There are a few self-imposed rules that I try to abide by when I’ve got my Reviewer hat on. As well as all the obvious stuff like “be honest”, and “play the game enough times to give it a fair review”, there are some less-obvious ones too. One of the most important to me is “stay the hell away from other reviews and playthroughs”.

My intention when it comes to writing a review is to approach it as if I was someone buying the game from a shop, whether that’s a bricks-and-mortar one or a virtual one. Part of that approach means that I need to come to the game blind, and that means that the single most important thing in the box is the rulebook.

It doesn’t matter how good the components are, how swish the player mats are, and how fanchy-shmancy the insert is. The rulebook’s quality is 90% more important to me. I don’t mean what it’s made of (although those plastic pages of some that refuse to stay on even a flat surface deserve a special place in Hell), but the content of the words and pictures in them.

Imagine this. You’re given a box full of pieces from a game you’ve never played, but someone’s taken the rulebook out. They then ask you to play the game and then tell them what you thought of it. Tricky, right? In fact, it’s impossible. You have no chance of guessing the designer’s intended game.

Now let’s imagine the polar opposite of this experience. You’re given the game’s pieces again, but this time you have the best rulebook ever written. It’s perfect. Like God opened Microsoft Word and tapped away at his keyboard. Again, I ask you to play the game and tell me what you thought of it. This time around, however, you’re able to tell me what you thought of the game because you know how to play it properly.

The third, and final scenario is the one I - and you - face every single time we open a game and try to play it for the first time. I doubt the rulebook is missing, and I doubt it’s the best ever written, which means it falls somewhere between the two extremes. I’ve got to learn the game from this book, try to play it as the designer and rulebook editor intended, and then get my thoughts down in words to tell the world. Or at least, the tiny percentage of the world that reads my reviews.

True, we live in a world where Paul Grogan and Rodney Smith exist. If you haven’t checked out their channels - Gaming Rules! and Watch It Played respectively - then you’re missing out on the best how-to-play videos on the internet. I’m a purist though, and in my opinion, I should be able to learn how to play my new game by reading the rulebook.

Do I dislike how-to-play videos? No, quite the opposite. If we’re playing a game at my local games night and it’s new to people, I’ll send links to instructional videos in our Discord server, so they can come to the evening at least partially prepared. When I do that though, I’m doing it with my Reviewer hat back on the hatstand.

A video should never be necessary to learn how to play a game. You might think that the times when you can’t access Youtube are in the minority now, with what seems like ubiquitous internet access, but that doesn’t mean you’re right. Try these scenarios. You’ve booked an internet-free cabin for a weekend retreat with the girls to unplug, and taken some games with you. Or maybe there’s a power cut so you’ve lit some candles, and - oh no! - the router’s off. Time for some face-to-face time with those people who live in the same building as you. You know - family.

Those edge cases aren’t the only things to consider though. Think about nations in the developing world with a burgeoning interest in tabletop games. India has a thriving scene, sub-Saharan Africa hosts AB Con, and there are incredible programmes such as the Chrysalis Youth Empowerment Network in Uganda, which promote and use board games. These are just a few examples of places where games are growing, where power cuts are commonplace, and where internet penetration is much lower. Here in the UK, for instance, 98% of the population has regular internet access. In India, that figure is closer to 50%1.

No, I’m not writing reviews just for those people, but the principle is the same. You should be able to learn to play your game from the rulebook.

As usual, I’ve gone off on a bit of a tangent, so let me get back to the point

A review should be done without learning from videos. I won’t allow myself to watch a how-to-play video or a playthrough on anybody’s channel. It gives me an unfair understanding of the game that I shouldn’t have. Some channels will somehow give reviews after having led playthroughs with people who’ve played the game, or even the game’s developers. How can you possibly give a fair review of something when you’ve had the privilege that others won’t have? You can’t.

The same is true of other people’s reviews. I give myself a blackout on a game’s reviews if I know I’m going to be covering it. It doesn’t matter how much you tell yourself you’ll ignore it, you will be influenced by what you read or watch. So reviews are another no-no for me. By depriving myself this way to stay true to myself, I do get a sneaky bit of delayed gratification.

Once I commit to the Publish button, and send an email to the people who provided me with the game, I might go and watch or read a review from my peers, or watch a how-to-play video to see if I got things right where I had questions. It’s very satisfying to find out after I’ve published something that I got the same experience from it as others.

It all leads to something I think is important for anyone giving their opinion of a game they didn’t like. Ask yourself these questions:

Is it a bad game with good rules, or could it be a good game that’s just got a bad rulebook? Can you tell the difference?

If you enjoyed this and my reviews over on Punchboard, consider supporting me on Ko-fi.