The Australians Of The Year Walk is a pathway and series of plinths along the shore of Lake Burleigh-Griffin in the National Capital, Canberra. Each plinth honors the recipients of the award in one of the years that it has been bestowed, and the plinths are arranged to form the National Anthem in musical notation.
Photo Credit: Dietmar Rabich / Wikimedia Commons / “Canberra (AU), Australians of the Year Walk — 2019 — 1806” / CC BY-SA 4.0, zoom by Mike

Today is a Public Holiday in Australia, so I’m posting something far more concise than usual.

The reason for the Public Holiday is that yesterday was Australia Day, which celebrates the arrival of white colonists from Britain, most of them transportees, in 1788 – the equivalent of the American 4th of July.

While the country had been inhabited for about 65,000 years before this event, the indigenous population was structured at a more tribal level. For better or worse, the arrival of the First Fleet set the populace on an inevitable path to a national identity and a national government.

It is for this reason that the date is celebrated, though it is also true that this also set the population on a path of inevitable conflict between the indigenous social structures and those of the colonists. Heavy-handed paternalism and racially biased beliefs would lead to many mistakes of policy and neglect, from which the nation still struggles to recover.

Personally, I feel that it is important to remember the history, warts and all, as part of the celebration. If we are to remember all the good that has resulted, we also need to acknowledge the harm that was done.

Unfortunately, there are some who use that past harm as a divisive issue, inhibiting attempts to use the date as a day of healing between the two communities. Still, little by little, and rarely marked by large or events or conspicuous changes, progress is being made. And, in addition to the national achievements of the past, that is what I celebrate – in my own quiet little way.

Honoring Service

Australia Day is also, traditionally, one of the two days on which the government honors those who have demonstrated gallantry, bravery, distinguished service, meritorious service, and long service to the citizens of Australia.

Unlike the national honors of many other countries, nominations from individuals and local communities are welcome. All nominations are investigated for worthiness, regardless of the source or the number of people who have nominated that individual. Until that investigation is complete, and the decision to grant the honor if it will be accepted (some refuse), the prospective honoree usually doesn’t even know that they have been nominated, and may never know who actually put their name forward in the first place.

As always, there were some awards which were controversial, and it is on those that the reactionaries on social media have obsessed; but, by a margin of more than fifty to one, the majority are ordinary citizens only known to their family, friends, and within their profession. There are usually some celebrities of song, stage, screen, and sport that will be more widely recognized by name alone. The three most likely to be known by the majority of my readers, being from North America or Europe, are Keith Urban, Glenn Shorrock (original lead singer of the Little River Band) and Hugo Weaving – that’s three from a list of more than 2500 names.

There’s always a lot of media speculation about some of the more prestigious awards, like the Australian Of The Year, and so the topic was in the back of my mind on Saturday.

Honoring Contributions

Saturday was the day of the first session for 2020 of my superhero campaign. One of my players was showing his copy of the new Robotech RPG, to which he had provided content, with not unjustified pride. Sure enough, there was his name, in the “Special Thanks” section.

Right away, a problem was evident. Like most of the big RPG projects these days, the production of the Robotech book had been financed via Kickstarter, and virtually every reward tier of the fundraising earned the buyer their name in the book.

The names were placed in a different section on the same page. But there was no way to tell whether they were there for writing part of the rules, for play-testing the game, or for supporting the production financially. All you could tell was they weren’t the principle author or the principle editor.

Name recognition is very important in RPGs, as it is in any community of interests. There are names that I recognize instantly – Gary Gygax, Dave Arneson, Monte Cook, Skip Williams (amongst others) – and with that name comes a level of earned respect for past achievements that put the latest product to which their name has been attached into a new light (and yes, I know the first two names on that list have passed away).

It was one of Campaign Mastery co-founder Johnn Four’s proudest achievements to have contributed to the Official Rules in an official D&D rule-book (DMG II). Having his name in the credits was a Noteworthy Achievement in his eyes. It gave him instant credibility – and when he started Roleplaying Tips and later Campaign Mastery, when he co-published Assassin’s Amulet, or any of this other gaming books, that name recognition and credibility grew, even as it helped imbue those projects with instant cred.

A Kickstarter Conundrum

That’s a problem because such contributions are clouded and even obfuscated by the inclusion of backer’s names. It’s only fair that financial backers get their due recognition – without them, the product would not exist – but I don’t consider “Backed multiple RPG Kickstarters” to be a qualification as an RPG writer. Heck, it qualifies you as a GM only by implication.

The two sets of names need to be kept separate, treated differently, handled differently, and presented differently – to give credit where it is due, and to begin earning name recognition for the incoming next generation of RPG writers (there always is one).

There is also the wider question of whether or not being named in the publication has now reached the point of being so ubiquitous that it makes us undervalue simply being name-checked. Should we, in fact, place a higher premium on getting your name in print?

It’s an easy reward to fulfill, and therein lies both its attractiveness to prospective publishers and the problem. It’s also become something of a default expectation, because it is so ubiquitous – a result of that attractiveness.

A little more thought might present alternatives – getting a planet or a minor character named after you, fr example, or a ship. If your product includes a scene at a market or bazaar, perhaps the backer’s names can be used for the merchants and their NPC customers. You may not have to say that much more about them – vendor, type of produce, a couple of lines on the type of activity at the stall, and a list of the customers involved.

Tombstones in the cemetery. Prisoners in the jail cells. Lost explorers. Farmers and unimportant townspeople (in terms of the plot). A list of the aides and junior officers reporting to senior NPCs in the military hierarchy. Latinized, a list of the “formal names” of some of the exotic plants of a greenhouse, or a Druid’s Grove. The unremarkable generic crowd in a bar scene. The names of Geographic features. Get creative, and let actually being name-dropped mean something.

Or, choose to be explicit: I’ve seen that done a number of times. “Backers, without whom, etc” and a long list of names, buried at the back. Nothing wrong with that.

All I’m suggesting is that people think about it – because it’s not as trivial a question as it might seem.

And, as for the proud contributor who got the “Special Thanks”, I’m told that he will get a more substantive credit in a forthcoming volume.


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