VR Designs

Ethics and Morals

In days of yore battles were fought by men chosen for the task in places specially selected to be well clear of everybody except the combatants. Slings were slung, spears were lunged and swords were clanged against shields with the only people getting hurt being those involved. It was a neat, contained, affair that allowed matters to be decided by force of arms alone.

It wasn’t civilised. Whenever men decide to kill each other it is always going to be shades of ugliness and horror. But, and it’s a big BUT, innocent bystanders didn’t get harmed. The violence was constrained to the field of battle.

That’s not the case nowadays. In any given conflict the single biggest casualty count will be that of civilians. If you bothered to research and chart the ratio of military personnel killed vs. Civilians over time then you’d likely end up with a graph that looked like the Stairway to Heaven. It’d be Heaven only because of the ascending nature of the graph. Other metaphors may be more appropriate but they couldn’t avoid the unpleasant fact of ever increasing civilian casualties in proportion to military ones.

The reasons for this aren’t hard to fathom. Battles today aren’t fought on a wide, flat, field over yonder hill, far from the town. They are conducted inside the town with no consideration given to it’s population cowering in the basements. The lethality and reach of artillery has far surpassed that of the longbow and enabled the point of conflict to spread, amoeba like, over vast distances. Air power has brought the ability to directly target civilian centres and further smear the conflict zone into areas previously presumed safe.

The advent of smart weapons has only accentuated the trend. Once you have the ability to target this building in amongst a street full of them you are more likely to do so. Hope you flattened the right building. Smart weapons are only smart in a targeting sense. They don’t have the ability to check every room in the building for sleeping families before leveling it in an explosive cloud of concrete and plaster dust.

That group of people milling around the courtyard in the high angle, black and white, satellite image that is being peered at by operators on the other side of the world? Are they militants or a wedding party? There is an AGM-114 Hellfire toting Predator drone doing it’s best to look like a nonchalant eagle waiting on the decision.

We could keep talking about all manner of other modern day horrors that have become an integral part of armed conflict. We could, but we won’t. It’s enough to acknowledge that a Dark Side of war exists and that it is a significant part of modern day conflict. We aren’t here to judge or take a moral or ethical stance, simply to accept the fact that it is, sadly, what it is.

Was it a factor in Operation Barbarossa? How could it not be? This was the single biggest conflict in the history of the world. The Guinness Book of Records doesn’t deal in this area but it is yet to be beaten. Over twenty seven million people died. The biggest casualty count was civilian.

It was an existential war. Both sides were playing for their very survival. Negotiated peace settlements were never an option. Destroy or be destroyed. No quarter given.

You could fill pages with a list of atrocities carried out by both sides. The Dark Side of the war had a particular sinister tinge to it in Barbarossa. Two ruthless dictators throwing millions of fighting men at each other in a struggle for their countries, their beliefs and their own lives. The lady selling peace, happiness and roses was doomed to close from a lack of customers given the stakes and personalities involved.

Yes, there was a Dark Side. It was a significant factor in the War in Russia. But does it belong in our model of Operational Command?

In most war games the answer is a definitive no. It’s a touchy, very political area that is best steered clear of. There are people still alive who have personal experience of the events. Besides, who wants to be confronted by the uglier aspects of a knock down, fight to the death, that was Barbarossa?

They are all good arguments. There appears to be little upside in dealing with the Dark Side.

The game isn’t interested in politics. It’s agnostic. It’s also not the role of the game designer to take a stance, one way or another, on all the bad things that happened. It’s a game, not a recreation of the worst atrocities of the twentieth century.

The core focus is of Operational Command. Juggling the balls, trying not to drop them. The Dark Side of war has become a necessary, and important, element of this. It can’t be anything else. If we are going to fight wars in amongst civilians there will be a multitude of decisions, big and small, that revolve around this aspect.

It’s an important part of Operational Command. A grey area that, if omitted, would be leaving a sizable void. If we are going to a lot of trouble to model all the other elements involved why leave this out?

Including the Dark Side requires walking a fine line. There are, as it turns out, quite a few fine lines involved in the design of this game but this is the most delicate of them all. Just as well my ballet shoes still fit. Which they would if they came in size 14 (Euro size 47). Good luck with that.

An essential requirement would be to keep any mention of the Dark Side as generic as possible. There is no need for specific details that might confront a Player. The literature, and media, of the conflict is sufficiently broad and well established that the Player will automatically fill in the details themselves. All we need to do is provide a broad picture outline of generic events that touched on the ugly side of the war. Along with this comes the aforementioned need to remove any hint of political statement.

There should also be the option to switch this part of the game off. In fact it is OFF by default. It’s not everybody’s cup of tea and that’s fair enough. But for those after a more nuanced command experience, it’s there.

In the time period portrayed by the game it is largely a German Player experience. It’s woven into the game mechanics of relations, decisions and partisans. There are some tough decisions to be made. Scope is provided for the Player to take the line of least resistance or to assume the high morale ground.

Why would anyone not chose the best, most ethical, course of action? Why indeed? Do psychopaths play war games? Who knows? It’s a reasonable assumption that, if they did, they would be an insignificant minority.

The reason why a Player may chose to take the easy way out is that the high moral ground requires a commensurate cost in Political Points. Recall the German Player’s position in the hierarchy. A number of his superiors, including the man at the top, were strongly pushing an ideological position that wouldn’t sit well with anybody other than those with short circuits in their neural networks.

Yes, you can oppose and protest the Dark Side but as you are going against the wishes of your superiors it will come at a cost in Political Points and relationships. To add some spice to the mix at the end of the game the Player is scored in a range of intangible areas. One of these is his likelihood of having to answer to the war crimes tribunal.

Of course the International Criminal Court will not be dispatching it’s minions to knock on his door in the wee small hours if he clocks in a dubiously low score. It’s a piece of game chrome, nothing more.

With the focus on Operational Command the real juice of the game is in the decisions it requires of you. The tougher, more challenging that those decisions are the better the game is at generating that experience.

Deciding on fuel allocations between theatres is a decision of import. It is a straight strategic judgement call that involves winners and losers as well as a realignment of relations that will affect your ability to prosecute the war going forward.

Deciding what line to take when confronted by atrocities committed by some of the more unsavoury forces present, perhaps not under your direct command, is a matter of a different dimension. It has relationship ramifications but there is no direct on-the-map impact. It taps into another part of your brain – the part that determines what is right and wrong. The war crimes score serves to bring this into sharper focus. You are dealing with a moral decision.

These aren’t decisions that can be easily tossed to one side. They make you think. The Political Points you will have to expend to hold a righteous line could be better spent elsewhere. It is unlikely that you’ve got a reservoir of spare PP’s to burn. Game wise it’s a cut and dried decision to go with flow. Sweep it under the carpet. Move on.

But there’s that voice niggling away at the back of your head. It’s doesn’t feel right. Nobody wants to do the wrong thing. Nobody wants to front a War Crimes Tribunal. Yet are you willing to burn a few bridges and a lot of Political Points when you badly need them to lobby for additional Divisions to be transferred from the West?

Welcome to Twentieth Century Operational Command.

Cheers,
Cameron

continued from developer notes #6

Stalin

Stalin provides a diametrically opposite command experience. This time it is the Player who dominates the command structure. There is no need to play politics when you are the alpha male, the top dog.

Which creates a new set of design challenges. How do you provide a sense of hierarchy in this situation? Where is the necessity to cooperate with other people when you can have any one of them executed at will? Does placing the Player at the top of the hierarchy completely negate the people element that we have previously identified as crucial to any model of Operational Command?

It’s tricky. Take away the people and you end up with the typical God-like approach of many other war games. But if those people have no direct impact on the Player’s actions they quickly morph into window decorations.

The game has taken a different approach. The people are there and they do indeed exert a strong influence but it is an internal one. Before looking at this in detail it’s worth taking a step back and contrasting the two different command experiences on offer.

The German Player is part of a hierarchy. He is required to be a political player just as much as a military one. He has at his command arguably the, at the time, world’s best army. The Wehrmacht was the arch typical well-oiled machine that conquered all before it. The martial tools available to the German Player are honed to a sharp edge. They are proven and are interchangeable. Everything meshes together into a synchronised whole. A world class symphonic orchestra in full flight at the peak of it’s power.

The Soviet Player, on the other hand, is in possession of a smartly attired but discordant, back alley rabble where half the musicians are asleep and the other half have rarely held an instrument, let alone had to play in harmony with others. The conductor is way off in the cheaps seats, well to the rear of the auditorium. The musicians have to squint to see the movement of his baton.

This has come about because the owner of the Orchestral company had, a few years previously, rounded up all the competent musicians and taken them out the back where they were summarily shot. Others he locked up in the basements of notorious prisons and threw away the key. To fill the gaps and maintain a full orchestral roster he collected a bunch of hanger’s on and flunkies and told them that, henceforth, they were to be a violin player. Everybody got a shiny new uniform.

Anyone can pick up a violin and create sound. Just like anybody can command an Army. On a good day, when the sun is shining and the biggest potential problem is the lack of decent refreshment.

Stalin’s Great Officer Purge of ‘37 and ‘38 was aimed at eliminating the last remaining threat to his power. In doing so he eviscerated the Red Army. A consistent historical motif of Dictators is the need to clear the decks of any competition once they themselves have clawed their way to the top by fair means or foul.

We are being too kind to Dictators here. None of them used fair means. A ruthless, take no prisoners, climb over the bodies, style was the norm. Anyone who had assumed power on this basis would be paranoid about others doing the same to them. He who trades in knives spends a lot of time with his back to the wall.

Stalin was no different to any of history’s police line-up of successful, brutal, dictators. Paranoia be thy name.

It was the reason he instigated the purge. It was the reason he remained highly sensitive to any threat emanating from his Officer Corps. It is also a great solution to our design conundrum.

The people in the Soviet hierarchy aren’t important in the sense that Stalin needs their help. It will be given, regardless, as they are ruled by fear. They are, however, important in how they affect Stalin’s state of mind. His level of paranoia.

At no point did the Red Army Officer Corps have any realistic prospects of mounting a successful coup. What mattered more was Stalin’s perception of the threat of this occurring. He was genuinely paranoid at the prospect of being terminally removed from his post by those beneath him.

Every subordinate presented as a potential threat. The cumulative tally of these individual threats, along with a few other factors such as the loss of politically important cities all contribute to Stalin’s level of paranoia.

At certain points the pressure cooker inside his head will blow and he will suffer a Paranoid Episode. There are consequences. Army Commanders will be shot, the wheels of command will stutter and seize. The Player’s freedom of action will be temporarily constrained.

Here we have a workable mechanic that allows for a top down command experience while elevating the subordinates within the hierarchy as people who have an impact on the Player’s experience and who need to be taken into consideration.

It also aligns with reality of Stalin. Yes he did have Army Commanders shot for no other reason than he perceived them to be a threat. Whether he suffered paranoid episodes in the manner and frequency depicted by the game is debatable but we’ve already decided that game play trumps strict adherence to historical fidelity.

Cheers,

Cameron

continued from developer notes #5

Hitler

Hitler was an outlier. Here was a domineering, driven, charismatic man who exerted a level of control well beyond any reasonable expectations of somebody perched at the very apex of a command pyramid. That those same personal qualities that enabled him to overpower and overshadow all those beneath him also drove him in directions best described as dark and sinister is not in dispute.

He was a most unpleasant individual but, having acknowledged this, it’s his influence on the command structure that is of particular interest from a design point of view.

The German Player is firmly ensconced within the hierarchy. Hitler dominates from the top. How do you accommodate the reality of Hitler’s influence without turning the Player into a wooden puppet that jerks to the string pulls of a computerised Führer? Yet the Hitler factor was so strong that to exclude it from a game modelling Operational Command would be a major oversight.

Disassociating the game from Hitler’s dark side is an easy first step. That’s the low hanging fruit plucked and consumed. We’ll have to jump for the rest.

Hitler didn’t help matters. Rather than having clearly defined goals for his invasion of Russia, he kept changing his mind. One moment he was charging towards Leningrad, the next the Ukraine. Like a child with Attention Deficit Disorder he was easily distracted and would flip flop from one objective to the next.

At the commencement of Operation Barbarossa there was a specific plan in place which was largely followed as originally laid out. But it ceased after the Battle of Smolensk. The plan anticipated that by then the Red Army would have been defeated. Indeed it suffered such horrendous casualties that, if it had been a boxer, it would have been flat on its back on the canvas. But rather than stay down for the count it staggered, bloodied and dazed, to its feet. It possessed reserves hither to unknown by the Germans. They kept punching, landing blow after blow. It reeled and stumbled but stayed upright.

The Germans must have thought they were fighting a Bolshevik Golem. No matter how hard they hit, how often they hit or where they hit, it just wouldn’t die.

When Plan A succeeded tactically but failed strategically, the Germans were left in a conundrum. Tensions boiled over between Hitler and his High Command. Everybody had a different view on what to do next. There was no clarity or consensus.

It’s no surprise that Hitler became fickle and changeable. He wasn’t favourably disposed to taking the advice of the upper echelons of the Prussian Officer Corps at the best of times but when they failed to agree among themselves as to the best course of action he fell back onto his own devices.

Plan B was rapidly followed by Plan C which, in turn, was swept off the table to make room for Plan D.

To accommodate the ‘whim of the Führer’ the game has Hitler calling a conference to discuss strategy roughly once a month. There are five of these and it’s not guaranteed that one will be called every month. There is a measure of uncertainty. Some will be skipped. Except the last one in early November. That’s a given as it’s necessary to provide certainty for the Player.

At the completion of each conference Hitler will issue a new, numbered, ‘Directive’ that will outline his goals in order of priority. The Player has, depending on his chosen strategy, the ability to exert a measure of influence.

Mechanically we now have a reasonably realistic facsimile of Hitler’s decision making process. At irregular intervals the Player will be summonsed to a conference where upon Hitler will arbitrarily decide which objectives are to be given precedence over others. But what impact will this have on the Player? Will they be forced to comply with the fickle demands of the Führer?

Well that depends. Right at the start of the game they choose one of three over riding strategies that they will follow. The first requires them to support Hitler and take whatever is his current objective. As this is a moving target there are some obvious disadvantages. These are offset by assistance that Hitler is willing to give along the way.

At the other extreme ‘Demand Military Independence’ will have the Player standing up for his right to fight the war on his own terms. Without assistance and with the risk of getting fired if he fails to cover his flanks politically.

The interaction between the Player’s approach and Hitler’s changeable goals now becomes apparent. With one approach – Support Hitler – the outcome of a conference becomes vitally important and there is a need for the Player to be able to place himself in a position where he can exert some sway over what is decided.

With a different approach – Demand Military Independence – what Hitler decides is irrelevant as the Player has determined to tread his own path, albeit with some risk attached. Here we’ve got a workable mechanism that allows the Player to trade independence for ongoing assistance.

But that’s not all. The Hitler factor is woven into the fabric of the game even deeper. Every decision that is taken which aligns with Hitler’s current primary objective will be easier to make. It will cost less Political Points. It will be the path of least resistance.

Conversely a decision that is diametrically opposed to the stated goals of the Führer will be a harder road to tread with a Political Point premium being charged. To highlight this consider a straightforward fuel allocation decision. Perhaps you decide that you’d like Armeegruppe Mitte to have a greater share at the expense of the other two theatres. If Hitler has his heart set on Moscow then you’ll receive a discount but if Moscow is sitting third or fourth on his current list of priorities then you’ll be paying a premium in Political Points.

It’s a subtle way of reminding the Player that, while you are free to do as you wish, the view of the Führer needs to be taken into account.

Let’s not forget the fiddling. Hitler couldn’t help himself. As Barbarossa progressed he inserted himself more and more into day to day operational matters that were well below his remit as supreme commander. That book on Delegation previously mentioned? In one ear and out the other.

The game models this by applying intermittent movement penalties to a randomly selected Panzergruppe as these were the ‘bright, shiny, light’ formations that most caught the Führer’s attention. The level of interference is minor but enough be an annoyance. The frequency of the interference is keyed into the Player’s chosen approach. It’s assumed that if you’ve chosen to ‘Support Hitler’ then you are sufficiently inside the tent for him to meddle more often than if standing at the entrance, one foot on either side, with a ‘Moscow or Bust’ approach. A big advantage to the ‘Demand Military Independence’ approach is the total absence of interference by the Führer. He is standing off to one side, impatiently waiting for you to drop the ball.

The ability to shift a Panzergruppe from one theatre to another, as previously mentioned, requires the assent of Hitler. If the two of you aren’t on speaking terms then your strategic flexibility will be constrained.

Which highlights the focus that the game has given the ‘H’ factor. He’s there. He’s important. The Player is given scope to work with him, or against him, with corresponding trade-offs but without being forced to don a straight jacket.

Cheers,
Cameron

continued from developer notes #4

Delegation

Being in Command entails making a lot of decisions. A fundamental rule is that the higher up the Chain of Command you climb the more decisions there are to make. This applies equally to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

Typically the increase in decisions required escalates in an exponential manner with each step up the hierarchy. It doesn’t take long before anyone attempting to ‘do-it-all’ is overwhelmed by sheer volume. It’s not hard to find examples of people who have reached an evolutionary dead end as a micro manager.

Delegation steps in. Commanders have staff. They have subordinates. Their job is to take care of all the lower level decisions, freeing up the Commander for the important ones.

A model of Command would be very one dimensional if it didn’t incorporate delegation. You would be, once again, elevating the Player up to a God like status where Command is a mere wave of the hand.

Delegation implies tension. You’re busy, you’ve got a lot on your plate. There isn’t time to personally take care of everything, even if your staff have ensured you are only dealing with the important decisions.

Choosing which decisions to delegate is an interesting decision in itself. Having your Chief of Staff deal with a matter is likely to result in a less optimal outcome than if you tackled it yourself. His grasp of the bigger picture, his strategic understanding is at a lower level than your own. As it should be. He’s not in charge, you are.

In order to make this model work there needs to be a currency of Command. A finite resource that is accumulated and spent. Which would be Political Points (PP). These are an abstract concept that encompass your personal time and energy, your political goodwill and your available staff resources.

Political Points allow decisions to be quantified. Yes, you can choose that option but it will require ‘x’ amount of PP’s. Certain decision options require more PP’s than others. At times you aren’t going to have enough PP’s to cover all the decisions. Delegation becomes necessary.

Do you keep a reserve of PP’s against a rainy day when a really crucial decision might turn up or do you spend, spend, spend, moving forward on a wing and a prayer?

Cheers,
Cameron