Over the past decade, session zero has become an RPG mainstay. This is a triumph for campaign followthrough and table comfort I have been happy to support. Also, I've come to release I hate it.
What is Session Zero?
Session zero is a meeting before a campaign starts to set player expectations. Over the past few months, I happened to have several session zeroes with friends and strangers alike. This gave me a broader sense of how session zeroes are done, what they have in common, and how well they work.
I found they typically follow the same structure: after a brief introduction, there are two main phases. First, players fill out a topic consent checklist (usually the one by Monte Cook Games). Then, they fill out character sheets together. When they're done, players leave to hang out together or enjoy their evening alone.
I also noticed a problem: by the end of almost every session zero, I felt...bad. And I wasn't the only one.
Diagnosing the Cause
When each session zero wrapped, I felt mildly anxious. This is odd. To me (and probably you, reading this) TTRPGs are my hobby. I enjoy them, they relax me, and I like playing with friends old and new. But I found myself seeking another activity after just to unwind. Why? I went through each step of my experiences to find out.
Was it the introductions? Social anxiety may be a factor for some players, but is not a big personal struggle. Meeting new people can be scary, of course. But half the time, I played with trusted old friends where this phase didn't apply at all. At this stage, I still felt fine. Not it.
Was it the character sheet creation? Paperwork can be draining. So many decisions can be mentally taxing. The pressure to understand rules under a time limit in front of people echoes school trauma for some players, too. However, assisted digital character creators are becoming more common, which reduce the stress. But even in familiar systems where sheets were no personal trouble, the feeling persisted.
Could it be the consent checklists? The tool meant to reduce stressful table moments in the first place? This seemed to track, but why? As I said, most tables seemed to use the Monte Cook consent checklist. For what it's worth, this is a good tool; exceptional for its time. But its catch-all approach is a double-edged sword.
Bad Thought Overload
I apologize for the following paragraph. Now, how do you feel about spiders? Floods? Cannibalism? Abortion? Take a deep breath. One can imagine telling a worthwhile story exploring any of these topics in an appropriate, mature way. But I have yet to find any story, roleplay or otherwise, that involves the breadth of this consent checklist.
I find myself less bothered by sensitive content than most; just a personal preference. However, I don't think I'm immune to the overall impact of this exercise. I don't think human minds are meant to emotionally consider such a creative range of upsetting topics in so short a time.
If there are reasonably likely sensitive topics in the scope of a story, it makes sense to screen player comfort and interest. It can be worth considering a dark topic for the sake of a narrative payoff, or even to discuss if it's worth doing later. But what justifies the time and stress of running through so many topics that won't come up anyway? In my experience, the mental "cost" is about five times what we get out of it.
I know the benefits of session zero. But when we ask ourselves, "is this worth the trouble?", I can see why some grognard types pass on it entirely. This is a shame. They are missing out, but we can do more to make it an easier sell.
The Domino Effect
While the rapid topic gauntlet adds some negativity to everyone's thought process, the character creation follow up does nothing to help. By keeping players siloed in contemplation and decision-making, there's no good opportunity to raise the mood until a session zero is practically over. What follows becomes mental work under emotional stress.
Moreover, this order created an adverse incentive structure: players were siloed, burning out as character creation approached, on edge, and eager to get it over with. It was common to see at least one player leave early, after racing through character creation or resolving to just do it later. This led to a staggered experience.
Is this analysis full of nitpicks for the sake of optimizing our current and future emotional experience? Of course. But isn't that what session zero is all about? The common formula could do more to define table expectations without the exhaustion.
In Part 2, we'll explore a reformed model for a better session zero: more player enjoyment and planning potential at a lower emotional cost.