Game Playing Without Rule-Following
Introduction
The logical incompatibility thesis, as it has come to be known, maintains in short that it is impossible for cheaters to win. Cheaters cannot win, because winning a game requires playing of the game, and, since cheaters intentionally violate the rules of the game in question, they are not genuine participants – or so defenders of the thesis hold. This last point, that cheaters do not play the game, is the one that stirs the greatest controversy. Here, it will be argued that cheaters are participants in their games. (In fact, cheating requires playing the game.) This is possible, because playing (or being a participant in) a game does not require following any of the rules of the game.
Debate over the logical incompatibility thesis is a focal point in a broader debate on how to define games and game-playing. For the most part, there are two competing camps, the formalists and the non-formalists. Formalists believe that games are defined by a set of formal rules. Quoting William Morgan:
According to formalism, the various derivative notions of a game are to be defined exclusively in terms of its formal rules. What it means to engage in a game, to count as a legitimate instance of a game, to qualify as a bona fide action of a game, and to win a game is to act in accordance with the appropriate rules of the game. All instances and actions that fall outside the rules of the game, therefore, do not count as legitimate instances or actions of a game. (6, p. 50)
Non-formalism, championed by Fred D’Agostino (among many others), asserts that the formalist account is incomplete. In addition to the formal rules of a game, there is a socially-determined interpretation of the rules, an ethos. Non-formalists are fond of pointing out that, in many actual instances of games, some of the rules are informally ignored or modified to promote certain interests. For instance, what counts as a foul in basketball will vary widely depending on the social context. In American high-school basketball, it is often the case that very little contact between players will result in a foul being called, whereas there is much greater contact allowed in professional basketball. The comparison is even starker with regard to pickup games, as is summed up by the common standard, ‘No blood, no foul’. The formal rules might well be the same in these cases, but the interpretations of them will vary.
Non-formalists hold that their view is supported by our intuitions on what counts as an instance of playing a game, especially those concerning cheaters. One commonly discussed example concerns a prominent baseball player, the pitcher Gaylord Perry. Mr. Perry is in the baseball Hall of Fame, due in large part to his having won an extraordinary number of games. It is also nearly universally accepted that Mr. Perry threw spitballs[1] for the entire length of his career. Spitballs are illegal, of course. A formalist account of games would seem to entail that Gaylord Perry never pitched in any games, since he (purportedly) broke the rules of baseball at every occasion. Further, since he did not play, and his position is crucial to the playing of baseball, none of his teammates did either. This is, to say the least, rather counter-intuitive.
Ethos-based accounts, on the other hand, may be able to handle such cases. Perry’s behavior is impermissible and deserving of penalty (ejection), but not to the point of invalidating the game. Formalist accounts only seem to be able to make a distinction between permissible and impermissible behavior. However, according to D’Agostino,
The ethos of a game distinguishes between behavior that is permissible, behavior that is impermissible but acceptable, and behavior that is unacceptable. . . . According to this nonformalist account of games, only such unacceptable behavior is not game-behavior. (2, p.47)[2]
Of course, proponents of formalist accounts of games are not without resources. Typically, formalists reply to non-formalist objections by pointing out that the non-formalists have ignored the fact that games seem to have at least two types of rules, constitutive and regulative rules. So, it is claimed that one can still be playing a game, so long at the only rule violations are those concerning evaluative rules. Thus, while fouling a player constitutes are rule violation, it is the violation of an evaluative rule, and thus is still part of the game. Similarly, Gaylord Perry’s throwing of spitballs constitutes a violation of an evaluative rule of baseball. Non-formalists respond to such claims by pointing out the difficulty in specifying the difference between constitutive and regulative rules. And so the debate goes.[3] The point I will argue for here is that both formalist and non-formalist accounts of game-playing are unsatisfactory, and I will suggest an alternative.
Problems with the Standard Accounts
There are at least a couple of reasons why both formalist and non-formalist accounts of game-playing should be rejected. Firstly, both accounts claim (or seem to claim) that game-playing is the result of actions in accordance with the formal rules and/or an interpretation of those rules. Quoting Morgan again,
What it means to engage in a game, to count as a legitimate instance of a game, to qualify as a bona fide action of a game, and to win a game is to act in accordance with the appropriate rules of the game. (6, p. 50 – my emphasis)
And D’Agostino,
Permissible behavior is, on this nonformalist account, either in accordance with the formal rules of the game or violates those rules only in a way which, according to the ethos of that game, does not require the invocation of penalties. (2, p. 47 – my emphasis)
By appearances, both D’Agostino and Morgan are giving definitions of game-playing behavior. But these definitions are implausible, as the definitions seem both too weak and too strong.
Practice Games and The Uninvited “Player”
The standard accounts are too weak because merely acting in accordance with a set of rules (and/or and interpretation of them) defining a behavior is not sufficient for such acting to be an instance of that behavior. Someone practicing foul shots is engaging in behavior in accordance with the rules of basketball (where each foul shot is taken as an individual action), but their behavior is certainly not part of any game. Consider scrimmages, or “practice games” as further examples. Often coaches stop in the middle of the exercise to give and instruction, scores are not kept, etc. Yet, most of the actions are in accordance with the rules. It also seems intuitively obvious that a pantomime of a game is not an instance of the game, even though all of the actions in question might be in accordance with the rules of the game. Showing someone how to play a game would seem to require action in accordance with the rules of the game, but such an action would also not be an instance of the game.
In addition, there are potentially an infinite number of games that have the full rules of another game as a proper subset. Surely, merely that one game contains the full rules of another is not sufficient for claiming that one is an instance of the other. Consider the en passant rule in chess. This would seem to be a constitutive rule of chess. Yet, nearly every chess game is in accordance both with the set of chess rules that include this rule and a set of rules that do not, as it is rarely applied. One could not tell by observing a typical game of ‘chess’, whether or not the game being played was defined by the one set or the other. One can imagine a game with so many additional rules, that it would be unrecognizable by anyone as a game of chess.
At the very least, what both accounts are lacking is recognition that actions must be following the rules, or acting from the rules, not merely in accordance with them.[4] Those pantomiming a game are not intending to play, though they may well be intending that their behaviors mimic those of players. And they may well use the rules of a game as their guide in this effort.
Finally, the most intuitively obvious example that runs counter to the idea that ‘playing a game’ reduces to actions in accordance with the rules (or an interpretation of them) is that of the uninvited “player”. Consider an instance of pickup soccer game where one team is playing with only 10 of the 11 possible players, because there weren’t enough players to go around. A passerby, watching the game progress, recognizes that one team is playing short-handed, and, in a spirit of evenhandedness, runs onto the field, intercepts the ball in mid-flight, and directs it past the goalkeeper into the goal.
Has this individual scored a goal? I believe the answer is clearly ‘no’, even thought his behavior might have been entirely in accordance with the constitutive and regulative rules of soccer, or an interpretation of them. Certainly, no formal rule of (a casual match of) soccer was violated in this instance. He did not use his hands; he was not offside, etc. However, he did not score a goal because he was not a player.
The Massively Incompetent Player
In addition to being too weak, both traditional accounts of game-playing are too strong, in that they rule out the possibility of what I will call the massively incompetent player. The type of player I have in mind is that player which, either through ignorance of the rules or sheer incompetence, succeeds in violating most or all of the rules of a game. It seems obvious to me that there are such players.[5] And, it seems just as obvious that such individuals are indeed genuine players.
Consider a hypothetical case wherein a group of people are discussing their plans for a weekly soccer game. One of there regular players will not be able to attend, and they are seeking a replacement. Asking around the office, one person, Alice, is cajoled into agreeing to play. Alice says that she doesn’t know much about soccer, but she is willing to help out the team anyway. The other players, desperate for a game, accept the offer. Now, consider that weekend when the newcomer shows up to the field at the appointed time. They ask her what position she plays. She says she doesn’t know, and the team, recognizing that this may not be the most skilled player, decides to put her in a position that will cause the least trouble – say, right halfback. The match commences and our newcomer, not knowing quite what to do, stays rooted at her position. Early on in the match, she sees an opposing player dribbling the ball in her general direction, at which point she proceeds to tackle the player football-style, pick up the ball, and throw it to one of her teammates. (She knows little of the rules, but she has seen one of the other players on the team pick up the ball and throw it.) Of course, this is a violation of the rules, and the other team is awarded a free kick.
Aghast that their fellow player would be so ignorant of the rules of soccer, her teammates make mental notes to keep the ball away from her at all costs. Alice, understandably embarrassed after facing the shocked expressions of her teammates and the snickers from members of the opposing team, decides to spend the rest of the match standing just near sideline for the duration, in hopes of not causing her team any more difficulty. Her team goes on to lose the match rather decisively.
So, is she a player or not? Clearly, the formalist must say ‘no’, as Alice did not act in accordance with most, or even any, of the rules of soccer – be they evaluative or constitutive. And in fact she violated one of the key rules of the game in the one instance in which her behavior was relevant. I suppose one might claim that her standing on the field counts as her following a rule of the game, but surely this is not definitive of playing soccer. Had a person walked down from the bleachers and stood, uninvited, on the field, no one would have considered them a player. And in any event, in soccer, it is permissible for players to be off the field of play – as in cases of temporary injury, throw-ins, or in the process of playing a ball near the sideline.
I suppose one might simply bite the bullet and deny that the massively incompetent player is indeed a genuine player – but this does not fit with ordinary language. Surely, at the bar after the game, when Alice’s teammates were asked by an acquaintance why they lost so badly, they might well respond, ‘We had a really lousy player. It was like we only had 10 players’. They wouldn’t say they only had 10 players. [6]
Similarly, the non-formalist (who supports an ethos account of games) should also deny that Alice is a player.[7] According to ethos accounts, game-playing is determined by referencing ‘conventions regarding applications of the rules to circumstances’ (3, p. 167). Surely, picking up the ball and then standing near the sidelines would not be counted as sufficient for game-playing by any convention concerning soccer. If Alice’s behavior, in total, counts as definitive of game-playing behavior, then any coaches or spectators who carelessly stepped over the sidelines while watching play would also count as players. In fact, there would be more cause to name these as players, as they had not violated any conventions of soccer playing. The ethos account would run the risk of being vacuous. How, then, is game-playing to be determined?
‘ Having C ommitted ’ to Act ing in Accordance with the Rules
The view I propose here is that game-playing is not the result of conforming one’s behavior to the rules or ethos, but rather it is the result of having committed to conforming one’s behavior to the rules or ethos.[8] What game one is playing will thus be determined by what game is constituted by the rules to which one has committed.