Gary Gygax was right all along!


A few decades ago, a psychologist by the name of Hans Eysenck carried out research showing that political values can’t simply be described by a single left-right axis with liberals on the left, moderates in the middle, and conservatives on the right. What he found was that political attitudes actually contained a second component of tenderness versus toughness. Tender political values include a positive outlook on human nature and a preference for peace, religion, and democracy, while a tough political outlook is more cynical about human nature with more negative attitude towards democracy, and prefers war, sexual freedom, and harsh punishments. Eysenck’s data allowed him to describe political beliefs on a two-dimensional graph, represented below.

Tough liberals
(screaming Marxists)


(sissy humanitarians)
Tender liberals

Tough conservatives
(jack-booted fascists)


(the religious right)
Tender conservatives


But just what is it that separates tough and tender-minded people? Research finds that members of tough-minded political groups, such as communists and fascists, tend to score very high on "aggression," and very high in "dominance," compared to more tender-minded control groups. The left-right axis describes the degree to which people value their nation and its values, with liberals more likely to consider religion outdated, and to desire to help members from other societies, while conservatives tend to view conscientious objectors as traitors and tend to support statements like "my country right or wrong."

All of this is fully documented in Genes, Culture, and Personality, a 1989 book by Eaves, Eysenck, and Martin, and is available for perusal at most college libraries. But where have we heard this before?

On page 23 of the 1st Edition Dungeon Master’s Guide, Gary Gygax writes of character alignment, saying, "…law dictates that order and organization is necessary and desirable, while chaos holds the opposite view. Law generally supports the group as more important than the individual, while chaos promotes the individual over the group." He goes on: "basically stated, the tenets of good are human rights… cruelty and suffering are undesirable. Evil, on the other hand, does not concern itself with rights or happiness; purpose is the determinant."

In other words, if we take Eysenck’s political diagram, and divide each axis into three parts instead of two…

Tough
Liberal

Liberal

Tender
Liberal

Tough-minded


Moderate


Tender-minded

Tough
Conservative

Conservative

Tender
Conservative


And then rotate the figure…

Tender
Conservative

Conservative

Tough
Conservative

Tender-minded


Moderate


Tough-minded

Tender
Liberal

Liberal

Tough
Liberal


And then squint really hard, we see:

Lawful
Good

Lawful
Neutral

Lawful
Evil

Neutral
Good

True
Neutral

Neutral
Evil

Chaotic
Good

Chaotic
Neutral

Chaotic
Evil

Evidently, conservatism and law map together against liberalism and chaos, just as tender-mindedness and good map together against tough-mindedness and evil. But does this really show that Gygax’ alignment graph has anything to do with genuine political beliefs? To test whether this really seems accurate, let us set up a few thought experiments.


Thought experiment one: Punishment by flogging

Four adventurers, thrown together through some implausible set of circumstances, set out for the nearest dungeon. While there, they hope to kill monsters and accumulate experience points and gold coins, in order that they may gain levels of power and purchase better equipment, for the purposes of killing more, stronger monsters, thus acquiring even more experience points and more treasure, allowing them to attain even greater levels of power and obtain yet more amazing equipment, thereby being able to slay even mightier monsters yet, in a pointless and time consuming exercise without end. They are:

Stannithus, the lawful-good paladin
Anianel, the chaotic-good elf bard
Evulsifer, the lawful-evil fighter, and
Bob, the chaotic-evil thief

Due to a clerical oversight on the part of Odo the innkeeper, our four heroes of questionable character find themselves without travelling accommodations. While they specifically spoke with the inkeeper on the matter the night before, signed a request form for tickets via the river barge, and paid over a sum of eight gold pieces in total, Odo admits that he has forgotten to obtain these tickets. With a cavalier gesture, he hands them back their eight gold pieces and bids them farewell. The question is, how do they each react?

Stannithus, the paladin, would be uncomfortable at being waved away in such a fashion. He would likely take the opportunity to deliver a brief sermon on laziness and the virtue of keeping one’s word.

Anianel, the bard, would not see the matter as especially important. While it is a genuinely annoying inconvenience, she is happy to forgive the man and let the matter drop; after all, he did give back their money.

Evulsifer, however, is disgusted. Grasping Odo by his beard, he drags him out into the street and flogs him with the flat of his sword, as a warning to other incompetents who might be tempted to shirk their obligations.

Lastly, Bob is uninterested in the entire argument. He takes the opportunity to rob Odo’s inn while everyone else is outside.

How true is this to Eysenck’s model? Perfectly true, in fact—tough minded conservatives are most likely to endorse flogging, the death penalty, and the statement, "spare the rod, spoil the child."


Thought experiment two: Traveling without a ticket

After the stressful events outside the inn have resolved themselves, the party moves on to the river, where a crowd of people are waiting as the barge arrives. All four of our mighty adventurers wish to travel on the river, but the question is, which one of them would find it most reprehensible to sneak on board the river barge without a ticket?

Stannithus, being lawful good, would be offended at the merest idea of cheating someone out of funds due to him. He would be strongly in opposition to this.

Anianel, not feeling especially bound by financial obligations, might be willing to go along with it, but at the same time would likely feel compelled to make up for her debt in some way (quite likely by singing out of tune "to entertain the shipmaster’s passengers.")

Evulsifer, while unworried about the shipmaster, would nevertheless insist that proper legal protocol be observed, and would refuse to travel illegally.

Meanwhile, Bob, being chaotic evil, has already sneaked on-board.

Does this run true to Eysenck’s model? As a matter of fact, it does: traveling without a ticket is most readily accepted by those with tough-minded, leftist attitudes, and most frequently opposed by those with tender-minded, rightist attitudes.


Thought experiment three: Donations to a religious organization

The adventurers are ultimately successful in their endeavors, killing five skeletons, three hobgoblins, two were-rats, and a gelatinous cube. As they are returning to civilization, they pass a monastery, tended by monks in golden robes. They ask the adventurers for donations, claiming that they intend to use these to build a temple in the nearest city to boost the failing piety of the people. The question is, who is most likely to make a donation?

Stannithus has a deep respect for holy men. He also knows from reading his Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Player’s Handbook that, as a paladin, he is obligated to make regular donations to religious institutions. He gives a generous tithe.

Anianel finds their religion interesting, but sees the organization as stifling, and wonders why it is necessary for them to practice their religious beliefs in a cloistered and regimented hierarchy. She treats them with friendly courtesy, but doesn’t offer them any money.

Evulsifer exchanges few words with the monks. He appreciates their devotion to order, but finds their attitudes to be ineffectual and passive, believing that they lack any stomach for the harsh measures necessary to truly impose law on society.

Bob sneers at them in derision, insists that their God is a hallucination, and urinates on their iconography while no one else is looking.

Once again, does this run true to Eysencks model? Again, it does, and perfectly so; pro-religious attitudes correlate positively with tender-minded conservatism, while tough-minded liberals are more likely to consider religious observances to be "old fashioned" and members of the clergy to be "hypocrites."


In conclusion, while you may be able to come up with a thought experiment which shows characters of various alignments acting in ways which do not coincide with Eysenck’s political groups, I can’t. No matter how I look at the matter, it checks out remarkably well. While alignment in general, and Gygax’ conception of alignment in specific, has come under heavy and frequent attack by gamers who believe that it is an unwieldy tool which only hampers gameplay, or that it is an overly simplistic model which fails to describe the sheer volume of human variation, scientific research finds that Gary Gygax was right all along. Of course, it might seem odd to think that a man with such dismal game designing skills could have been informed by a deep knowledge of human philosophical and psychological structure while writing his games, but then again, we have only to consider the vast and disturbing popularity of his otherwise terrible role playing games to know that he must have had at least some knowledge of human nature—either that, or he made a pact with the devil, as these lawful do-gooder members of the religious right have been telling us the entire time.


Whisk me back!


Or, thank the author for sharing his ogilumbrious wisdom with the world by emailing him at harkenbane@juno.com!