The Art of Abstraction in Historical Wargame Design
Abstract:
This article explores the essential role of abstraction in the design of historical tabletop wargames, arguing that abstraction is not a compromise but a core design tool for achieving realism, playability, and historical plausibility. By examining popular systems like Chain of Command and comparing them with non-miniature wargames, the piece shows how well-chosen abstractions—such as fog of war, morale, command friction, and logistics—allow games to model the effects of real warfare without drowning players in detail. Drawing on systems thinking concepts such as emergence, complexity, and interconnectedness, the discussion highlights how simple rule interactions can produce rich, historically grounded outcomes. Rather than striving for literal accuracy, the article makes the case for modeling what matters—using abstraction to bridge the gap between historical truth and tabletop experience. In doing so, it offers a balanced perspective on why the most effective wargames are not those that simulate every detail, but those that illuminate the patterns and pressures of real command.
Realism, Playability – and the Power of Abstraction
Designers of historical tabletop wargames often wrestle with a classic dilemma: can a game be both realistic and playable? Only if it embraces abstraction. As veteran designer John Hill observed, creating a detailed simulation is easy—making a good game is the hard part. His critique of the unplayable WWI game 1914 set the tone: too much realism can break the very system it aims to portray.
Abstraction offers a solution. It is not a compromise but a design philosophy. It bridges realism and enjoyment, allowing games to represent the effects of real combat without reproducing every historical input.
Rather than seeing realism and playability as a trade-off, designer Steven Thomas proposes a three-dimensional model: simulation, playability, and abstraction. A well-designed game navigates this triad with purpose, using abstraction to remove detail while retaining truth. It is this balance that allows a tabletop wargame to model history in a way that is insightful, engaging, and intuitive.
When “Strict Realism” Fails
Wargames that chase realism too hard often collapse under their own weight. Consider a sniper rule so intricate it takes an hour to resolve a single shot—simulating 20 seconds of combat. Or a War in the Pacific game that requires two full days just to set up. These are cautionary tales. Complexity does not equal realism. In fact, excessive detail often yields distorted outcomes.
Furthermore, historical realism is not just about mechanics—it's about experience. No general in WWII managed individual ammo loads or exact tank facings. A game that forces players into those roles may be detailed, but it isn't realistic at the command level it claims to model. As military theorist Carl von Clausewitz reminds us, war is foggy, chaotic, and often unknowable. True realism lies in representing uncertainty and human limitation, not mechanical fidelity.
Overly detailed systems also falter by assuming perfect rationality and control. Real soldiers waver, hesitate, or surprise their commanders. A good wargame includes this variability through abstraction. If every unit behaves identically every turn, you're not simulating warfare—you're simulating chess.
Abstraction in Practice: Modelling What Matters
Abstraction lets wargames model the meaningful effects of combat without micromanagement. Take Chain of Command by TooFatLardies. Its Patrol Phase abstracts pre-battle reconnaissance, allowing players to quickly set “jump-off” points that reflect scouting outcomes. It’s simple, quick, and intuitively mirrors real-life procedures without forcing players to enact every patrol.
Likewise, Chain of Command’s dice-based activation system models command friction. You can't always act with every unit. Instead, you're forced to make tough decisions under imperfect conditions. This mimics the real fog of war, where no commander has complete control. The result is a more realistic feel than systems that offer full omniscience and total unit compliance.
Board games use similar techniques. Block wargames like Hammer of the Scots or EastFront employ hidden information by concealing unit identities. This models fog of war far better than open-counter systems. Supply rules are another area where abstraction shines. Rather than track every crate of ammo, a game may simply require a unit to trace a line to a supply source or suffer penalties—modelling the effect of logistics without the tedium.
Systems Thinking: Interconnectedness, Emergence, and Complexity
Wargames are complex systems. Small changes can yield large effects, and player decisions create ripple outcomes. A well-abstracted game leverages emergence—unexpected yet plausible outcomes that arise from interacting rules.
In a battlefield simulation, a unit gets pinned. That delays a flank attack. That forces a change in artillery targeting. That shifts the enemy’s reserves. None of this was pre-scripted, but it emerges from a few simple mechanics. This is emergent complexity, not designed from the top down but arising organically.
Systems thinking also highlights interconnectedness: morale, positioning, supply, and command are not separate—they interact. Good abstraction allows this by modeling connections, not isolated actions. A breakdown in one part of the system (e.g., disrupted comms) cascades through the battlefield. Games like Kampfgruppe Commander II and PanzerBlitz touch on this by allowing terrain, command distance, and morale to influence one another.
To enhance the systems perspective further, feedback loops could be better emphasized. Consider a morale collapse leading to a retreat, which exposes other units to encirclement, which then increases the chance of more morale tests. Games that include escalating penalties or reinforcements based on previous turns mirror these dynamic loops, a hallmark of real conflict.
Addressing the Counterpoint: Is Detail Ever Better?
Some may point to games like Advanced Squad Leader (ASL) or Combat Commander: Europe as counterexamples—systems that include enormous detail yet remain beloved. They are the exception, not the rule. These games succeed not solely because of their detail, but because of community support, rich narrative potential, and player investment. Even then, many players find them too complex for regular play. These systems highlight that while some players tolerate high fidelity, broad accessibility favours abstraction.
Professional military wargames also validate abstraction. RAND Corporation and the U.S. Naval War College use highly abstracted models for force-on-force simulations, logistics forecasting, and operational decision-making. Their purpose is clarity, not immersion. As statistician George Box famously stated, “All models are wrong, but some are useful.” In military simulation design, the focus is not replicating every detail, but ensuring that models support timely, informed decisions. In short: A model that isn’t usable in time-sensitive conditions isn’t useful—even if it’s accurate. The same principle holds in hobby wargaming.
Toward Playable Realism
Abstraction does not mean giving up on realism. It means focusing on what matters: uncertainty, leadership under pressure, plausible outcomes, and strategic depth. It empowers players to engage with command-level decisions, not bookkeeping.
When done well, abstraction enables emergent realism. It models Clausewitzian friction, the limits of human decision-making, and the unpredictability of combat. A realistic game is one where the experience and outcomes feel historically plausible—not one where every bullet is tracked.
In the end, abstraction is what allows wargames to be both a game and a model. It turns complexity into clarity, randomness into meaning, and history into story. Far from undermining realism, abstraction makes it possible.