Sep 14, 2015

Sipilänomics, or Finland's fake austerity

While everyone is more or less horrified by the ongoing train wreck that is the Donald Trump presidential campaign, it's worth remembering that in Finland, we elected our own version of Trump prime minister. Juha Sipilä, a Christian millionaire businessman, became an agrarian party MP in 2011, was elected party leader in 2012 and went on to win the 2015 parliamentary election and form the current cabinet. This fall, he's been busy shocking the nation with unprecedented cuts in education, social security and now public sector salaries. All is, however, not as it seems.

**

The recession of the early 1990's hit Finland particularly hard, not least because it coincided with the collapse of our friendly, co-operative and helpful major trading partner. Government debt, already rising in the 1980's, exploded during the recession when unemployment hit 20% and the economy contracted dramatically.


Even though growth resumed, we'd only gotten about halfway through the debt before the collapse of Nokia and the current financial crisis. Again, the economy contracted, and growth since has been slow or nonexistent, with the government running multi-billion euro deficits for several years in a row.


This is the essential background to the previous election. Even though neither the debt or deficit are alarmingly high in themselves, all parties except the extreme left agreed that this couldn't go on, and we needed to balance the budget. Sipilä didn't so much make a convincing case that he could do this, as he maddeningly refused to commit to any concrete measures whatsoever before the elections. Instead, what I think happened was that his general aura of masculine leadership was felt to be exactly what the country needed. In other words, he ran Ray Smuckles's election campaign, and won. Welcome to Finland.

**

After the election, Sipilä formed the first majority right-wing-only cabinet in Finnish history with the Coalition party and the populist racists who have the effrontery to call themselves the "Finns party". The new cabinet came out swinging, with a political program that promised four billion euros of spending cuts over their four-year tenure. The main targets were welfare, health care and education; on a personal note, the University of Helsinki, where I study, is set to lose at least a fifth of its government funding over the next couple of years. Sipilä then summoned the labor unions to negotiations over what he hilariously called a social contract, in practice a program for lowering salaries to boost national competitiveness. When the unions predictably refused and Finland, presumably, returned to a state of nature, the cabinet announced they would implement their competitiveness measures unilaterally.

Last week, we got a taste of what this Sipilänomics was going to mean in practice. The cabinet announced considerable cuts to salaries and benefits: Sunday pay will now no longer be double, but rather 175% of normal, the first day of sick leave is unpaid, a couple of holidays come off the calendar, overtime pay is halved, and public sector workers lose a bunch of vacation days per year. Overall, this adds up to savings of over a billion euros.

Our professor of economic history estimates that the net effect of these cuts will be to increase our government deficit by half a billion euros. No, I didn't mistype that. First of all, lower salaries also mean lower tax incomes, but crucially, the cut package also includes a 1.72% deduction in social security payments from employers, which will henceforth be covered from the government budget. This comes with a price tag of some 800 million euros, wiping out over half of the nominal savings by itself.

Of course, the idea is that the deduction in employment costs will encourage companies to hire more people. Our minister of finance, Coalition party leader Alexander Stubb, has blithely assured us that the cuts will create "tens of thousands of jobs". At least one prominent economist dismisses this entirely, believing the cuts will create no new jobs whatsoever. The cabinet has generally been criticized for overly optimistic views of the future, and this seems to be an excellent example; with world trade the way it is, plus the fact that the cuts will reduce domestic purchasing power by 3%, it's very difficult to understand where the tens of thousands of jobs are going to come from. The net effect of the cuts was calculated ceteris paribus, so it's entirely possible that the cuts will increase the deficit even more.

So if the government's cuts are actually going to make the deficit worse, where does the money go? Effectively, the Sipilä government is subsidising corporate payroll expenses by almost one billion euros. So the newest round of spending cuts aren't actually spending cuts at all; they're a wealth transfer from workers, and especially public sector workers, to corporate shareholders. If the net effect of the cuts really is to increase the deficit, then they are, in fact, a transfer of wealth from all taxpayers to shareholders. This isn't balancing a budget, let alone austerity; this is the opposite. The Sipilä administration is increasing our public deficit in order to redistribute income.

**

For a number of years, the political and economic debate in Finland has been framed as a juxtaposition of balanced budgets and stimulus. Supposedly, the right wants to cut spending to balance the public budget, while the left insists that the correct course of action is countercyclical stimulus. Their version of the story has Finland gripped by merciless fiscal austerity under a succession of penny-pinching right-wing governments.

For comparison, this is what austerity looks like: (image: Wikipedia Commons)


Greece underwent an extremely painful process of austerity, at great human cost, to almost eliminate their primary deficit. Until Syriza came along, that is. But in terms of statistical indicators, the above is austerity: a clear and sustained drop in government expenditure, ideally to the point where borrowing is no longer required. At that point, the budget can be called balanced.

I've put together the following graph from official government statistics collated by the Taxpayers Association of Finland and Statistics Finland. The blue line shows real central government debt in millions of euros; the red line is net central government budget expenditure. The time is 1990-2014.


Would any of our left-wingers like to show me on this diagram where, exactly, the Finnish government has done anything that even remotely resembles austerity?

**

As the graph shows, in this millenium Finnish central government expenditure has, with very few minute exceptions, only gone up. The national debt is skyrocketing. In short, at no point since the beginning of the current series of financial crises has there been any austerity whatsoever in Finland. Overall government spending has not been cut.

To anyone who's lived in Finland, this is a massively unintuitive conclusion. Surely we know for a fact that several successive right-wing-led cabinets have made several cuts to public spending? The university cuts I mentioned, for instance, were only the latest in a long series of cuts and budgetary interventions by the state. So where the hell is the money?

To answer this question comprehensively would take a lot more work and expertise than I can put into this blog post, but I'll give a couple of examples. Sipilä's agrarian predecessor Matti Vanhanen's cabinet removed the Social Insurance Institution payments from employers. This came with an estimated cost of 800 million euros, and because of the particular progression of the payments, chiefly benefited large, capital-intensive corporations. According to the rhetoric of the time, this was supposed to generate thousands of jobs. There are no good reasons to think that it created any at all. At one point, a regional experiment actually tried removing employer social security payments entirely - and found no overall benefits whatsoever (h/t to the sadly defunct Markkinakohinaa blog). So the end result was that government spending went up, and a billion-euro subsidy was delivered to Finnish corporations. Sound familiar?

The agrarian cabinet was finally ousted by a Coalition victory, which brought us Jyrki Katainen's six-party cabinet. One political measure all parties could agree on was, rather surprisingly given the presence of the Left Alliance and the Social Democrats, lowering Finland's corporate tax rate. This made a dent in the budget of approximately a billion euros, but the "dynamic effects" of the tax cut were estimated to increase revenue by at least half that, and, of course, create ten thousand jobs. Before writing this, I had no idea that ten thousand jobs and a billion euros is the Finnish government equivalent of about tree fiddy. Predictably, the dynamic effects never showed up; corporate tax income fell by, coincidentally, 800 million euros, and the jobs were nowhere to be seen. Instead, the money seems to have mostly been paid out as dividends to shareholders.

In both these cases, the failures of the stimulating effects was chalked up to the poor performance of the world economy. Or to put it another way, in both cases Finnish politicians had been far too optimistic about future economic growth, and gave up sizeable chunks of government revenue to boost growth that never happened. So against this background, it's hardly surprising that the Sipilä cabinet has come up with a billion euros of cuts, which he intends to use to directly subsidize corporate shareholders because economic growth is just around the corner. Apparently this is what we do in this country.

But to sum up, it seems to me that a large reason why government spending continues to rise despite expansive cuts is that the money saved has been given away, saddling the central government with more fiscal responsibilities while leaving it with lower tax revenue.

**

Having been quite critical of the left, I have to say that the right's rhetoric is also at times unbearable. The cuts the current administration are making are not the only possible way to respond to our fiscal situation. Even if you firmly believe that the deficit needs to be cut, there are other ways of going about it than these specific cuts. The right has been alarmingly succesful in creating a rhetorical environment in which any criticism of the government's cuts means fiscal irresponsibility. At worst, they pretend that the cabinet has no choice but to make these exact cuts, and couldn't possibly make any others. This is an outrageous lie. Choosing to make cuts that disproportionately impact the poorest citizens, women with low incomes and higher education, while barely touching higher income classes and giving money to big companies and farmers, are all political choices made by the current administration. It takes an astonishing degree of willful blindness and idiocy to maintain that there are no alternatives. We incessantly hear the right bleat about the massively expensive welfare state, and never acknowledge that we already pay more in farm subsidies than in unemployment benefits. The vast sums of money wasted in botched information systems are similarly completely exempt from cuts. These are all political choices, not the inevitable functioning of economic realities. It's deeply reprehensible for the right to try to deny its own political agency.

By far the most ludicrous aspect of right-wing rhetorics is the constant posturing over fiscal responsibility. If you believe the right, heroic right-wing politicians have been tirelessly trying to plug the deficit while an evil, greedy labor union movement does everything it can to stop them. Rightists moralizing about balanced budgets are equally welcome to show me on the diagram where, exactly, a succession of right-led cabinets has done anything at all to curb overall spending. Until you can do that, it might be smarter to not pretend to champion some fiscal responsibility that the parties you represent have no intention of executing.

**

There are two conclusions to draw from this. Firstly, for all its pseudo-corporate jargon and pretense of novelty, the Sipilä cabinet is doing exactly what its predecessors did: making sweeping cuts to government spending, only to give the money saved away to big business. I hate to sound so much like a socialist, but unfortunately that seems to be the reality of what our politicians do. This includes all parties of the left, who have enthusiastically participated in subsidizing our corporations and their owners. While this may seem surprising to an outsider, it makes perfect sense in a country dominated by a nationalist-corporatist ideology of national competitiveness. One of the most widely held articles of economic faith in this country is that the only sector of the economy that produces real value is the export industry. This is completely nonsensical, but articles of faith often are.

The second conclusion, which I wish would propagate even a little, is that the all-pervasive debate on austerity and cuts versus borrowing and stimulus is senseless. Not one single party in this country has at any point shown the slightest intention of balancing the budget. There has been no austerity; there will be no austerity. Instead, each party has its own particular schemes for ensuring the competitiveness of our export industry for when the upturn comes, which is literally the only way we can conceive of of reducing the deficit. The Sipilä administration's plan to reach a primary surplus by 2021 is nonsensical - unless you assume that the world economy will boom and Finland's exports will boom with it. If that doesn't happen, and given what's going on in China one is tempted to say when rather than if, we're screwed. No party is willing to even contemplate the idea that slow growth might be the new normal.

The only substantial fiscal policy difference between Finnish parties outside the lunatic fringe is which sectors of government spending that aren't farm subsidies to cut in order to transfer more money to our major corporations.

So a reasonable prognosis for the future is that Finnish parties will continue to engage in public spending cuts with dramatic impacts on our quality of life, human capital and purchasing power, in order to fund various hare-brained stimulus schemes with imaginary "dynamic effects". Although that's probably unfair to rabbits. It's utterly pointless for the left to rave about imaginary austerity and budget-balancing when no such things are even being attempted. Actually challenging the economic policies of the current administration requires critically dismantling the myth of national competitiveness through exports, and the endless optimism that sees 5% annual growth perennially around the next corner.

The problem is that the general Finnish population is completely economically illiterate. I personally know intelligent, academically educated people who can't even understand the simplest market transaction, let alone what economic policy even is. Because they don't understand that they don't understand economics, most people are faced with two alternatives: accept the right-wing neoliberal narrative that the only possible thing that can be done is cut welfare and salaries, or embrace some lunatic fringe theory that economics and money are all a scam. I'm honestly kind of surprised we don't have sovereign citizens in this country, and that the political left is doing so badly, because the complete ignorance of economics that so much of the population demonstrates would seem to be fertile ground for both brands of nonsense.

The biggest single reason for this is the unwillingness of our school system to actually teach any basics of economics. These days, there is one compulsory course on economics in high school, but this is a fairly recent development. What exacerbates this into a serious issue is the ignorance of our media on the same subject, which leads to the same effect on its pages: Finnish journalism will, in general, either parrot the government's competitiveness narrative, or challenge it with conspiracy theory garbage. Mostly, our media seems to see its task as explaining the government's actions to the people, rather than doing actual journalism. The run-up to the elections was a pathetic mess, and after it they've regressed to reporting on the government and then reporting on the opposition's reply. No analysis is being done, or is going to be done, because there's apparently simply no-one to do it. To question the competitiveness narrative, let alone massive money sinks like farm subsidies and conscription, is to question nationalism, which in a small, xenophobic country in thrall to its invented heroic past is simply not done.

Because of the dominance of the economic doctrine of national competitiveness, and the extreme difficulty of challenging it due to popular ignorance and media ineptitude, it's difficult to see how Finland can expect to escape the debilitating fixation on labor costs and export industries. Add to this the nationalist lunacy of wasting billions of euros each year on maintaining the illusion of agricultural self-sufficiency and "area equality", and it seems inevitable that things are going to get much worse before they get better. Despite the right's scare-mongering, Finland is far from going the way of Greece, but not only are the constant cuts to health care and education destructive right now, they'll be rebounding on us later with far greater effect, like they did after the previous recession. Because we can only conceive of competitiveness in terms of labor costs, we're effectively eradicating our human capital. This is complete madness.

The only thing that can save this country is if there's an upturn in world trade that boosts our economy before the pseudo-austerity of "competitiveness" wrecks it completely. If this happens, the main question will be whether the upturn lasts long enough that we can repair the damage. Last time, it didn't, and we entered the next downturn with a massive debt burden and huge structural problems. Next time, it'll probably be worse. The way it looks now, I don't think our political system can solve this problem. In the long term, we're a failing state.

Sep 7, 2015

Let's Read Tolkien 12: Inside Information

For a long time the dwarves stood in the dark before the door and debated, until at last Thorin spoke:

So, if the previous chapter was a very short tension-builder, this one's got everything and a dragon in it. Now that the door into the Mountain is open, Bilbo heads inside to burgle the dragon. If that seems completely insane to you, you've clearly been paying attention. Balin comes along for a short way, but Bilbo is basically left on his own to make his way down the ancient dwarven passage, right into the lair of Smaug the dragon. On the way in, we get a description of Thorin and company, which finishes with this:

There it is: dwarves are not heroes, but calculating folk with a great idea of the value of money; some are tricky and treacherous and pretty bad lots; some are not, but are decent enough people like Thorin and Company, if you don't expect too much.

This is pretty well in line with what we've seen of them so far - at least if you don't assume that they're necessarily very good at calculating. I quote this to once again point out that the racialized notions in fantasy where dwarves are Always Good don't originate here.

So Bilbo heads down the pitch-dark passage, and we're treated to some pretty good buildup as a dim red light and vague throbbing noise slowly begin to resolve into a sleeping dragon. What follows is a decent take on courage:

It was at this point that Bilbo stopped. Going on from there was the bravest thing he ever did. The tremendous things that happened afterwards were as nothing compared to it. He fought the real battle in the tunnel alone, before he ever saw the vast danger that lay in wait.

I don't care what you call me, but I very much like the idea that the real test of courage isn't murdering orcs or fighting dragons or whatever, but rather that it's facing your own fear of what's to come, alone. Poignant stuff from a veteran of trench warfare.

Having mastered his fear, on Bilbo goes, right into the lair of Smaug the dragon. Of the various Hobbit covers, my favorite has always been John Howe's, because it captures this magical moment so well:



Smaug, lit by a red glow, lying on a massive bed of treasure. The dragon's hoard isn't just any pile of treasure, though: as in Beowulf and the Volsunga saga, it has a magical quality of its own, and that enchantment, "the desire of dwarves", holds Bilbo spellbound. Eventually he recovers himself, and deciding to establish some better burglarizing credentials, grabs a cup from the hoard and heads back outside.

The dwarves are absolutely delighted by their first piece of treasure, patting Bilbo on the back and making grandiose plans to recover the rest of it, when Smaug wakes up and finds his cup missing.

Thieves! Fire! Murder! Such a thing had not happened since first he came to the Mountain! His rage passed description - the sort of rage that is only seen when rich folk that have more than they can enjoy suddenly lose something that they have long had but have never before used or wanted.

Tolkien on privilege?

As Smaug comes roaring out of the mountain, the dwarves panic, and Bilbo has to take charge and start hustling them into the tunnel. Suddenly they remember that Bofur and Bombur were left behind in the lower camp. No doubt because Bombur is fat, as they rarely tire of pointing out. Dwarves are apparently really big on body-shaming. They manage to rescue him and Bofur, but then Smaug flies by and all they can do is hide in the tunnel, barely escaping being roasted by his fiery breath.

**

While Thorin and company camp out in the tunnel and their poor ponies are eaten by a dragon, a discussion is had that is somewhat satisfying to the attentive reader.

They debated long on what was to be done, but they could think of no way of getting rid of Smaug - which had always been a weak point in their plans, as Bilbo felt inclined to point out.

As I've said, up until now, it's been a complete mystery how a traveling circus of unarmed dwarves witty enough to walk into a troll ambush was ever supposed to be able to even mildly annoy a dragon. Now we know what the great plan to defeat Smaug was: nothing. There really never was one in the first place. Frankly, this whole expedition seems completely barking mad. The only real question is why Gandalf chose such an incredibly elaborate way of getting Bilbo killed. When I played Oblivion and did the Dark Brotherhood assassination quests, I murdered a particularly challenging target by crafting an enchanted shirt that did constant fire damage and reverse pickpocketing it onto him so he put it on when he got up in the morning. It was entertaining watching him go about his daily routine while noticeably on fire. Up until now, I thought that was a moderately elaborate way of committing murder; it never once occurred to me to persuade my target that he's a burglar and sign him up with a posse of incompetent dwarves who intend to assault a dragon without so much as half a plan.

The current plan, as near as we can tell, is to hide in the tunnel until something happens. In the meanwhile, Bilbo volunteers to sneak back into Smaug's lair, trusting in his magic ring and assuming that the dragon will be sound asleep. Of course, he's quite awake and expecting Bilbo, and their encounter is one of the best scenes in the book. The dragon tries to tempt Bilbo out into the open, but Bilbo knows better - because naturally a solidly middle-class gentlehobbit who's more like a grocer than a burglar knows how to talk to a dragon. There's a bit of repartee where Bilbo (and the reader!) thinks he's come off quite well, until his parting shot nearly gets him broiled alive. In reality, Bilbo didn't do nearly as well as he thought, since his clever riddling did give away that he'd come from Lake-town; our intrepid burglar has paid the people of Lake-town for their hospitality by siccing a dragon on them. Smaug has found out this and more, and planted a seed of doubt in Bilbo's mind as to the honesty and intention of the dwarves - but in his fatal vanity he rolled over to show off his under-armor to the hobbit, who clocked his weak spot. So in short, this epic dialogue between the hobbit and the dragon sets off the climactic events of the whole book, and in great style. Simply a brilliant scene.

**

Bilbo barely makes his getaway up the tunnel, and finds his way back to the dwarves. A long conversation on treasure, dragons and whatnot ensues, confirming that not only do the dwarves really not have any kind of a plan, but they're also a bit mad about the dragon's hoard, Thorin going particularly my precioussss over a fabled jewel called the Arkenstone. The talk is punctuated by Bilbo's unease as he uncharacteristically throws a rock at a nearby thrush, and eventually begs the dwarves to shut the door before the dragon gets there. They do so, barely in time to avoid certain death as Smaug batters the mountainside where he's worked out the door to the passage has to be. Having failed to catch the thieves, Smaug resolves to make the Lake-men pay for helping them, and swoops off to wreak his vengeance.

**

Next time: spelunking, and an absent dragon.

Aug 17, 2015

Feminism as performance and appropriation, or why I stopped calling myself a feminist

I wrote earlier about how I'm going through a pretty intense period of self-reflection on a lot of things. One of these is my participation in politics, broadly speaking. I can't really call myself an activist as such, but I have tended to be pretty outspoken on issues like feminism and antiracism. My personal opinions on these things haven't changed one bit, but there are things going on right now that make me uncomfortable.

There was a thing in June this year where a mother wrote a Facebook status about how her son, Lenni, was bullied because he likes to wear dresses. This inspired a whole bunch of men to post pictures of themselves wearing dresses, many of them captioned "I am Lenni". A reporter for our government news service described this as a great way to change the world through social media.

I'm all for public statements of solidarity, and most definitely for fighting cissexism. Let the kid wear what he wants, damn it. But I'm a little uncomfortable with the way we're doing these public spectacles of feminism and solidarity these days. I'm finding it a bit difficult to put this into words, which is why I'm writing about it on my English-language blog that something like three people read, months after the event. I don't want to criticize anyone who participated in the campaign, still less dissuade people from participating in similar campaigns in the future. What I want to do is point out what I think is a problem with our public feminism.

Another local example. Earlier this year, another journalist lady working for our government broadcaster wrote a piece on how stupid feminism is, and how women need to stop complaining about stupid, insignificant things and man up, lean in and so on. I thought it was monumentally stupid, and I really wasn't alone. The problem was that several feminist men responded with blog posts where they explained to this woman how she was doing feminism wrong. Again, I don't want to discourage men from participating in feminism and debates on feminism, but on the other hand, that just isn't right.

**

Isn't saying "I am [a less privileged person]" pretty much the exact definition of appropriation? And isn't the spectacle of straight white cis men writing authoritative texts instructing women on how to be feminists the same damn thing, or worse?

Intersectional feminism can't just be about making a kinder, gentler patriarchy. Feminism needs to challenge the notion that white cis men are the supreme authority on everyone's experiences and ideologies. When cis men perform feminism, we appropriate the struggles of other people and make feminism into a public spectacle that's centered on us. That isn't feminism, it's bullshit. If we white cis men want to be feminists, to really make the world a better place for the less privileged, we need to do our part to dismantle patriarchy. We need to challenge our own privilege. We need to not always make everything about us. Feminism isn't something that we can appropriate, master and claim as our own; it stops being feminism and becomes just another way of maintaining white cis male supremacy. If we just step into the limelight every now and then with a little feminist performance, pat ourselves on the back for being such good feminists and carry on with 99% of our life exactly as before, then this public performamce feminism is compete fucking bullshit.

In other words, we need to learn to shut the fuck up.

As a white cis man, I don't know how to participate and be active in feminism without appropriating it. I try to retweet rather than tweet, listen rather than talk. Probably the most revolutionary thing a white cis man can say is nothing. Feminism needs to be an ideology and movement that dismantles privilege and decenters the privileged, not one that gives the most privileged representatives of the heteropatriarchy a new discourse with which to master everyone else's experiences. We white cis men absolutely need to stop making ourselves the arbiters of everything around us. That's pretty much the definition of patriarchy. The public spectacle feminism of white cis men doesn't challenge patriarchy, it reinforces it.

**

After writing the above, I got some pretty devastating feedback on my personal behavior. A person I have a huge amount of respect for and who's gone through quite a bit came out and basically said that of all the people they've encountered, the ones they wanted to single out as toxic and incapable of respecting people's boundaries are self-identified "feminist" cis men. I.e. precisely my demographic. And in this case, some deeply thoughtless behavior of mine has certainly played a part. I'm absolutely mortified by this, and deeply sorry. I try to do better. But this was what finally pushed me to stop calling myself a feminist. I don't think I have any right to do that, and if you ask me right now, I don't think any cis men should call themselves feminists. We make feminist spaces unsafe and toxic. We co-opt feminism into our own ego project and virtuoso performance. I'm seriously coming to think that a cis man calling himself a feminist is never anything but privileged appropriation.

I need a new word that says I completely and wholeheartedly oppose our transphobic, racist heteropatriarchy, and recognize that overthrowing it means giving up my privilege, not redressing it as public performance "feminism". Right now, I believe that the only way I can be a feminist in a way that isn't appropriative, destructive and frankly poisonous is to shut the hell up about feminism. I now intend to do that.

Aug 10, 2015

Lord of the Rings LCG: Down to the river

I'll talk about the quests in the game in more detail in my next post, but for now, let's talk about difficulty.

First of all, I entirely agree with this post: the difficulty ratings for the various quests simply cannot have been determined by playing them. Our limited sample so far supports this. A Journey Along the Anduin is brutal, especially to new players, especially right after Passage through Mirkwood. It has a difficulty level of 4. Our first three attempts at Journey ended in utter defeat, as did my four solo tries. Playing on my own, I only got out of the first quest stage once. It is just really not easy.

After being completely destroyed by the Journey Along the Anduin, we decided to try something different. We got the Dead Marshes adventure pack for Boromir, and Hunt for Gollum for Eagles and questing allies, but being adventure packs, they obviously included quests as well. The official difficulty level of A Hunt for Gollum is 4, the same as A Journey Along the Anduin, and the Dead Marshes is 5, which is harder.

Are you kidding me? On our first attempt at Dead Marshes, we drew several escape test -forcing treacheries right off the bat and Gollum escaped back into the encounter deck, but we got lucky and he showed up again almost immediately. On our second attempt, he never managed to escape in the first place, and we just blasted right through the quest. So when the Tales from the Cards blog says "it is possible to blow through this quest in a couple of rounds and feel a bit underwhelmed", I would not only agree that it's possible but say that that's exactly what happened to us both times. A third three-handed attempt took quite a while after Gollum escaped, but we had no trouble waiting for him to show up. I can't think of any way in which this quest can be considered harder than A Journey Along the Anduin. Even playing solo, I still haven't beaten Anduin, but Dead Marshes was a joke. It did involve a hell of a lot of waiting after Gollum escaped and ended up in the discard pile, but to be honest, that was just boring. Now that we've also picked up the Khazad-dûm deluxe expansion, I can point out that Dead Marshes has the same difficulty as Into the Pit, which is sort of technically funny but is not.

Our first two-handed experience of A Hunt for Gollum was challenging, but we did manage to beat it on the second go. On another attempt we lost to an unfortunate flood of encounter cards, drawing several objectives and surges, followed by a treachery that eliminated a huge swath of our allies. A three-handed attempt was again more succesful. I actually think Hunt for Gollum is a good quest: it doesn't have the brutality of Anduin, but it isn't a walkover like Dead Marshes. My three solo runs through Hunt for Gollum were a resounding success, something I've never experienced with Anduin yet! Giving these two quests the same difficulty level is completely mad.

Despite both of the adventure pack scenarios clearly feeling easier than Anduin, we were buoyed by this strange experience of victory and had another shot at the Great River. And we beat it! Again, I think we were a bit lucky, but we did also play somewhat better. Since the Tactics deck is rubbish at questing, my partner had Thalin quest and focused everything else on destroying any enemies that showed up, while I pretty much quested with everybody all the time. Eventually, that combo got us through. Flush with our success, we also took a three-handed shot with a Leadership deck and won again, albeit with heavy damage and the loss of a hero. A three-handed attempt at Hunt for Gollum got a bit hairy at times with a huge pack of locations, but my Northern Tracker saw us through.

**

So, some difficulty observations. First and most obvious, the official difficulty levels are a terrible guide to the actual difficulty of a quest. In my opinion at least, to take the quests covered here, I maintain that Dead Marshes is the easiest. A Journey Along the Anduin is clearly harder, while Hunt for Gollum falls somewhere in between the two. So any new players struggling with A Journey Along the Anduin: don't worry. It gets easier.

Part of the reason the difficulty levels are flawed is that I'm not really convinced it's possible to usefully distil the difficulty of a quest into a single number. Why is Anduin harder than Hunt for Gollum? Part of the reason has to be randomness. Individual iterations of Anduin will vary widely, because so much depends on the luck of the draw. If, for instance, you reveal the Hill Troll right away in setup, you've got a fairly easy beginning. Everyone who's played the game can probably remember combinations of cards that weren't quite so benign; and any beginning can be completely destroyed when the second Hill Troll shows up. The same goes for the third phase: playing three-handed, we drew five locations. Not much of an ambush, that. It could have gone very differently! On a couple of my solo attempts, I drew practically no locations and was overwhelmed with enemies. Had it gone the other way round, I might have done much better! It's been pointed out that even Passage through Mirkwood has a significant random element that makes beating it a bit harder than the measly difficulty rating of 1 might lead you to believe. So really, it might make a lot more sense to break difficulty down into different components.

One interesting difficulty component is multiplayer. So far, in several scenarios the balance is good: more players means more resources to deal with problems, but also more encounter cards i.e. more problems to deal with. In general, I've felt that more players make quests easier. On our first three-handed attempt at Anduin, though, the deluge of encounter cards was very intimidating! But playing solo, I'd still say that Anduin is by far the hardest quest. For every quest we've tried so far, adding more players made it easier. I think that so far at least, the economies provided by additional players like division of labor are more powerful than the additional encounter cards and effects; in other words, even though there are more problems, there are also more players to deal with the problems.

What I do find a bit odd is that the core game comes with four starter decks, one of which is pretty much completely useless for solo play. With practically no willpower, the Tactics deck can't quest to save its life. On the other hand, the Leadership starter with its Stewards of Gondor generates more resources than it knows what to do with, to the extent that I've now seen Brok Ironfist enter play at his full resource cost - twice. Then again, the spirit deck struggles to defend against anything more intimidating than Eastern Crows. While it's obviously a good thing that the various starter decks are different, the total unsuitability of the Tactics deck for solo play was a bit of a surprise. Obviously your deck will also considerable impact on difficulty, again making me wonder if it's at all meaningful to try to give quests an overall difficulty rating.

Solo play with just the core set can be frustratingly difficult, if not at times impossible. My suggestion would be to look at the Shadows of Mirkwood adventure packs, both for new player cards and quests that are mostly a lot easier than A Journey down the Anduin.

**

I fully appreciate that from a game design perspective, hitting on the right difficulty level for quests can't exactly be easy. Passage through Mirkwood is a good introductory quest that can at times turn out to be surprisingly difficult. To a new player, especially playing solo, A Journey Along the Anduin is absolutely brutal. The hill troll and the flood of encounter cards in the second phase are a real one-two punch to the face. It's an interesting design decision to hit new players with something like that straight out of the box; based on a lot of forum posts and comments I've seen, it's turned quite a few people off the game, and left even sober-seeming reviewers with an inflated notion of the overall difficulty of the whole LCG. It really doesn't help that at least one of the starter decks is almost unplayable solo.

The thing is, though: A Journey Along the Anduin is a really good quest. It has a clear, strong narrative that ties its various phases together. The narrative combines with the encounter cards and the art to create a powerful atmosphere. In terms of gameplay, there's an excellent mix of questing and combat, with the three different stages of the quest each posing a different challenge. The quest is challenging, but beating it is immensely rewarding.

Although it's considerably easier, much of the same is true of A Hunt for Gollum. Only the Dead Marshes quest falls somewhat flat in all respects. So thus far, my overall impression of the Lord of the Rings LCG remains overwhelmingly positive.

**

After adding player cards from Journey to Rhosgobel and Return to Mirkwood, this is what my current deck looks like:

The Amazons

50 cards: 29 Spirit, 20 Lore, 1 neutral; 3 heroes, 23 allies, 9 attachments, 15 events

Éowyn
Eleanor
Beravor


Allies: (23, 13/9/1)
Elfhelm x2
Northern Tracker x2
Lórien Guide x2
Escort from Edoras x2
Westfold Horse-Breaker x2
West Road Traveller x3
Haldir of Lórien
Daughter of the Nimrodel x3
Mirkwood Runner x2
Gléowine x2
Henamarth Riversong
Gandalf


Attachments: 9 (5/4)
The Favor of the Lady x2
Unexpected Courage
Ancient Mathom x2
Forest Snare x2
Protector of Lórien x2


Events: 15 (9/6)
Astonishing Speed
The Galadhrim's Greeting x2
A Test of Will x2
Dwarven Tomb
Hasty Stroke x2
Will of the West
Lore of Imladris x2
Radagast's Cunning
Secret Paths x2
Strider's Path

Still a bit too much Lore going around, but overall I'm quite happy with this deck. I ended up adding some extra healing in the form of a second Lore of Imladris and third Daughter of the Nimrodel, because of our three-handed experience with A Journey Along the Anduin. Some of the location control cards came in quite handy in A Hunt for Gollum, which we'd frankly never have managed to beat without my Northern Tracker. My deck's shadow and treachery cancellation abilities have also been very useful.

I should probably make a clearer decision as to how viable I want this deck to be in solo play. The boosted healing is there solely for multiplayer, but on the other hand, I'm not sure if I actually need cards like Forest Snare or Mirkwood Runner in multiplayer at all, since I'm mostly going to be teaming up with fairly combat-oriented decks. Then again, after I wrote that, my Mirkwood Runner made a very meaningful contribution to a quest by eliminating enemies, so... I really like the fact the deckbuilding isn't easy!

**

Next time: the Hobbit saga begins!

Aug 3, 2015

Let's Read Tolkien 11: On the Doorstep

In two days going they rowed right up to the Long Lake and passed out into the River Running, and now they could all see the Lonely Mountain towering grim and tall before them.

This is a really short chapter, with only eight pages of text and a one-page illustration. Flush from their triumphal reception at Lake-Town, the traveling circus takes a boat ride up the Long Lake, and enters the Desolation of Smaug. They make their way to the Lonely Mountain itself, and find their way up the slopes to a secret path, which eventually leads them to the "doorstep", a small expanse of grass before a sheer stone wall, where they believe the secret door into the mountain is. There's no sign of the dragon, but smoke and fumes pour out of the menacing Front Gate, which the party doesn't dare approach. The dwarves try to find a way to open the door or break through, and fail. Eventually they start grumbling amongst themselves that maybe Bilbo should put on his special ring and sneak in the front door, which he isn't too enthusiastic about. Eventually, just as the moon-letters that Elrond read in the map promised back in Chapter 3, Durin's Day comes along, the keyhole is revealed, and the secret door opens with a twist of Thorin's key. The way into the mountain is open.

**

That's it, really. Like I said, this is a very short chapter. It's a little odd that the door showing up on Durin's Day is told as a sudden flash of insight by Bilbo that was completely unexpected by the party, when I thought the moon-letters made the whole thing pretty clear. Other than that, though, this chapter works quite well together with the previous one to build up anticipation toward actually reaching the mountain, the dragon and the treasure. I like that we haven't seen so much as a glimpse of the dragon, or that we don't even know if he's there at all. There is tension here.

A short chapter gets a short post; next time: burglary!

Jul 6, 2015

Lord of the Rings LCG: My first deck

We spent a fairly rainy Midsummer in the country, with two notable results: my entire family now knows how to play Carcassonne, and I'm completely hooked on a new obsession. My brother, you see, brought along his copy of the Lord of the Rings Living Card Game. Now, I haven't played one of these collectible card game things since I got my Magic: the Gathering cards; it was an Ice Age starter pack, so I'll let you all work out how long ago that was. I accepted the offer of a game so I could get him to play Carcassonne with us, but what ended up happening was a series of two- or three-player games that left me solidly addicted.

I very highly recommend this game. It's very easy to pick up and easier to teach to others. Despite what it says on the box, one core set will quite happily accomodate four players. Solo play is fun enough, but the co-operative multiplayer is the real jewel of the crown. Unlike most other card games (at least that I know of), players don't compete with each other, but rather co-operate to complete quests and defeat the enemy. There are three quests and something like 120 player cards in the core set, which is plenty for four players to get stuck in. An excellent, excellent product, and a steal at its current price (44€ at our store). Also, as it's one of Fantasy Flight's "living card games" rather than a traditional collectible card game, there's none of the old nonsense of buying booster packs and hoping for good cards. Instead, there are various expansion sets, which provide the same new quests and cards for everyone.

Since my partner liked the game as well but was disappointed by the lack of Boromir, the first thing I did when we got back to civilization was head to said store and pick up the core set and a copy of the Dead Marshes adventure pack.



This game hits a pretty damn perfect spot for me right now. I've been feeling generally tired, depressed and dejected, somewhat stressed out by my master's thesis and not at all looking forward to the fall and my approaching teaching classes. Now I have something fun to do and obsess over during the summer that'll hopefully provide a nice distraction well into the semester. The value this game has added to my midsummer vacation was already worth the price of purchase on its own. It also combines nicely with my ongoing Tolkien-reading project.

I got to try all of the four different starter decks over midsummer, but obviously if I'm going to take this game seriously, I have to build my own deck. Having tried the Legolas progress machine (Legolas + Blade of Gondolin), I do have to admit I enjoyed the Tactics starter, but seeing as how my partner is obviously going to be running a Tactics deck because Boromir, and my brother was interested in a Tactics/Spirit combo, I might as well forget about it! Clearly they'll be handling the fighting, so having no particularly strong feelings of my own with regard to spheres, I was left to complement them.

What did strike me when trying out the starter decks in the core set was that there were exactly three female heroes, including the best quester of them all, Éowyn. Ordinarily I'm not crazy about games adding original characters to established fictional worlds, but as I'm finding in my Tolkien readthrough, to get female characters into a Tolkien setting they're damn well going to have to be original characters. I also like Eleanor's ability, and the controversy over whether she's any good or not makes me want to find out. Also, I've been reading some tremendously helpful posts over at the Tales from the Cards blog, and they had ended up putting together a similar deck, albeit from two core sets, but still. So here's what I came up with:

**

The Amazons

50 cards, 28 Spirit / 20 Lore / 2 neutral, 3 heroes / 21 allies / 9 attachments / 17 events



Heroes:
Éowyn
Eleanor
Beravor


Allies: 19 (9/8/2)
Northern Tracker x2
Lórien Guide x3
Wandering Took x2
Elfhelm x2
Erebor Hammersmith
Miner of the Iron Hills x2
Henamarth Riversong
Gléowine x2
Daughter of the Nimrodel x2
Silvan Tracker x2
Gandalf x2


Attachments: 9 (5/4)
Unexpected Courage
The Favor of the Lady x2
Power in the Earth x2
Forest Snare x2
Protector of Lórien x2


Events: 17 (12/5)
A Test of Will x2
The Galadhrim's Greeting x2
Hasty Stroke x2
Stand and Fight x3
A Light in the Dark x2
Dwarven Tomb
Secret Paths x2
Radagast's Cunning x2
Lore of Imladris

**

Obviously this isn't a very good deck, but it's the best I felt I could put together from one core set and the Dead Marshes pack. I mostly included the Silvan Trackers to have at least a few slightly durable allies, and, well, because they were there. I'm hoping to be able to provide questing, card draw and treachery management while the Tactics folks deal with the fighting. Combat ability is a concern, but with an initial threat of 26, I should get a moment to prepare when going solo, or have fightier decks handle it. I would absolutely love some tougher allies, but this is what I have so it'll have to do.

My first test run with this deck was Passage through Mirkwood in co-operation with my partner's Boromir-led monosphere Tactics deck, and we absolutely destroyed it. Eowyn's questing combined with extra progress from Legolas sped us through the various stages, and once Gimli was fortified with the Armor of the Citadel, he took on some Hummerhorns to reach a fairly amazing 9 attack. When Ungoliant's Spawn showed up for the final stage, the Tactics boys knocked it out in one go. I didn't even have to use my Forest Snare! We did very well indeed, but the experience did underline the combat weakness of my deck.

I'm unreasonably thrilled to report that I also managed to beat Passage through Mirkwood solo on my first attempt! Compared to the absolute breeze that was our Tactics-Amazons co-op, it was distinctly more hairy on my own. I was lucky to get Protector of Lórien on both Beravor and Eleanor, and with Gléowine helping out on card draw, I was able to junk a fair number of cards to help both questing and defense. Still, getting rid of enemies was anything but easy; on several occasions we had three enemies engaged, and it was all I could do to just defend them. Elfhelm and the Northern Tracker were worth their weight in gold here. In the end, we got Ungoliant's Spawn snared - and still took several turns to get rid of it. But get rid of it we did, and the quest was complete, with far fewer casualties than I'd expected. I like this deck!

**

Having run these games, we happened to pick up the Hunt for Gollum adventure pack; I swapped out my Silvan Trackers and a Wandering Took for a Rivendell Minstrel and three Westfold Horse-Breakers, having also handed one of my Gandalfs over to the Leadership deck. I also dropped one copy of Stand and Fight for a Strider's Path. We took a three-handed swing at PtM again with a new player on the Leadership starter, and it was quite successful. The healing abilities of my Daughter of the Nimrodel came in handy, as did Eleanor's treachery cancellation, but I still have too much Lore in my deck and too few Spirit allies. I restored my other Wandering Took in favor of a Stand and Fight, which helps the one but not the other. I should look for some expansions with more Spirit allies, but I'm not sure which ones they are. Maybe I should be trying to use Stand and Fight to get some Lore allies into play via the discard pile? So far I've never ended up using it. I'm also not quite sure which Lore cards to drop. With several players involved, healing is quite valuable, but much less so in solo play, where I try to avoid the damage being done in the first place. On the other hand, questing support cards like Radagast's Cunning and Secret Paths have seen relatively little use so far, but maybe that's just because the questing has been rather easy.

The true test for any deck, of course, is a hill troll. We tried Journey to Anduin three-handed over midsummer (Leadership, Spirit and Lore starter decks), and were completely overwhelmed. Not only were we finding it very difficult to deal with the troll, but the increased combat workload also meant that locations started piling up in the staging area and we eventually gave up when we lost a player altogether when his threat hit 50. That memory is why I'm not too keen to throw out the quest-boosting Lore cards! So next time: journeys along the Great River of Wilderland!

**

For later reference, this is the current state of my deck:

The Amazons; 50 cards, 29/20/1, 3/22/9/16

Éowyn
Eleanor
Beravor


Allies: 22 (12/9/1)
Northern Tracker x2
Lórien Guide x3
Wandering Took x2
Elfhelm x2
Westfold Horse-Breaker x3
Erebor Hammersmith
Miner of the Iron Hills x2
Henamarth Riversong
Gléowine x2
Daughter of the Nimrodel x2
Rivendell Minstrel
Gandalf


Attachments: 9 (5/4)
Unexpected Courage
The Favor of the Lady x2
Power in the Earth x2
Forest Snare x2
Protector of Lórien x2


Events: 16 (10/6)
A Test of Will x2
The Galadhrim's Greeting x2
Hasty Stroke x2
Stand and Fight
A Light in the Dark x2
Dwarven Tomb
Secret Paths x2
Radagast's Cunning x2
Lore of Imladris
Strider's Path


And my partner's, after swapping Gimli for Thalin and a consequent lower starting threat:

Team Boromir; 46 cards, 44/2, 3/17/10/16

Boromir (TDM)
Legolas
Thalin


Allies: 17 (15/2)
Beorn
Horseback Archer x2
Gondorian Spearman x3
Veteran Axehand x3
Winged Guardian x3
Vassal of the Windlord x3
Gandalf x2


Attachments: 10
Citadel Plate x2
Dwarven Axe x2
Blade of Gondolin x2
Horn of Gondor
Song of Mocking x3


Events: 16
Thicket of Spears x2
Swift Strike
Blade Mastery x3
Feint x2
Quick Strike x2
Rain of Arrows x2
Stand Together
The Eagles Are Coming! x3

Jun 29, 2015

Let's Read Tolkien 10: A Warm Welcome

The day grew lighter and warmer as they floated along.

We left Bilbo and the dwarves floating down the forest river toward Long Lake, and that's where we find them now, with the hobbit admiring the scenery, which includes, for the first time, the Lonely Mountain! There's a nice bit of geography and a description of Lake-town, a human settlement built on piles driven into the lakebed. I have to build something like that in Minecraft. As invisible Bilbo floats along, he overhears the rafting elves doing some handy exposition about local events, learning that the forest river is now actually pretty much the only reasonable way through Mirkwood; apparently the forest road is now swamped in at its eastern end.

This actually raises a question: back in chapter 8, the narrator said that if only the dwarves had persevered a little longer on the road, they would have made it to the edge of the woods. I wondered then what good that would have done them, as they would've basically been stuck in the middle of nowhere with no food, and now we learn that they'd actually have been stuck in the middle of a swamp with nothing to eat. So unless they were madly gluttonous with their rations, which isn't the impression I got, sending the lot of them to trudge through Mirkwood on foot was pretty much a suicide mission. The narrator here informs us that Gandalf was very worried when he heard about the state of the local terrain, which kind of forces one to up the ante from wondering about the incompetence of Thorin's travelling circus to the state of planning in Middle-Earth in general.

Only after the barrels are poled ashore and the raft-elves head into town for some drinking, do we learn that Bilbo's lunatic dwarven flotation scheme actually worked, as he extracts the dwarves from their barrels, in various states but all alive and accounted for. To digress for a minute, okay, we're told the raft-elves go into town for "feasting", but surely that includes alcohol. Given that the image of Tolkien's elves tends to be of mysterious, aloof beings, the impression you get here is of basically decent folks who enjoy a drink.

Most of the dwarves are too waterlogged and miserable to be of any use, but Thorin, Fili, Kili and Bilbo head into Lake-town. They waltz into the guardhouse, where Thorin announces himself:

"Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror King under the Mountain!" said the dwarf in a loud voice, and he looked it, in spite of his torn clothes and draggled hood. The gold gleamed on his neck and waist; his eyes were dark and deep. "I have come back. I wish to see the Master of your town!"

Everyone goes nuts about this, and Thorin is conducted to the Master of Lake-town's hall, where a feast is going on. Thorin again announces himself as King under the Mountain, to the dismay of the raft-elves, who protest:

"These are prisoners of our king that have escaped, wandering vagabond dwarves that could not give any good account of themselves, sneaking through the woods and molesting our people!"

Never mind that this is true; Thorin gets out of it with some rhetoric, and the crowd goes crazy and starts singing about the return of the king and all the gold he'll be bringing. Soon enough, the dwarves and hobbit are being feasted, decked out in expensive clothes and put up in excellent lodgings for a fortnight of partying and song. Eventually the Master - who, to his resounding credit, is solidly skeptical about this whole thing - throws them out by equipping their little expedition to the Mountain, and off the dwarves go.

**

This is a really good chapter. We get good exposition and world-building, some excellent scenes in Lake-town and the transformation of the dwarves from half-drowned hobos to conquering heroes reclaiming their ancestral home.

It's worth noting that so far, the only thing the dwarves have done with unquestionable competence is sell their dragon-hunting story. Their song and dance act at Bag End was a tremendous success, and they effectively repeat it here in Lake-town, netting new clothes, equipment, lodgings and transportation. They're bumbling morons at anything that even remotely resembles actual adventuring, not to mention completely unequipped for it, but they sure can put on a dog and pony show. If they were around today, these guys would give amazing Powerpoint presentations.

This all suggests an explanation for the dwarves' hitherto-puzzling lack of planning, preparedness and competence: they're con men. Look at the events of the chapter from the Master of Lake-town's point of view. A bunch of dwarven hoboes with a halfling thief show up, unarmed, bedraggled and generally miserly, and give speeches about how they're dispossessed dwarven nobility on their way to kick out a dragon and reclaim their ancestral home. Without, you know, weapons. Or indeed equipment or skills of any kind. The elves protest that these are just a band of wandering criminals, which apparently to them is something different from dispossessed or indeed possessed nobility, but your subjects inexplicably mark out over the return of the king and start singing songs about dwarves and gold. Said dwarves are perfectly content to receive a fortnight of housing, feasts and gifts, and having arrived as half-drowned hoboes in barrels, leave decked out like lords.

Surely at this point, a skeptical observer would fully expect to never see them again. Maybe they used their last coins to bribe some of the townsfolk into singing about dwarves and gold at the appropriate juncture to pull it off this time, but having managed to swindle proper clothing and other gifts from Lake-town, their "King under the Mountain" act will be even more convincing in the next place they pull it. I could easily see a troupe of dwarven con men doing the rounds in Middle-Earth with an act like this. Actually, I wouldn't half mind running that role-playing campaign.

**

There are nineteen chapters altogether in the Hobbit, so we're now halfway through! For the record, the first half of the book has not so much as mentioned a single female character or creature. You'd think that some of the townsfolk in Lake-town might have been women, and certainly that some ladies would have been at Rivendell or at the Elvenking's feasts, but we don't know that they were. It really is an incredibly masculine world.

Next time: mountaineering!