Friday, June 26, 2026

Story Might Be Bigger than Scripts, Bacon



The Dude Knows His Stuff... That's Part of the Problem


I have a pet peeve: when experts forget that their expertise comes at a cost. Bacon is, in comparison to me, clearly the expert in his domain. I’ve written some solid TV scripts. He has actually launched projects — a meaningful gap in experience. That said, I’m not disputing the internal logic of his argument. His conclusions follow reasonably from his assumptions. It’s those assumptions I want to challenge. Bacon gives an excellent breakdown of how story functions under singular authorial vision — the kind required by most novels, films, and many scripted games. That part is strong. The problems arise elsewhere.


What Is a Roleplaying Game?

The medium of TTRPGs
This needs to be established, apparently, because right here is where we'll find the error. TTRPGs have a vital difference from all other games, and if it is not addressed here, the rest of my article will make no sense. I am going to use the words Participants to refer to everyone at the table, GM to refer to Game Master (GM), and Player to refer to players.

I am aware, deeply, that non-GM'd games exist. I'm not using that paradigm at the moment, and I am very aware of the limitation. The point may be better to make without a GM, but I don't have enough experience to comment terribly well. I am also aware that I am generalizing. If you try saying "Yeah but this game", you will not be addressing my general point.

The General Flow of an RPG


A fictional setting and a game is agreed upon by the Participants.
The GM decides upon a situation to present the Players.
The Players decide how to respond to the situation, and inform the GM of their decisions.
The Participants, to varying degrees, decide what happens, using the setting and the game to generate prompts they interpret.
This creates a new situation, which the Players must address.



Yeah But (Generative Procedures)-


I know, I know, I really over-generalized. I'm trying to capture a very wide swath of design (although it's not nearly as wide as you think). The biggest thing left out of this is the use of procedures to generate prompts.

And this is where the video actually falls apart, right off the bat, right in the definitions.  The above flow is exhausting to maintain for most Participants... so we generate prompts using game mechanics. Like, for instance, OSR random tables, or PBTA moves, or even spending a currency (like in Amber) or class features. These are meant to provide fuel for the imaginations of the Participants. More to the point, these prompts are part of the base DNA of an RPG. You are playing with these prompts, because they are toys.

These prompts are then interpreted into a fictional event. Even if you're using something sub-par like a previously existing adventure to tell you what will happen next, you still need to interpret those events into what's going on at the table's conversation.

The essential action of a roleplaying game is the interpretation of mechanically generated prompts into a previously existing fictional situation.

And that creates a story.

Story Does Not Require Singular Authorial Intent




The oldest and most culturally potent stories we have — folk tales, myths, The Iliad, and The Odyssey — were profoundly collaborative. As Jonathan Shay showed in Achilles in Vietnam, the Iliad served as communal therapy for the trauma of war. These works were not drafted whole-cloth by a solitary genius; they emerged from a living tradition, shaped by many hands and voices over time, then later refined. Most pre-modern storytelling existed on a continuum — performed, adapted, edited by audiences and subsequent tellers. Explicit collaboration is the historical norm. Novels and movies, by contrast, are historically atypical: powerful, technologically enabled concentrations of vision, but not the default against which everything else should be judged.

TTRPGs are not a strange offshoot. They are a gamified, accelerated evolution of that ancient collaborative tradition. Procedural generation is innovative, but it is still building on the norm rather than inventing something alien to it.

On Video Games and False Comparisons


Comparisons between video games and TTRPGs often miss the mark. Video games — even procedurally rich ones like Minecraft, Breath of the Wild, or Dark Souls — are still authored experiences with bounded possibility spaces. They can borrow TTRPG-inspired techniques, but they remain fundamentally different in intent and openness. A medieval labyrinth and a spell are both magical in their own way, yet one is designed and the other is emergent.


But TTRPGs Have Design Intent!


Of course they do. Like spells or procedures, RPG rules and settings plant seeds with intent. A love potion might make someone fall in love — but with whom, and to what end? Joy or misery? The designer/GM sets the frame and possibility space; the table discovers what actually grows. The intent is story — not in the narrow scriptwriter sense, but in the broader human sense of shared meaning-making.

I agree that many storygames have deep flaws in execution. Still, a design that consciously pursues theme and emergence is doing something more aligned with storytelling’s deeper roots than pure blank-slate improvisation.


Ultimately,


Bacon isn’t wrong about how "traditionally authored" stories work. He is simply mistaking a historically recent, technologically enabled specialization for the universal essence of storytelling. The novel and the film are powerful because they concentrate vision. TTRPGs are powerful because they distribute it. Both have their place. Both can produce something transcendent. The tragedy is when fans of one feel the need to diminish the other to validate their preference. 

Story doesn’t belong to the solitary genius in front of a keyboard any more than it belongs exclusively to the table of friends rolling dice. It has always been, and will always be, something humans do together — sometimes with one person holding the torch steady, sometimes passing it hand to hand in the dark… or rolling dice to see who carries it next.

The real question isn’t “Which medium does story better?” It’s “What kind of story are we trying to tell, and which tools best serve it?” Everything else is just territorial noise.

Bacon understands torch. I just wish he’d remember how many hands — and how much chance — have carried the flame before him.



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