The Role-Playing Game Manifesto first appeared in Guardians of Order books such as BESM, and has been re-printed elsewhere. It is a purported ideology of gaming. The original text is as follows:
These rules are written on paper, not etched in stone tablets.
Rules are suggested guidelines, not required edicts.
If the rules don't say you can't do something, you can.
There are no official answers, only official opinions.
When dice conflict with the story, the story always wins.
Min/Maxing and Munchkinism aren't problems with the game; they're problems with the player.
The Game Master has full discretionary power over the game.
The Game Master always works with, not against, the players.
A game that is not fun is no longer a game - it's a chore.
This book contains the answers to all things.
When the above does not apply, make it up.
Criticism of the Manifesto[]
Not everyone agrees with this manifesto, in whole, part, or spirit.
These rules are written on paper, not etched in stone tablets.[]
Rules are suggested guidelines, not required edicts.[]
This pair of statements largely reflects Rule Zero, and with it, implies the Oberoni Fallacy. The idea that the rules are incomplete is basically inherent to the definition of a role-playing game. However, suggesting the rules aren't supposed to be binding suggests there is a problem with the idea itself of rules. The counterpoint to these rules would be to say the rules are a framework, with the authority of the GM including extensions of the rules as needed, in whatever fashion seems sensible to the game being played.
If the rules don't say you can't do something, you can.[]
It can be argued this is simply a poor principle. At some level it contradicts the first two statements, as it suggests a rules-set is complete as far as stating limitations, but incomplete as far as offering options. There are many things not explicitly forbidden by a rules-set which should not be allowed, including, but not limited to, fidelity to the genre, fidelity to the imaginary world, game balance, the social contract, or simply coherence about what kinds of moves are allowed in the game.
There are no official answers, only official opinions.[]
This is logically inescapable. However, an objection can be raised that a game sufficiently varied from the generally played version eventually becomes a different game. Running a game with markedly minority opinions about certain rules or peculiar house-rules means one play experience isn't portable to another campaign of what is ostensibly the same system.
When dice conflict with the story, the story always wins.[]
This is a flawed statement, because it assumes there is a pre-determined story. This is antithetical to the definition of a role-playing game. Even in a heavily railroaded game, it is pretty basic to realize that it is possible for some outcomes to occur and others, due to chance. The idea of altering the results or meaning of a roll call into question whether a roll should have occurred in the first place. While some people will accept this statement provisionally, the idea the story "always wins" just doesn't make sense unless you know the outcome before you play.
A weaker version, "Sometimes a dice roll should be ignored for a more interesting possibility," is defensible, if not universally accepted.
Min/Maxing and Munchkinism aren't problems with the game; they're problems with the player[]
This first of all pre-supposes there is a problem. The question can be raised, if the game has rules for taking powerful options, and those options are taken by the players, how are the players not playing as intended? The objection can also be raised that well-intentioned players may find situations where the game makes certain options exceedingly efficient, so much that it affects their choices; that definitely is a problem with the system, not the player. If a game makes wizards all-powerful and relegates martial characters to being meat shields and pack mules, if that, and the game expects both rules to be desirable, the game has failed at its stated purpose. Essentially, this statement excuses designers from making choices expensive, even at the very low bar of there being reasons to select more than one choice for a given domain.
The Game Master has full discretionary power over the game.
Self-evident, and yet one can question what is implied here. It is also self-evident that a GM who disregards the opinions, interests, or knowledge of their players will soon find themselves without a game.
The Game Master always works with, not against, the players.[]
It's not clear what this means. Obviously, the GM and the players are all participants in the same activity, so everyone is united in that the activity should be fun and successful. But not everyone has identical preferences, and even players who prefer the same things may have different expectations of what will happen. In any case, the GM is responsible not only for supporting the players' preferred experience, but providing the necessary adversity. While the GM is working with the players to create a game, there are certainly occasions where the GM's logical goal is to thwart the players' intentions if they don't rise to the occasion. This is true not only of tactical play, where enemies can and should win if the players make mistakes, but of more narrative situations, where the GM is responsible for carrying out the consequences of the players' choices.
A game that is not fun is no longer a game - it's a chore.[]
While true, when taken within the context of the manifesto, this can be taken as a pretext to shame others who have the wrong sort of fun. Again, not everyone has the same preferences. Some tension, and even conflict, can exist among well-meaning people. Sometimes a "chore" - that is, real work - must be done to get back to the fun part. For some people, book-keeping or complex mechanics are a chore, while for others, it can the tedium of long talking scenes.
This book contains the answers to all things.[]
When the above does not apply, make it up.[]
These two statements probably shouldn't be taken as serious statements. Really it's just a restatement of the idea the GM is responsible for extending the rules of the game beyond the explicit, which is already a property of what an RPG is.