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 spitballs1 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
2
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 nonformalist 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 nonformalist 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
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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 gameplaying 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
4
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,
5
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 midflight, 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
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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
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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, gameplaying 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?
8
‘Having Committed’ to Acting 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.
In the cases of both the massively incompetent and uninvited players,
what is missing is an understanding of whether the individuals in question have
some commitment or obligation to act in accordance with the rules. The
massively incompetent player is a genuine soccer player, because she has
committed to acting in accordance with the rules of soccer. Whether she does in
fact act in accordance with the rules, or even knows the rules9, is beside the
point. She is simply playing very badly or incorrectly. Similarly, the uninvited
“player” is not a genuine player, because he does not share the obligation to
follow to rules in the way the actual players of the game do.
By ‘having committed’, I mean roughly that the individual in question has
contracted with the others in the game to act according to the rules. In virtue of
one’s contracting to play by the rules, one has a kind of obligation to act
according to the rules, as one does when one contracts to do anything. Part of
this contracting may well involve a commitment to the lusory and pre-lusory goals
of the activity in question.10 To be sure, the breaking of this contract will be
immoral in many cases – such as with that of the cheater – but it will not be in
others, as in the case of the massively incompetent player.
9
The idea that players in a game are in a sense contractually obliged to act
in accordance with the rules is not new. Kathleen Pearson (8) and Warren
Fraleigh (3, 4) have both used this idea to ground their claim that intentional rule
violations are wrong. They are right when they suggest that this is the feature of
cheating that makes it wrong. Cheaters violate their contract with the other
participants in the activity. The behavior is, in this respect, much like promise
breaking. This much seems correct.
What is new in the account presented here is that entering into such
commitments is both necessary and sufficient for determining game-playing.
Fraleigh may believe that such commitments are necessary:
Thus, if one agrees to engage in a particular sport, one by necessity
agrees to perform the actions prescribed by the constitutive rules. (3, p.
167 – his emphasis)
But it is clear that he believes such agreements are not sufficient. Further action
in accordance with the rules is also necessary:
The fact that no instance of a particular sport can occur without the kind of
actions prescribed by the constitutive rules of that sport is clear. (Ibid.)
This however, it a mistake.
A reason why one might believe that game-playing also requires acting in
accordance with the rules is that, since one is contracted to follow them, one
violates the contract when one fails to act accordingly – and, that this violation of
the contract invalidates the contract. If the contract is invalidated, then there is
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no playing, since the contract is necessary for there to be a game at all.11
However this view is mistaken, as it rests on a mistaken view of contracts.
If I break a contract with someone, this does not invalidate my obligations
under that contract. And, it also does not entail that I do not participate in the
activities prescribed in the contract. In a typical business contract, one party
may, intentionally or otherwise, violate the conditions set forth in the contract.
This does not entail either that the contract is not in force or that the parties are
no longer partners. If the aggrieved party discovers that her co-contractor has
not lived up to his obligations, she may seek to remind her partner of his
obligations, she may seek to coerce her fellow contractor to live up to those
obligations, she may seek restitution for the violations, she may decide that she
no longer has an obligation to live up to her end of the contract, or she may do
nothing at all. The contract is not automatically nullified by one party’s violation
of its stipulations.
To illustrate this further, consider a person who enters into a different kind
of contract, a marriage contract, under false pretenses. The groom may utter his
vows with a complete lack of sincerity. He may even plan to and succeed in
cheating on his wife at every opportunity. The fact that he has no plans
whatsoever to love, honor, and cherish his wife, or to live up to any of the
obligations (legal or otherwise) associated with marriage, does not entail that he
is not married. He is a marriage participant, though perhaps only minimally so,
and he is a participant simply because he is contractually obligated to act
according to the rules of marriage. His wife may seek divorce, or she may wish
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to continue in the marriage. They are not automatically divorced as a result of
his infidelity.
Of course, committing to play a game or sport is not entirely like entering
into legally binding contracts like marriage, but they are similar enough to make
the point here. Returning to the issue that opened this article, those who cheat
or otherwise (intentionally or unintentionally) violate the rules of a game can
indeed be players, if they have committed to following the rules. Actual rulefollowing is irrelevant as far as determining who is a participant in a game. Thus,
cheaters must be game players, for cheating is the breaking of a covenant with
the other players.12 If there is no covenant, then there is no playing – but then
there can be no cheating either.13
So, the view proposed here appears to give the more intuitively correct
answers concerning the massively incompetent and uninvited players. As with
the cheater, the massively incompetent player is also indeed a player, so long as
she has entered into this commitment to conform her behavior to the rules. That
she is nearly entirely ignorant of the rules does not matter - she committed to
following them by agreeing to play, perhaps unadvisedly so. The uninvited
“player” is not a participant however, because he has not so contracted with the
other players. Those engaging in pantomimes of games are not playing the
games because there is not the requisite sort of commitment to conform one’s
behavior to the rules – and so on with scrimmages and the like.14 The case of
the massively incompetent player shows that having committed to act in
12
accordance with the rules is sufficient for game-playing. The case of the
uninvited “player” shows that shows that such a commitment is necessary.
Committing
There is, of course, a further question to be discussed here. How does
one enter into such commitments? Clearly, becoming committed will often
involve verbally accepting to play at a given place and time – although this is
probably not sufficient. I may agree to play in a weekly basketball game, but if do
not show up, opting instead to play golf with other friends, my golfing activity
surely does not count as part of the basketball game. As with the case of
becoming married, as was famously pointed out by Austin (1), it will likely be the
case that there with be a range of contextually dependent behaviors
(performatives) that will give rise to such commitments. Perhaps, verbally
agreeing to play, showing up at game time, stepping onto the court, and so on
will be sufficient.
There will also be cases where no verbal communication is required. For
instance, it is common at playground basketball games that prospective players
“shoot” for teams. That is, players take turns shooting from the foul line, and the
first five players to make their shots constitute a team. Typically, all one needs to
do to become a player is to stand in line behind the foul line and make a shot. It
is then assumed by all parties from that point on that you are part of the team. It
is also assumed, by the way, that you know the rules of court.
13
Many of the details concerning these issues will vary from case, and they
may perhaps be viewed as part of the ethos of the game in question. Though, if
this is the case, the ethos of a game would not be parasitic on the formal rules
that define the game. Similarly, in the cases of very structured games, who is to
count as a legitimate participant (who has committed to acting in accordance with
the rules) may well be spelled out formally as a set of rules. However, this would
not seem to be the case concerning more casual instances of games. Further,
altering the conditions for which someone counts as a legitimate player would not
seem to alter the nature of the game itself. Choosing teams for a pickup
basketball game by shooting foul shots or counting off ‘1,2,1,2. . .’ (ones play the
twos), seems irrelevant in regard to determining whether the subsequent game is
a game of basketball. Thus, the conditions for playing a game should not be
considered part of the set of rules that define the game.
Undoubtedly, there will be penumbral cases about which there may be no
clear answer concerning whether a certain activity is an instance of a game type.
Consider a case where two friends agree to play a game of cribbage by saying,
‘Let’s play cribbage’, and then proceed to play as though they were playing a
game of gin rummy. Are they playing cribbage or gin rummy? Perhaps they are
just confused as to the name of the game they are playing. Or, perhaps they are
playing cribbage very, very badly. If the latter is the case, it points to an odd
consequence of my view – namely that all the rules defining a sport or game are
in a sense evaluative, in addition to any constitutive role they play. As should be
clear from the above discussion, that their behaviors are more consistent with the
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rules of gin rummy than cribbage cannot be decisive on the ontological matter
(though it may be useful epistemologically). There may be other troubling cases.
For instance, it seems possible that miscommunication could lead to two players
playing together, yet playing different games because they committed to different
sets of rules. I leave a full discussion of these issues for another time.
Concluding Thoughts
To be sure, much more needs to be said concerning the nature of
commitment and how one becomes so committed. In addition, something should
be said about how one can become excused from one’s commitments. Those
who intentionally break their covenant (cheaters) will, if discovered, be let out of
their commitment (and thus become uninvited players), and massively
incompetent players may be asked to leave the game. Conversely, uninvited
players may become invited. Undoubtedly, these issues need to be pursued
further.
However, the view defended here may perhaps be extended to cover
other issues concerning games. I have in mind Kripke’s famous (or infamous)
discussion of Wittgenstein on language games (5). Recall that, according to
Kripke, Wittgenstein suggests that there is no fact of the matter concerning what
language game one is playing, because there is no fact of the matter concerning
what rules one is following in using language. As with formalists above, it
appears that Wittgenstein is assuming that a language is defined by its rules of
use, and that playing a language game reduces to following the rules. The
account defended above suggests a different way to approach the skeptical
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problem. If playing a language game is a matter, not of following the rules of the
language, but rather of being committed to acting in accordance with them, then
whether or not there is a fact of the matter concerning our rule-following is beside
the point. The burden is then on identifying how one becomes committed to
following the rules of a language game.
Notes
1
Spitballs are those pitches that are thrown after having some foreign substance
applied to the ball, causing it to do unpredictable things.
2It is interesting that, on an ethos account, it is an open question as to whether or
not Perry was playing baseball.
3 This debate also encompasses a very involved discussion of intentional rule
violations for tactical reasons – such as fouling at the end of basketball games in
order to regain possession of the ball. See Fraleigh (3, 4) and Pearson (8) for just
a few examples.
4 D’Agostino is equivocal on this point, as he seems to not make the distinction
between ‘acting in accordance with’ and ‘acting from’. See (1), pp. 42 and 43.
5 Anyone who doubts this has surely not attended a youth soccer game.
6 If the use of the word ‘player’ seems too out of place concerning cheaters and
the like, perhaps ‘participant’ would be more appropriate.
7At least, the standard non-formalist accounts. If the ethos of a game includes
who counts as a player, than perhaps this account can handle such cases. More
on this later.
8 In what follows, when I speak of ‘committing to acting in accordance with the
rules’, this should be taken to include acting in accordance with a game’s ethos
as well. My point here is not to choose sides on the formalist/non-formalist
debate.
9 It is surely possible to commit oneself to the rules without knowing the rules. If
one doubts this, consider the en passant rule again. The great majority of casual
chess players are unaware of this rule, though nearly every chess game is in
accordance with the rule. Players commit themselves to this rule, whether they
know it or not, by agreeing to play chess.
I prefer the word ‘committed’ over ‘obligated’, ‘contracted’, or ‘agreed’, because
‘obligated’ is too moralistic for my purposes here, ‘contracted’ too legalistic, and ‘agreed’
not strong enough.
10
This appears to be the view of Fraleigh and Pearson. Consider Fraleigh’s
statement, ‘Pearson and Fraleigh both state that cheating denies the implicit
agreement or contract into which competitors enter and, accordingly, negates the
agreed upon contest. (3, p. 169 – my emphasis).
11
16
12
Or perhaps with oneself, in the case of, say, cheating at solitaire.
As to whether or not cheaters can be winners, it may well be the case that
winning, as opposed to playing, requires playing by the rules. But this issue is
not the fundamental one concerning us here
14 There may of course be separate rules governing practices.
13
References
1.
Austin, J. L. How to do things with Words. Harvard University Press.
Cambridge, Mass. 1962.
2.
D’Agostino, Fred. ‘The Ethos of Games’. . In Philosophical Inquiry Sport,
2nd ed. Morgan and Meier, eds. Human Kinetics. Champaign, IL.
1995.pp. 42-49.
3
Fraleigh, Warren. ‘Intentional Rules Violations – One More Time’. Journal
of the Philosophy of Sport. XXX, 2003, pp. 166-176.
4.
Fraleigh, Warren. ‘Why the Good Foul is Not Good’. In Philosophical
Inquiry Sport, 2nd ed. Morgan and Meier, eds. Human Kinetics.
Champaign, IL. 1995. pp. 185 187.
5.
Kripke, Saul. Wittgenstein on Rules and Private Language. Harvard
University Press. Cambridge, MA. 1982.
6.
Morgan, William. ‘The Logical Incompatibility Thesis and Rules: A
Reconsideration of Formalism as an Account of Games’. In Philosophical
Inquiry Sport, 2nd ed. Morgan and Meier, eds. Human Kinetics.
Champaign, IL. 1995. pp. 50-64.
7.
Morgan and Meier. Philosophical Inquiry in Sport. Human Kinetics.
Champaign, IL. 1995.
8.
Pearson, Kathleen. ‘Deception, Sportsmanship, and Ethics’. In
Philosophical Inquiry Sport, 2nd ed. Morgan and Meier, eds. Human
Kinetics.
Champaign, IL. 1995. pp. 183 184.
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