The scene is U.S. Nationals 2008, in Chicago, Illinois. On Wednesday night, before the event begins, a large group of the event staff is having dinner together in a Steak House in the downtown area. (I apologize, the name escapes me. It was fancy, though.) With 14 of us, we ended up split into two tables. At one table, we have Witney Williams, Renee Roub, and Scott Larrabee, from Wizards of the Coast Corporate, fellow writer and coverage specialist Rich Hagon, and Magic Artist Dave Kendall, among others. At the other table, we had myself, WotC Sales representative Doug Wheeler, Head Judge R. Jared Sylva, and Then-Judge Manager Bryan Zembruski, among others.
The restaurant served the meal in four courses. As we came to the third course, Doug turned to me, and inquired “Jeff, do you think I should I get the Tuna or the Lobster?”
“Well,” I replied. “Let me think. Lobster is typically considered better. Plus, even more importantly, we’re in Chicago, so I would go Lobster.”
“Why does that matter?” inquired Doug.
“Well, Illinois isn’t coastal, so your Tuna is going to be day-old, because it can’t be flown in live. They have to kill it, and then they ship it. Lobster can be thrown in a tank and brought in still alive. So, the lobster will still be fresh and tasty. That’s what I’m ordering”
Doug then proceeded to ask the waitress, who mentioned that she thought the tuna was good. So, Doug ordered the Tuna. Flash-forward to 10 minutes later, and as we’re eating, Doug mentions that his Tuna is pretty good. He cuts me off a piece and says “Hey, try this.” I tried it, and it was tasty.
“Okay, here, try some of my Lobster.” I countered. I proceeded to slice him off a piece in turn, which he quickly devoured.
“Mmm, that’s really good.” Doug conceded. “I think I made the Loser Choice. I mean the Tuna is good, but the Lobster, the Lobster is great. The Tuna was the Loser Choice.”
In every game of Magic you play, there are two options. The correct play, and everything else. There exists in a Perfect Game-state, a game state which you are striving for. Every decision you make while playing is your attempt to achieve that perfect game state. Meanwhile, your opponent is not only trying to get to their perfect game state, but to also prevent you from getting to yours. After all, Magic is an Interactive game. Truthfully, neither of you will get there, both because of the opponent’s interference, as well as your own miscues. You will simply not be able to make every correct decision. There is only one single path to achieve the perfect game state, and the odds of you walking it are extremely slim.
“Le Comte de Saint Germain said that his salvation, his ascension whereby he became an ascended master, was the result of two million right decisions that he made. Now, if you stop and think about that from a mathematical standpoint, you will see that it would take a man quite a few lifetimes to make two million right decisions.”
~Mark and Elizabeth Clare Prophet
For example, let’s assume you are playing Doran of the Many Colors. (Seen here from PT: Kyoto Top 4 finisher Brian Robinson) Turn 1, you lead Forest, but do you play Birds of Paradise of Noble Hierarch?
If you play the Hierarch, then you run the risk of not having Black on turn 2 for Doran. If you run the Birds, you have the risk of not triggering Exalted, and coming up short on your attacks. Which is the correct play? Obviously, you’ll have more information, such as the other cards in your hand, but the fact of the matter is, you are only guessing. You have to decide if you want to be a Consequentialist (The End justifies the Means) or an Intentionalist (The Means justify the End) in your decision tree. We’re going to spend some time examining these two theories to try and decide which is better suited to Magic.
First, let us delve into the two schools of thought in general. Consequentialism is the idea that, as long as the end result is desirable, then your decisions are correct. So, the End justifies the Means. No matter what you do in a game of Magic, if you win, you did it right. Not necessarily perfectly, but right. The obvious flaw here is that you may have done nothing right to win, but your opponent simply managed to lose despite your poor play. So, many would easily disregard this as the incorrect school of thought. However, the point must be made that, at the end of a match, if you made the wrong plays, and your opponent made the right plays, the only part that actually matters in that match is who gets the 2 next to their name on the match slip. Make all the right plays you want, if you lost the match, you’re still that much closer to elimination. Yes, you can account for luck, and you can account for the randomness that is built-in to the game. But there are no checks at the Pro Tour for “Player who made the right choices but still lost,” there are only checks for the top 64. The game and tournaments are results driven.
However, this method also does not make you a better player. As long as you are winning, for whatever reason, then you must assume you are playing correctly, even if you aren’t. You don’t actually learn, until you get beat. Meanwhile, your opponents are learning, because they’re losing, and you’ll quickly find the tables reversed. So, while this theory has merits, being purely consequentialist leads only to stagnation and eventual defeat. Thus, it is its own self-fulfilling doom.
Does that mean that we must then be intent driven? Not necessarily. The other side of this theory coin, that of the intentionalist method of thought, requires its own examination. In this mode, it is only your intent that matters. When you look at a decision, you must decide what is the right play based on what your intent is at that moment. If you make the right play, but for the wrong reason, then it is actually the wrong play. Let us revert back to the Noble Hierarch vs. Birds of Paradise question. Let’s assume that 80% of the time, it’s correct to lead with Noble Hierarch, and 20% of the time, it’s correct to lead with Birds of Paradise. By that thinking, in a vacuum, you should always play Noble Hierarch, because it is statistically the right play. If you play Birds of Paradise, even if it is one of those 20% times, you still played wrong. (Unless, of course, that current available information changes those numbers. We’re assuming it doesn’t, though) Even if it turns out right for you, you made the wrong play. Now, the obvious flaw here is what is stated previously, namely that you can make all the correct plays you want, but still lose the match and the tournament. PTQs have two places: The winner who gets an invite, and everyone else tied for dead last. There is one prize for one person. Everyone else lost, period. You can console yourself with your Top 8 pin, or your prize packs, but the name of the tournament says it all: Pro Tour Qualifier. If you didn’t qualify, you lost. As stated before, there is no invite for Most Correct Plays. There is only an invite for the winner.
On the flip side, by this theory, if you make the wrong play, but for the right reason, then it is correct. Following that same example, if you played Noble Hierarch because it is correct 80% of the time, that is the correct play, even if it this time was one of the 20% that the correct play was to cast Birds of Paradise. It doesn’t matter what the correct play is, only what play had the highest chance of being correct at that time.
So, we’re left with two theories, both of which are flawed. And the problem is, you never know which is the correct one to follow. You’ll hear many writers specifically say that we shouldn’t be so results-oriented. Yet at the same time, results are what we are so desirous of, what we are aiming for.
In truth, I believe we should be Intentionalists. The failing is not in luck, but in our Limited Information. (No, not you Sadin) We actually have no idea what the numbers are, and probably never will. There are too many variables to properly navigate and calculate what the absolute right play is. Magic is a very complex game, and we as players will never understand all of the various complexities of it. Does that mean we should be seeking a simplified game state? Only if you suck at Magic.
But wait, you say, didn’t you just say that we can’t understand all the complexities, and therefore, if we simplified as many of those variables, couldn’t we minimize our ignorance and make a closer decision? Yes, but then, so can your opponent. If you truly think you are better than your opponent, then you should want a more complex game state. Allow me to elaborate.
If you are a better player than your opponent, then who stands to lose more to an increasingly complex game state? They do, as their misplays will compound. You will also misplay, but less so than your opponent. This is one reason I like Planeswalkers a lot. Many players still don’t know how to interact with Planeswalkers, and when they do, they frequently do it wrong. Every Planeswalker I play is another chance for my opponent to make “the Loser Choice.” Every counter-spell I hold is another chance for my opponent to play the wrong spell. More decisions means more advantage for the better player. Zac Hill wrote about interaction advantage in a column a few weeks ago. The thesis and quick summary are quoted here:
“The thesis is this: the value of a given action can be measured by the number of favorable interactions it makes fungible relative to a theoretical maximum number of interactions of which your deck is capable, or the number of an opponent’s favorable interactions it correspondingly negates. That’s quite a mouthful, so I’ll summarize: You want the maximize the impact of what you’re doing and minimize the impact of what your opponent is doing, and you achieve that by interfacing with the opponent in favorable (to you) ways.”
~Zac Hill, Interaction Advantage
I agree with many of the points, but I propose a different take on the same theory.
My Thesis reads as such: The superior player overall gains advantage as the number of complex choices within the game increases. Thus, it is the goal of the superior player to create as many complex choices as possible. Conversely, the goal of the inferior player is to minimize complexity, so as to minimize the advantage of the superior player.
Let us look at a few examples of times when players added new layers of complexity to the game, and became advantaged. First up would be ELVES! from PT: Berlin. The deck added complexity in a few ways. One, it was a semi-rogue strategy (A number of teams had come up with the idea separately, but each mostly assumed the others hadn’t.) So, there was the complexity of a number of players not knowing the deck well, thus adding a layer of ignorant complexity. Furthermore, the decision tree for running ELVES! is not an easy one, and an educated opponent can easily disrupt it if they are more knowledgeable than the pilot. Finally, it added a virtual clock to the board in the form of potential combo, thus adding complexity by limiting the number of usable turns you would have to play something relevant.
Let us turn now to specific cards that were not fully understood and exploited until well after their release. Tarmogoyf is a recent example, a card which was rather low priced until finally being “Broken” by the Japanese months after release. Did you know Tarmogoyf was once a $5 card? All because we didn’t quite understand it. What about Necropotence? The card changed the dynamics of how we viewed life, learning to use it as another resource. Isn’t that the same thing we see Bitterblossom do? One lesson I have tried to teach my local players is the true value of Thoughtseize. To them, they see the full value in the discard. But what of the value of knowledge? I know the cards in your hand, and thus know a large portion of your potential plays. The benefit of Thoughtseize goes long past the first turn. I have minimized your potential advantage in Complexity by minimizing your potential effect on the board. I do not have to worry about tricks that I now know you or don’t have, and I can now effectively avoid the tricks you do have.
Now let’s use a live example. Patrick Chapin has often advocated drawing two cards instead of destroying your opponents Bitterblossom with Esper Charm. Why? Because Patrick believes he can do more with his two new cards than you can with your known Bitterblossom. Does that make it the right play for you? Maybe. It depends on whether you believe you can do more with your two new cards than your opponent can with their Bitterblossom. It becomes trickier with the discard option. In that case, you have to weigh the potential power of your opponent’s cards. (Unless an early game Thoughtseize gives you some partial knowledge.) Still, unless I can completely empty their hand, I must believe I can do more with my two cards than what they can do with their two worst cards, which should be what they discard.
In a competitive environment, the better player wants as many options as possible, because they believe they can make the better choice than their opponent, thus gaining advantage as more and more choices are made. The inferior player wants as few choices as possible, thus making the decision easier for them, and making it easier for them to maintain parity, thus keeping their chance to win higher. This does not mean you should give your opponent more choices because you believe they will throw the game away. If you’ll remember, the Tuna was still good. It was the wrong choice, but it was still a tasty Tuna. However, if you choose Lobster every time your opponent chooses Tuna, you’ll have a tasty prize indeed: A Win.
This is Jeff Phillips, reminding you: Don’t make the Loser Choice.