tThe words hit players of the world’s favorite tabletop role-playing game like a magic missile straight to the heart. “Dungeons & Dragons has never been more popular, and we have really big fans and engagement,” said Cynthia Williams, former CEO of D&D publisher Wizards of the Coast, in a December 2022 “investor-focused” webinar. . “But the brand is really under-monetized.”
In the run-up to D&D’s 50th birthday this year, the brand’s tattoo has been flowing strongly. Amid the ongoing celebrations, Williams’ comments have taken on the tone of a terrible prophecy being fulfilled in the most vulgar way imaginable. D&D is “monetizing” like never before, and it’s terrifying to behold.
Wizards of the Coast (part of the Hasbro toy empire) has unveiled a Lego Dungeon & Dragons set, with a dragon-sized prize to match. It has also announced a partnership with sneaker brand Converse, with designs inspired by the original D&D manuals from half a century ago. These products add to an ever-expanding avalanche of merchandise. Roll it up, roll it up for your D&D Dragonfire Roast breakfast bowls, table lamps, and “single origin coffee.”
Merchandising is a key component of the 21st century geek world. Lego, sneakers, and table lamps are precisely the kind of products you’d expect to accompany, say, a new Avengers or Star Wars movie. It is part of what we could call the “Baby Groot economy.”
But D&D is not Marvel. In attempting to “monetize the brand,” Wizards has made a terrible miscalculation. In that famous webinar, Williams lamented that while Dungeon Masters (players who referee game sessions) make up 20% of the user base, they account for the majority of the spending (i.e. they buy all those expensive books of rules). Joining her on the call, Hasbro CEO Chris Cocks outlined a plan to turn D&D into a “four-quadrant” brand “that has a consciousness similar to that of, say, The Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter”.
What no one seems to understand is that D&D can never be the next Harry Potter. This is because D&D is not a franchise, lifestyle brand, or marketing opportunity. It’s a community of people who largely make up their adventures for themselves. And you can’t monetize that. Despite all the recent hype surrounding the game, the D&D experience has essentially remained unchanged since it first emerged from co-creators Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson’s basement in 1974.
These are friends who meet every week. They hang out, roll dice, and share the excitement of exploring an abandoned dwarven mine or rescuing a cousin of one of the cultist group camped in the woods outside the city. You can’t put a price on that. It’s like trying to monetize friendship.
That new D&D Lego set is an example of how little Wizards and Hasbro understand their player base. At first glance, the box for “The Tale of the Red Dragon” seems full of promise. It features a brick fortress, a massive dragon, square-headed adventurers, and some iconic D&D monsters, including the Owlbear, the Displacer Beast, and the Beholder. There’s even a linked adventure that uses the included figures.
Oh wow, you’re thinking: D&D Lego. What a fantastic way to introduce children to the hobby. The problem is that this deluxe box costs £314, about the cost of six D&D Player’s Manuals.
Wizards’ problem is that it has already burned much of the goodwill of its user base after a controversy last year over plans to reverse a policy dating back to 2000, taking away independent creators’ freedom to use the D&D rules as they see fit. Leaked proposals showed that Wizards intended to require a 25% royalty on the income of creators with annual sales over $750,000 and reserve the right to reuse any content created under the license. “Big games” were coming for the little one.
That saga created a big gap between the publisher and the players. Many in the community now perceive Wizards not as the custodian of a game it acquired in 1997, but as capitalist necromancers intent on whipping D&D for all it’s worth.
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There was a shout and Wizards came down. Twelve months later, D&D’s 50th anniversary is here, and it’s telling how Wizards is celebrating: with Lego and sneakers. Yes, commemorative books are on the way, along with an updated ruleset that Wizards has dubbed “One D&D.” But few were clamoring for a new edition of D&D, and many felt it was a money-making exercise. (In its defense, Wizards has said that its “One D&D” books will be compatible with the “Fifth Edition” that everyone is currently playing.)
We are in boom times for tabletop role-playing games. There has never been so much variety in games: from Vaesen’s steampunk folk horror of Free League to “rules-light” systems like Mausritter or Mörk Borg. What the publishers of these titles understand is that it takes time to cultivate a player base and that the relationship is ongoing.
Compare that to D&D’s onslaught of cheesy merch and you’ll have to worry. Forget about monetization. The crucial currency in the tabletop hobby is the goodwill of the players. In the midst of a trash storm, Wizards seems determined to sacrifice a 50-year legacy on the altar of unbridled corporate greed.