You Don’t Have a God-Given Right to My Friendship

A Difficult Look at the Other Side of Inclusion in Gaming

This is going to be ugly. This is going to be controversial. I’m going to take a lot of flak. I’m ready for it. And be warned: if you want to call me out on what I have to say, be ready for a tough fight. It probably isn’t worth your time and its probably going to make you angry. Do not expect apologies. Also, this is a departure from my usual shtick. It is no accident that I don’t usually weigh in on social issues. So, some of my usual readers might want to give this one a pass.

I’m weighing here on the topic of inclusion and D&D, most recently discussed in Geeky Lyndsay‘s excellent and well-written article at This is My Game (hosted by ThadeousC). And I truly believe it is a well-done piece. And I agree with the spirit of the article, insofar as the spirit of the article is about treating people with respect and that the only thing required for injustice to thrive is for good people to sit idly by and do nothing. In my life, I try to stand up for those who are being treated unfairly. I’m not perfect. I won’t claim to be a paragon of virtue. But I try to be aware of what I can do. And when I fail to do what I should have done, I make a conscious effort to improve myself. That is the best that can be asked of any human being.

I’ve already made it clear why I object to the language used in Lyndsay’s post in the comments section there. It seems that, whenever the topic of inclusion in D&D comes up, it is always about a particular marginalized (or apparently marginalized group) reminding me that social inequalities exist, they are wrong, and they shouldn’t be allowed at my table. Of course inequalities exist. I’m not stupid. And my table is an environment I can control so I can make sure the inequalities don’t rear their ugly heads. I don’t disagree. What I disagree with is the division of victims of inequality and disrespect. Group A, group B, group C, they never get a fair shake, so we have to fix that.

There are two fundamental problems with this approach. First, it encourages division instead of equality. Whenever someone says “as a woman, I have a right to a safe, respectful, and comfortable environment,” that reinforces the idea that this is a unique problem to women. Or blacks. Or Latinos. Or homosexuals. Or people from New Jersey. Whatever. The correct statement is, and always will be, “as a human being, I have a right to a safe, respectful, and comfortable environment.” Second, but closely related, there is also a strong implication that if you are not a part of one of those particular, recognized groups, your problem is personal, not social. But I don’t want to flog that horse anymore except to say this: if you say you have been mistreated, you will find me a staunch ally. However, if you try draw a line between me and you and tell me that I have a moral imperative to help you because you are part of some particular group, you will mark yourself in my eyes as an unwitting part of the problem. And I won’t want to share your side.

What I do want to address is a misplaced sense of entitlement hinted at in posts like Lyndsay’s, a mistaken belief that you have a inalienable right to be a part of my social circle.

Let’s get this straight right now: this thing that we refer to as the “gaming community” doesn’t exist. It’s not an organization or a company. Its not a governed group. There are no rules for membership. Its just a whole bunch of individuals who happen to have exactly ONE interest in common: we all like to pretend to kill orcs for gold every week or so. Beyond the fact that we all have one common interest we can talk about (and talk about a hell of a lot), its not a thing. Its just thousands of little clubs and hundreds of thousands of little people all over the world. Do I want more people out there gaming? Yes. Absolutely. I want to be able to find players. I want new ideas and innovations to flow into the games we play. I want to make new friends with the same common interest. But do I have a duty to it? No. No one does. At the end of the day, those who want to “improve the community” do so because they choose to. For whatever idealistic or selfish reasons they want. But there is no duty, no moral imperative, and no enforcement, no rules for entry or exit into the community.

Why is there no duty? Because, at the end of the day, this is a game. Its a thing people to do to relax and enjoy themselves. Yes, its a social game, but I don’t need a social circle beyond three to five like-minded individuals to enjoy it. And, you know what? You don’t have any special right to join my social circle just because we both like the same game. I’m not denying you a job or a fair share of the social pie. I’m deciding who I am and am not friends with.

Let me give you an example. And let’s get away from the heavy -isms and try to keep it light, okay? Suppose me and my friends are hanging out in a bar, chatting, playing pool, or throwing darts at each other. I don’t know what people do in bars. I don’t spend a lot of time in them. Anyway, some random stranger walks up and notices we are throwing darts at each other. “Hey,” says he, “I love throwing darts at people too. Can I join in?” “Sure,” we say, “the more targets, the merrier!” And we laugh and throw darts.

Later, in the hospital emergency room, my original friends and I start quoting some insipid TV show. The Office or Friends or Seinfeld or something. And suddenly, the newcomer says “Oh, I hate that show. It makes me very uncomfortable. Can you stop referencing it?” Of course, we love that show. We throw quotes around all the time. Now, we have a choice to make: we can be inclusive and police our behavior in the name of inclusion or we can say no and the new guy can go find someone else to throw darts at next week. Morally, you might say we should probably be inclusive. Maybe you’d be right. But we have no duty to open our circle of friendship to include the newcomer if we don’t wish to. Even if its for foolish reasons.

I can already hear people screaming “that’s different!” But is it really? Why is it different? Let’s try it like this: suppose, instead, our hobby is D&D Themed Yo’ Mamma Jokes, which the newcomer feels is racially insensitive. A little more uncomfortable, yes. And to my friends and I, just as trivial as a TV show we like. The offended party, of course, doesn’t find it trivial at all. Even if the topic of race never comes up, the faux-ebonic language seems to him to be racially derisive. And he has every right to feel to that way.

The problem is, what is on the line is not a basic human right. What is on the line is the right of my friends and I to, within the privacy of our social circle, behave however we wish vs. the right of the newcomer to be a member of our social circle. And the last time I checked, no one has a god given right to be in my social circle. I get to be friends with whoever I like. These are the people I laugh and relax with. And if I feel the newcomer’s friendship isn’t worth the fact that I now feel I have to police my behavior, I have the right to that decision. I get to weigh the costs of the friendship against the benefits. And every person in the social circle gets to make that decision.

Is it dickish, insensitive behavior? The yo’ mamma jokes? Maybe, maybe not. There are arguments on both sides for that case. And frankly, if you think its dickish, insensitive behavior, you probably won’t like my answer. But that’s fine. You have the right to ignore me. Or to think of me as an insensitive dick. Or to call me one, if you really want to. I have the right to walk away, of course.

We can keep escalating. We can replace Yo’ Mamma jokes with the use of the term “gay” as an insult or the casual use of the word “rape.” And, as we do that, I will move from “I’m not sure that’s dickish” to “that’s horrible” pretty quickly. But, the problem is, I still have to defend the right of the asshole, in his relaxation and within the privacy of his social circle, to be an asshole. Because, the moment I say otherwise, I have to give up my own right to choose who my friends are and how I enjoy myself. And, ultimately, that is the problem with the “inclusion in gaming” argument. It amounts to demanding the right to ask people to adjust their behavior (however rotten) so that they can include you in their private recreation. It assumes you are somehow naturally entitled to friendship with everyone and anyone.

And this is the essence of what Lyndsay is demanding. She is demanding that people be forced to adjust their behavior to include her in their social circle. In their fun. And I don’t think she has that right. That is not because I support the idea of rape jokes, misogyny, sexual harassment, or insensitivity. I think, honestly, excluding a person so that you can continue to behave in such a way is pretty shitty behavior. And I would not have such people in my social circle. I would walk away from a group that made such a decision without looking back. But, guess what, this is their private fun. They aren’t determining public policy. They aren’t denying people jobs or incomes. They don’t get federal funding for their group. Their private fun in no way puts Lyndsay at a social disadvantage. The moment they cross that line, society as a whole, and Lyndsay as a person, have the right to demand different behavior. But around a kitchen table in a person’s home, a person has a right to be friends with whomever he likes. I would like to think that such a person wouldn’t have many friends and would quickly learn their lesson. I’d probably be wrong.

If this seems harsh, it is. If it seems unfair, it is. It is unfair that some people will use their freedom to choose their friends as a way to exclude people on irrational bases. It is terribly frustrating. And yes, without a group, you can’t enjoy D&D. But D&D is not special in that respect. And Lyndsay’s experience is not special either. I’ve waded through a lot of crap to find groups I was comfortable with. Have I been abused? Not to that extent and I won’t pretend to know what she’s gone through. I guess I am privileged. But at the end of the day, I still have to find people who I am comfortable with rather than try to force people to make me comfortable. I don’t get to demand accommodation and friendship from anyone. I can only decide which social circles I will join.

Lyndsay has the right to express her discomfort. She has the right to be heard. And she has the right to find these incidents completely uncomfortable in the first place. But she doesn’t have any special right to anyone’s friendship. Sad, unfair, harsh, but true.

It shouldn’t be this way. People should treat people with respect. People should want to include other people, rather than exclude them. There are a lot of things that shouldn’t be. But not all of the things that shouldn’t be are things that are entitlements. A person is entitled to fair opportunities to survive and to prosper. They aren’t entitled to my friendship. They get that because I want to give it. Its mine to give or withhold.

To drive my point home, I’m going to take a big risk. I’m going to step out from behind The Angry DM mask and share something that I (Scott) am deeply ashamed of. Something I have told two people in my life. Something about me that I know is wrong.

I am deeply, deeply uncomfortable around people with mental disabilities.

I know this is not rational. I know it is not right. And, because I am aware of it, I try my damndest not to show it. Not to victimize anyone with it. But it is visceral, emotional, irrational, and beyond my control. It stems from my deepest, darkest fear: my fear that through some injury or disease or accident of poor wiring, I might lose my mental faculties, my mental identity. Because that is what I associate most strongly and most deeply with my sense of self. When I see someone who has such a disability, the deep, frightened part of me sees a person who has lost a part of what makes them essentially human. And it could happen to me. And that scares the shit out of me. To me, someone with a mental disability is like a person with snakes growing out of their head to someone who is deeply terrified of snakes. I’m not trying to make an excuse. And I am not trying to diminish anyone with a mental disability. And I am not suggesting they really aren’t human or less than human. I just cannot seperate a person from that terrible, abiding fear of losing the thing that represents, to me, the core of my very being. Judge me if you will. Frankly, you cannot think worse of me for it than I think of myself. Because I know this is not fair. I know it is not right. It is a demon that I have struggled with for a long time and have never managed to get under control. And that, in itself, upsets me because I should be the master of my own rational thoughts. All of my high-minded inclusiveness fails right there because of an emotion I can’t figure out how to control and a fear I neither chose nor asked for.

And it is now public knowledge. And it is public knowledge so that I can put forth a very simple question. Put yourself in my position, if you can. Imagine your biggest, darkest fear in the shape of a human being. The person is otherwise a quality human being; friendly, charming, wonderful to be around. And it is not their fault that they represent what they do. It is an accident outside of their control. Now, imagine being told you have a duty to include them in your recreation, your relaxtion, your fun. Is that fair? To either of you? Do I not have a right to relax in an environment that is secure and comfortable for me? How can I enjoy my own fun with that hanging over my head? Should I try to include them to better myself? Isn’t that akin to turning them into a project for my own self-betterment? Can I guarantee them a comfortable environment? Can I guarantee my own body language won’t betray me, however well I manage to keep up the act? And if I can’t “get over it,” will I hurt them in the end because I have strung them along and then failed to make myself a better person?

I’m not asking whether or not it is something I should try to get past. Obviously, I think it is. But I also deserve time off from the struggle to make myself a better person just to have fun with friends, without fear of accidentally hurting someone that I know I might hurt.

In the end, we are dealing with disparate social groups. Not a community. Not a society. While some of these problems may be indicative of larger social problems, this is about personal, social circles. People have the right to choose their friends, based on whatever criteria they have. People have the right to ask others to accommodate them socially and people have the right to take offense at things that offend them. But people also have the right, in the privacy of their kitchens and basements, to say no. People have the right to choose their friends.

I will continue to say that the people who deny someone entry into their gaming circle because of prejudice or lack of respect for their fellow humans are wrong. They are being bad human beings by doing so. But, unfortunately, I also have to support their right to choose their social circle for themselves.