fades. Characters should suffer setbacks, question their morality, and occasionally lose. These moments add texture to the narrative and depth to the players’ investment.
Challenge in TTRPGs isn’t about cruelty—it’s about catharsis. Conflict should be the crucible in which stories are forged. It’s not just about what the characters do; it’s about what the players take away. When handled with care and mutual respect, these fictional struggles can leave a real emotional imprint and help us better understand ourselves and others.
A Critique of Over-Sanitization in Game Design
It’s great that publishers want to be inclusive. But some recent design trends seem to overcorrect in ways that strip out tension. I’ve seen systems that prohibit any conflict between player characters, or that avoid physical danger altogether. These kinds of restrictions, while well-meaning, can flatten the story.
When you remove the possibility of loss, betrayal, or danger, you also remove the stakes. And when nothing’s at stake, the story becomes less immersive and less meaningful. TTRPGs should feel like life at its most vivid—not a carefully padded amusement ride.
Finding the Balance
TTRPGs have always been a mix of chaos and collaboration, imagination and emotion. It’s good that we now talk more about safety and inclusivity—we need those conversations. But safety isn’t about avoiding difficulty; it’s about navigating it together, on terms we all agree to.
Let’s keep making room for everyone at the table. Let’s keep checking in with each other. But let’s also remember the power of roleplay to challenge, provoke, and transform. Because sometimes, a little discomfort is exactly what makes the adventure worth playing.