Why I've Never Played Exploding Kittens
Games out now are better, the discourse is worse, let's talk about why
Lots of people will be surprised when I haven’t played (usually popular) game X. I’m the “game guy”, so of course I must’ve played it. In this case that game is Exploding Kittens.
Long Pause
For some context, Exploding Kittens is a very popular card game that feels like a mix of Uno and hot potato with a large side dish of chaos. The basic gist is you’re trying to avoid the exploding kitten cards and thereby getting out.1 The revenue of the game is measured in the 10s of millions per year, and is available at most major retailers.
The answer, in this case is no. I haven’t played X popular game. But occasionally the answer might be, I’ve played once, but I don’t hate it but I don’t really like it.
The next question is of course, “Do you think it’s bad?” And the implication here is that because I’ve played so many games I must have snobby expectations about “mainstream games”.
The short answer to this is, I really don’t. But the longer answer is curious and interesting. As in, where exactly did this idea that in order to be into a hobby (in this case the gaming hobby) you have to look down on normal games.
The Missing Middle
I don’t think this phenomenon is unique to me or to games. There’s a yawning chasm that’s opened up between people who do something occasionally and people who are into that thing. In part because of the flood of information available and in part because of the particular and strange media environment we find ourselves in.
Some of this is really earned. I’ve seen that the word “muggle” has been used by hobbyist gamers to describe people who play “regular” games. Which is… frankly silly and demeaning. But I think the skepticism goes the other way as well. What exactly is it that makes someone not interested in playing a game beyond judgement or disdain towards that game?
Part of this, I think is that there are fewer people who are moderately interested in games (books/movies/etc.) but that don’t make it part of their identity. So the connective tissue between the various levels of interest has disappeared. There are fewer social checkpoints between “this gaming thing is interesting” and “I follow youtubers to figure out the newest releases, kickstarters, and trends”. This seems true of hobbies generally as well. If you want to do a thing well you better optimize it.
What’s strange about this for board games is that, at this current moment, mainstream board games are many orders better than the games they’re replacing, both in terms of artistic merit and interest. Exploding Kittens, which I would describe as a mashup of Magic the Gathering and Uno is just… miles ahead from basically anything Hasbro discharged during my childhood. While I fondly remember the aesthetic of Aggravation,
that game was… hot trash. Is Monopoly is a good game? Maybe? but only if you play the way no one wants to play. Which is the sign of a… bad game.2
Exploding Kittens is not only good, but the publisher also has a very large line of games that I would call broadly sharp, the owners seem incredibly thoughtful and caring about the hobby, and they’ve worked with prestige designers, like Eric Lang (Hitting Each Other With Fake Swords). Eric Lang has also partnered with Hasbro on an approachable worker placement style game called Life in Runeterra. From a production perspective, the gap between hobbyist and mainstream does not seem so wide.
So the issue here isn’t that games being played by people aren’t “artistic” enough or are “too commercial”, it’s the the types of games that tend to get played by either group share little in common outside of the people that make them (ironically). If you’re a normie you play Werewolf and if you’re a hobbyist you play Blood on the Clocktower. What a weird state to be in.
What’s the Problem with all of this?
In one sense, there really is none. At least from a “content” perspective, more people are getting higher quality games than ever. In another sense, no one really seems to appreciate that fact given the massive disparities in how different groups of people approach games. The games are better, the discourse is worse. The social situation genuinely seems quite morose in some sense. It doesn’t seem healthy or sustainable for certain types of games to be published for an exclusive group of people and for the dividing lines between those audiences to be so sharp or so severe.
I think there’s an idea that what drives hobbyists is a search for especially obscure games. Games that “you can’t hear about” elsewhere. But that’s basically untrue. Most of the popular board games get highlighted over and over again on social media. But unless your algorithm is tuned to that, you’re literally never going to hear about them.
And this makes it challenging (impossible?) to talk about artistic interests with anyone who isn’t already “into” that thing. This isn’t a critique of anyone who is into or out of any given interest. It is a broad and deep problem. With custom print runs, crowd funding and online communities it’s possible for designers to hone in on a specific theme and just hammer that theme over and over again. Just look at romance novels in publishing or trick taking in board games. Or roguelikes in video games. The point isn’t that any of these are bad, it’s that the explosion and recombination of these themes makes it possible to deliver this to target someone’s niche interests.
The idea of releasing a piece of art that aims for commercial and critical viability across a broad swath of people seems almost ancient at this point. There’s little incentive for publishers to broaden their scope slightly. You either want to go really wide (mass market) or really deep (hobbyist).
Gaming Omnivore
Ok, so let’s actually answer the question, why have I never played Exploding Kittens.
The thing that I look for in games is mechanical novelty.3 I basically try to own games that cover a wide spectrum of mechanics and ideas, at a level where they can be played in 30-60 minutes and taught to most anyone. I also have a strong bias towards designers who have an interesting point of view on games.
So Exploding Kittens sits in a place between not being novel enough or having similar experiences that get replaced by other games I personally enjoy more. It’s not a value judgment. If I was in the mood to play games and that was the game that people wanted to play. I would happily enjoy it. I’ve enjoyed other Exploding Kittens published games like Mantis and Poetry for Neanderthals. I can appreciate the cleverness and craft in the rules, but I’m not going out of my way to play them either.
If I have one (very minor) critique of these games, it’s that they can feel overly programmed. They tend to bias towards every turn feeling wild and exciting (understandable as an entertainment product) which reduces the amount of control that players have. This, in turn, reduces the amount you can learn about other people while you play the game.
For that reason, if I’m going to play a card game, I’ll probably suggest something like Cockroach Poker or Don’t Llama. And if I’m looking for a wild sort of luck game I might recommend something like Spots or King of Tokyo. Or if I want to vibe I might pick something like Wavelength or Decrypto.
My Beef with NYT Games
I do, however, have some beef with NYT Games.
It’s not that any of the games are bad, it’s more just that they feel like the classy version of Candy Crush. They get marketed as deeply intellectual pursuits, but I’m pretty skeptical that they “labelling on the tin” is particular accurate. To be clear, I’m not judging anyone who loves Wordle or Connections, but I do think there’s a large gap between how those games want to make you feel about playing them, and what they’re doing under the hood.
Their games reward you for continued investment in the New York Times more than they challenge you or help you grow (even in small ways). When I play connections I feel like my goal is to try to figure out why the NYT editor would group things a certain way. That isn’t bad, but it does leave me wondering why I should spend my time caring. And the motivation most of the time is “because if I’m smart enough to figure out the NYT games I must be a sharp cookie”. Which… I think we can do better with our lives.
It’s part of why I talk up Puzzmo.com so much. I think their vision and mission is way more in line with the sort of ideals that the Times pretends to espouse. Puzzmo has a manifesto on their website and I highly recommend taking a look at it.
My personal favorite:
Players, not users
Games must never trick you out of your time. You should never wonder “what am I even doing with my life?” when you play a game. Good games are a collaborator to you in the pursuit of fun. Good games inspire curiosity.
A good daily game should be about forming a habit, it should be a ritual that enriches your life. The habit should be earned, not guaranteed.
More Curiosity
If I had one plea to the “non-hobbyist” gamers, it would be for a smidge more curiosity and patience for games that aren’t mainstream. I know in this world asking for more of anything feels like a slog. It’s worth risking experiencing a game that’s less than ideal to have the opportunity for something that’s really spectacular. At least every once in a while.
But the games now, they’re really good. Even the obscure ones. Even with their slightly more rough edges I’m quite positive you will get back out more than what you put in. The idea here isn’t to give up Exploding Kittens or Happy Salmon. Not by any stretch. It’s just to maybe let something like Cockroach Poker or Rebel Princesses, or The Gang sit alongside them.
The stat I’ll leave you with is that in 2024, only 7% of time spent playing a Steam (computer) game was dedicated to a game that had been released that year. The artists and designers who make these games (and even the big ones are quite small, comparatively) aren’t doing this because they want more critical acclaim or because they feel better. It is genuine love for the form and the craft. And I think that’s a value worth cultivating.
Three Games to Leave You With
Here’s a board game, a computer game, and a puzzle game. They’re all games that are maximally approachable, probably not widely known and definitely reward people for a little bit of investment and sticking with the rules.
Paku Paku
Paku Paku is a really silly game. It’s about trying to roll dice as fast as possible and then stack bowls and plates on top of each other based on what comes up. It’s fast and frenetic and leaves everyone giggling. Moment for moment in terms of hilarious fun, it’s really tough to beat.
King of the Bridge
This is a more… cerebral game? If you can call it that. It definitely has rough edges. In fact, the game could almost be called 1 giant rough edge. You’re playing a game of chess against a troll, but the rules aren’t exactly the same, and also sometimes the troll cheats. Your goal is to figure out the rules to the game (the book on the right of the board will fill in as you do) and pay attention so you can catch the troll in a lie. It’s short enough that if you stick with it you will be rewarded.
Kartoodle
Kartoodle is an inventive (and pretty easy) puzzle game with a lot of heart. You’re trying to draw a path from the tax cab to the house, but you have to follow the rules of where you can turn and how many squares you have to cross through.
Having not played the game, I did have to google to figure this all out.
This history of Monopoly and the Landlords Game not withstanding here. You can find a lot out by googling but I might recommend Tim Clare’s The Game Changers for an excellent summary. (And the rest of the book is great too)
Outside of card drafting games, which god help me I have an addiction to