In Defense of Being A Loser

As we enter 2026, I've taken the excuse to pause and consider how I spend my time, what my goals are, and whether I'm still happy with all of that.

For the most part, I am! I have a good community around me, I'm working on a number of creative projects I'm really enjoying, and I have a vision for what my future looks like. The past few years have been pretty rough, but it's good to feel like I'm back on track.

On that note, you can expect to start seeing some very different content on PWNAO over the course of the year, as I use this space to start rambling about the things I enjoy in life beyond just miniature wargaming.

Wargaming still remains a big part of my life, though, and I'd like to put forward a case for something I don't see openly talked about in many miniature wargaming blogs or podcasts: namely, the case for being a loser.

The competitive scene has really exploded in recent years, across all sorts of systems. This has been good! I've been to a few tournaments now, met some really great people and had a wonderful time at all of them.

But. (You knew there'd be a but, didn't you?)

One thing I would caution is that this rise in the prominence of the competitive lens has led to the general assumption of most spaces talking about miniatures starting from the perspective that the most important thing for you when you put your models on the table is making sure that you come away with a victory. 

This isn't a dig at any one game system or community; it's an attitude that I have seen reflected over every wargame I've engaged with (and at this point, I've engaged with most of them).

Now at their heart these games will inevitably have a competitive element by virtue of the fact that there will be a winner and a loser (or a tie, which in most competitive spaces is even worse than a loss!). But, that final outcome is something that has never really been the primary draw for me to engage with these systems.

I would go so far as to say that most miniatures wargames are actually pretty bad as competitive experiences. The ideal for competitive games is for the system to allow mastery. By their nature, miniature games need to release new products in order to survive long-term. 

The 'meta' of these games has to be shaken up on a regular cycle, or the businesses that create and support them will dry up. This is less true when you play games which have already concluded and are no longer under active development, but the number of those which enable tournaments and a thriving community it is easy to find are vanishingly small (I think the only one which comes to mind right now is X-Wing?).

This isn't to say that you can't play these games competitively; you can and people clearly do. Indeed, if you're just there messing around and not even trying to win with the pieces you have on the table your opponent is probably justified in finding that annoying - the social compact says that we're here to play the game, and trying to win is part of that.

But! Where miniatures differ from most other forms of competitive gaming is in the extent to which it is a collaborative enterprise. When playing a video game, the computer does most of the adjudication for you. With miniatures, you need to take care of that; you need to take care of that. Sometimes with the assistance of a judge, sure, but just like with roleplaying games, the experience of actually playing a miniatures wargame is fundamentally about having a conversation with the other players.

This makes miniatures wargaming a social endeavor. It is also why the themes of these games are so important; every game that hits the table is a collaborative narrative built between the participants, where cool characters (or armies) that we love clash, conflict occurs, and there's an outcome.

That's what draws me to the hobby. Not the fact that winning is fun (though it can be, some of the worst games I've had have been ones where I ultimately won). I seek out those moments in a game where I can show my opponent something cool or unexpected, and leave them with a new appreciation for a facet of the game that they previously didn't have, or a cool story to tell about the outcome, whether they ultimately won or lost.

Just by the numbers, fewer than 50% of all games end in a win (after all, some tie) and I think if most people take a step back they will realise that it is more than just the pursuit of being in that band who always win which draws them to the table. There's the painting, building and collecting of course; but if you're actually putting yourself forward to play the game, it has to be that experience of having the conversation which draws you back.

Which is why I think fostering a good community who make it fun to play and put the experience of playing first is so important. At the end of the day, if all that matters is winning, then mathematically fewer than half of participants in all games played are going to have a good time.

And what's the point in a hobby like that?

HONK!