I want to start talking about my personal game design philosophy
Let’s be honest here, you’ve written a hard limit into at least one of your games. We all have, I certainly have. It’s one of those simple yet effective pieces of tech (one that’s existed since the dawn of games) that can be introduced to bring an option in line with some other option, or to prevent a scaling into eternity, or some other third thing. Maybe skills have maximums, or you can only use a certain number of consumables in a combat, or an item can only be activated every other scene or round. Whatever it is, you’ve written into your game a rule that tells the players, “No. You cannot do this thing.”
I think we overuse hard limits. My goal is to convince you that hard limits, that the “No” you’ve introduced into your rules, is the game design equivalent of junk food: easy to use and bad in large quantities.
My argument boils down to two simple points:
Hard limits are frustrating and boring
Hard limits limit your design
In addition, I will be detailing three alternatives to hard limits:
Before we begin, I want to clarify the difference between a hard limit and a soft limit:
A hard limit can generally be defined as, "A rule which expressly forbids or otherwise disallows something, either in a given circumstance or in general."
A soft limit, in contrast, can generally be defined as, "A rule which disincentivizes or otherwise indirectly limits something."
Alright, on with the show.
Hard Limits are Frustrating and Boring
This is what I like to call the, “What do you mean I can’t use my telekinesis to disarm that guy??? That’s fucking stupid!” Put simply, people like using their toys, and people dislike being told they can’t use their toys for whatever reason. Even if you haven’t had as vitriolic of a reaction as the one described earlier, I’m more than positive you’ve felt this way toward some rule in an RPG at some point. Even if a hard limitation is completely reasonable, it can still be frustrating to encounter; I understand why I can’t raise my Skill levels above my character level in Pathfinder, but it was still annoying and saddening the first time I heard it.
There’s this tweet from a while back, in which one Mr. Joshy McCroo (@riseupcomus) argues that any hard CC that fully prevents you from taking actions is inherently poor design as it does nothing but frustrate the person that it’s used on. This is the very same concept, and for the very same reason: it’s just not fun.
The fundamental reason for the frustration caused by hard limits is that they restrict player choice. When you introduce a hard “no,” you often remove an opportunity to create interesting decisions, and decisions are the foundation of play. Boredom with a system or a situation is spawned by a lack of choice, by a necessity to perform the same action over and over or an inability to do anything. When you give players a variety of tools that can each be used consistently—particularly in tactical games—they will use those tools in interesting, creative, and fun ways; if you restrict those tools, restrict the freedom to use those tools as desired, boredom and frustration can set in quickly.
Hard Limits Limit Your Design
This point is less objective and far more experiential / personal. This isn’t meant to demean opposing views or differing design philosophies.
As stated earlier, hard limits are simple, effective, and easy to use. If you come up against a design wall, such as an option being too powerful or players over-centralizing, it can be easy to just institute a rule that says “You can’t use this constantly,” or “You can only have this many Gizmos™️,” but doing so will often deprive you of an opportunity to innovate or otherwise improve your design sense.
For me, learning design was a serious process of Example and Trial. I’d use reference points (such as RPGs or Video Games that I really liked) to guide me through tough decisions, and when I didn’t have that guide I’d just write and revise until something fit. Eventually, I realized that growing as a designer and developing my own philosophy meant expanding beyond (even if ever-so-slightly) my influences, and the balance shifted from Example(60)/Trial(40) to Example(30)/Trial(70). For me, the fun of design is coming up against these kinds of issues and seeing if I can develop a novel approach or take a stale approach and spice it up, and I feel myself getting better every time I try.
Hard limits are easy to use and generally (relatively) easy to implement, as such they offer less opportunity for growth.
Some alternatives to hard limits, and why you might consider using them:
Two prevalent examples of costs are weapon ammunition and (≥2) times per Scene/Combat/Rest/Day abilities (both of these can be found in D&D 3e onward and many of its derivatives).
A cost is basically just a hard limit that's been a few steps removed, but those few steps manage to turn it into a soft limit of sorts. Costs fundamentally take a hard "No" and turn it into a "Yes, but . . ."
This is probably the easiest alternative to implement, which explains why it's kinda found everywhere. Even spell slots in the Dragon Game are a form of cost limitation. It's also just a generally strong solution, usually removing a significant amount of frustration and adding opportunities for resource management gameplay. However, if not implemented with care or consideration for surrounding options, you could end up with people carrying over 500 arrows at any given time or once more falling into a set rotation of combat abilities that they perform round-to-round (thereby negating the boredom fix).
This is my personal favorite alternative.
A consequence, like a cost, is a "Yes, but" that disincentivizes an option or changes how a player thinks about using that option. There are two major differences between a cost and a consequence:
Costs are always negative in nature (you are spending something as part of doing something), consequences can be but aren't necessarily negative.
Costs always lead to a state that acts as a hard limit (once the resource is empty, you cannot do the thing), consequences do not directly involve a hard limit.
Two prevalent examples of consequences are taking damage for doing something (such as the Stress generated by Blades in The Dark's flashback mechanic) and gaining / losing affinity with a person or faction (a la Over War: The Night Comes Down).
The primary benefit of implementing a consequence is the interconnection with other mechanics. Costs are relatively self contained—usually only branching out to a currency mechanic, a weight mechanic, or a leveling mechanic at the very most—because the threat of a hard limit somewhere down the line is often enough to change how players approach a specific mechanic or situation on its own; consequences, on the other hand, necessitate an understanding of and interaction with other mechanics in the system because they literally cannot exist without them. If using a specific ability is going to give you a status condition—for example—that status condition inherently affects other mechanics and how you interact with them as well, changing how you think about that ability and its place in your toolset pretty substantially.
As an example, there's a Priest ability in Hollow Halls (my fantasy dungeon crawler) entitled Glimpse The Plan. Glimpse The Plan doubles the user's Believe proficiency (stat used for casting Parable spells), but also afflicts them with the Blind and Afraid statuses (which are both pretty bad). The Priest playtester quickly realized that if he was Afraid all of the time, then he effectively eliminated half of the consequences—and wouldn't ya know it, there's an option to become permanently Afraid at character creation to increase your health.
All of that being said (and my favoritism clearly on display), consequences can suffer from a difficulty of implementation. Some consequences, particularly the taking of damage, are really easy to throw about haphazardly and thereby suffer from the same "limitation of design" problem that hard limits do; but escaping those, adding consequences that are unique and create interesting choices, takes time and care and an awareness of how certain mechanics can and do interact. Even the easier-to-implement consequences can often take a few tries to fine-tune.
This is simultaneously the simplest and most complicated alternative. To balance something here means to compare an option to other surrounding options, weigh the value of each, and slowly tweak numbers until they're all in line with each other. Generally speaking, the easiest way to do this is to craft an option as a baseline and balance everything else around that option, but there are times where you'll create a more powerful ability that you don't want to change, thereby causing it to become the new baseline and so on and so forth.
This alternative involves a lot of trial and error, a lot of guesswork, a lot of testing, and a willingness to add, remove, and change elements of any given option. It’s time consuming, stressful, and incredibly rewarding. I don’t recommend going pure nitty-gritty numbers-hound in every situation, or even in every game, but—if used properly—this option can create an incredibly healthy and interesting environment of options.
The primary strength of numbers balancing is that you'll probably be doing it at least a little bit anyways. Unless you're part of the "balance is for pussies" crowd, some amount of balance work will be done on every option you introduce into the game. This is kinda just, y'know, the logical extreme of that process.
All three listed alternatives can be used with each other, even on a single mechanic.
I do not think that hard limits are inherently bad. I really need to make it clear that I DO NOT think that you should never use them (as much as that may be suggested by the title of this post). Sometimes you'll be on a serious time crunch, or you won't be able to come up with a suitable alternative, or it's the most thematically or mechanically sound option, so on and so forth. There are instances in which it will be appropriate, or even preferable, to use a hard limit—but that doesn’t make an over-reliance upon them any better for you or the people playing your game.
Honestly, what I want people to take away from this post is very simple: every design decision matters. Even seemingly inconsequential choices with limited impact can have profound effects on an important moment for some of your players, and as such are worth considering carefully.
Hey, I'm Gio. I run Rotten Shotgun games. If you wanna support me, or keep up to date on my work, you can find me on Itch.io at https://rotten-shotgun-games.itch.io/
Otherwise, I hope y'all have a great night and a great day!
