Why Face-to-Face D&D Really Matters

Some of you might already know that I am a huge fan of playing Dungeons & Dragons face to face around a table. The phones are away, everyone is present at the table and reacting to one another in real time. Somewhere between the terrible (but infectious) jokes, dramatic character moments and crazy in world hi-jinks something happens that is difficult to recreate online.

You become a group.

Don’t get me wrong online D&D is has its place. It allows people who live in different cities, countries or even continents to play together. As proved in the Covid pandemic it creates options for groups to keep gaming when meeting in person isn’t practical.

But when you can get everyone around the same table, there is a particular kind of magic that happens that cant be replicated online.

Having spent three years working from home, I fully understand how these face to face lessons apply to the workplace. Being fully remote loses the significant benefits of working with your teams in person.

There is more to communication than words

When you’re playing D&D face to face, communication isn’t just about what someone says. You see the beginnings of a grin when someone has an idea. Carol leans forward because they’re suddenly interested. Two players share a look when they realise they’ve had the same thought. Andrew hesitates before suggesting something. You hear the change in Marty’s voice when they’re getting excited. A huge amount of communication happens without anyone deliberately communicating it.

Online, much of that information gets lost. Cameras might be turned off or mics muted. Someone’s face might be reduced to a tiny square on a screen. If you’re playing through a virtual tabletop, there may be several windows competing for your attention.

Funnily enough the same things happen at work. Email is excellent for communicating information. Teams and Slack are great for quick questions. Video calls are incredibly useful and have their place. But none of them completely replace being in the same physical space.

Human beings communicate through much more than words. Cues created by body language are critical in gaining understanding the other person. Sometimes the most important part of a conversation is the five seconds before someone says anything.

The conversations between the conversations

One of the great things about playing D&D face to face is what happens when nobody is technically playing. When everyone arrives before the game and settles in the conversation starts flowing. Two players start discussing what happened last session. while the DM and another player have a quick conversation about a character. Someone tells a story. You end up talking about something completely unrelated to the game.

I can be guilty of thinking of these as wasted moments. I want to get on with the game. However, think of them instead as part of the social glue that holds the group together.

The same thing happens in workplaces. Think about the conversations that happen before a meeting starts. Or that quick chat while making coffee. While these interactions can seem insignificant. They aren’t. Each small interaction helps build relationships which ultimately makes collaboration easier.

A shared physical space creates shared experiences

There is something powerful about everyone experiencing the same thing at the same time. The Kraken rises from the depths. Everyone reacts. The dice clatter on the table, while the group hold their breath. A natural 20 and the table erupts. Moments like this become shared memories. And shared memories create relationships.

Workplaces have these moments too. The project that somehow came together at the last minute. That ridiculous client meeting. Celebrations after winning a major piece of work. The office Christmas party that probably shouldn’t be discussed in too much detail. These experiences become part of the team’s story. Eventually you get a group of people who don’t just work together. They have a history together and that’s a powerful thing.

Physical presence makes collaboration easier

D&D is fundamentally collaborative. Players need to listen to each other, understand what others are doing and coordinate their actions. Being physically present makes some of this easier. You can point at the map, move a miniature, describe a plan with hand movements and more easily react to what someone else is doing. There is less friction.

The same applies to some workplace activities. A complicated problem can sometimes be solved in ten minutes around a whiteboard when the same discussion might take an hour through a series of emails or Teams messages. People can build on each other’s ideas immediately. Someone draws something, another changes it, while the third person spots a problem. Suddenly the group has moved from spending hours discussing the problem to solving it. The physical environment becomes part of the collaboration.

Serendipity matters

Perhaps one of the biggest advantages of being physically together is something that is very difficult to schedule. Serendipity. You bump into someone on the way to the lab. Perhaps you overhear a conversation and discover that someone else has been working on a problem similar to yours. Maybe you mention an idea while making coffee.

Someone says:

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about that too.”

And a completely unexpected connection appears.

D&D has plenty of examples. Someone mentions a character idea while setting up. Another player has a suggestion. The DM suddenly gets an idea. An NPC becomes a central part of the campaign. A throwaway comment becomes an entire adventure. The physical table creates opportunities for those things to happen.

But this isn’t an argument against being online

There is an important caveat. Online D&D isn’t bad D&D and remote work isn’t bad work. Technology has given us extraordinary opportunities to connect with people who otherwise couldn’t participate.

For some people, remote work provides flexibility that is genuinely valuable. In a D&D group, online play might be the only reason the campaign can continue. The lesson isn’t that everything needs to happen face to face. Rather that physical interaction has unique benefits that are easy to underestimate. We should recognise those benefits rather than assuming technology can perfectly replicate them.

Bring people together for the things that benefit from being together

This is where I think the D&D analogy becomes particularly useful for workplaces. You don’t necessarily need everyone sitting in the office every day. But there are some activities where getting people together can create disproportionate value.

Of course you don’t always need an agenda. Sometimes the agenda can simply be “Let’s have lunch.” That’s not wasted time. It’s an investment in the relationships that make the rest of the work possible.

The face to face table creates belonging

There is something wonderfully democratic about a D&D table. Everyone has a seat and everyone’s character matters. The wizard might be opening a magical portal while the fighter is holding the doorway and the rogue is quietly investigating something nobody else noticed. Everyone contributes something different and yet are all part of the same story.

That sense of belonging matters in workplaces too. People don’t just want to know what their job is. They want to know where they fit and to feel connected to the people around them. Face-to-face interaction can help create that sense of belonging because relationships become more tangible.

Instead of being just a name in an email, you’re the person who sits across the table, who helped solve that problem. The person who laughed at the ridiculous thing that happened in the meeting.

The person you know.

Sometimes you just need to roll some dice

Perhaps this is why I keep coming back to the physical D&D table. It’s not because technology is incapable of delivering a good game. Rather, it’s because there is something about being physically present with other people that is difficult to replace.

You hear the dice hit the table, see their reaction before anyone says anything, laugh at the terrible plan, celebrate the natural 20. Eventually, after several hours, you pack everything away and realise you’ve spent an evening with a group of people creating something unique together.

That’s more than playing a game. It’s social connection.

And perhaps that’s the lesson D&D has for the workplace.

Technology can connect us. But connection isn’t the same thing as being connected.

Sometimes we need the video call, the email, or the flexibility of working from home. And sometimes we need to put the screens away, sit around the same table and spend some time together.

Having Freedom to Choose: What D&D Teaches Us About Autonomy

Any long term readers (all three of you) of this blog know that I I love finding parallels between Dungeons & Dragons and teams in the workplace. This is not because adventuring parties are particularly effective organisations. Rather, a group of players all representing characters with different skills, goals and outlooks all come together to beat a common goal. Remarkably similar to teams in the real world. Something that drives both the players of the game and team mates at work is autonomy.

In game players have the freedom to decide what their characters do. Of course, those decisions should matter. It is not at all surprising that the same principle sits at the heart of creating a motivated and engaged workplace.

Autonomy is more than freedom

In his book Drive, Daniel Pink identifies three key elements that underpin motivation in modern workplaces: autonomy, mastery and purpose. Autonomy is the desire to have some control over what we do, how we do it, and sometimes when we do it. It doesn’t mean everyone gets to do whatever they want. A workplace without structure would quickly descend into something resembling a badly managed D&D campaign. Everyone would have their own objectives, nobody would know what anyone else was doing, and the person responsible for payroll would probably be hiding in the woods.

Autonomy exists within boundaries.

A D&D game has rules, a setting, a Dungeon Master, a scenario and consequences. Players aren’t free to rewrite reality whenever they want. But within those boundaries, they should have enormous freedom.

The DM might tell the players:

“You have arrived at the gates of the marble city.”

What happens next is up to them. They might walk brazenly through the gate. Or perhaps they sneak in through the sewers at night. Of course, they might decide the city is clearly too dangerous and wander off in completely the opposite direction. The important thing isn’t that the players get everything they want. It’s that they get to choose.

Choices need consequences

I’ve gone into this in more detail in my previous article and I don’t want to cover the same ground. But there is an important distinction between giving people choices and giving people meaningful choices. Railroading is taken badly by the roleplaying community for a reason.

At work we can ask employees for their opinions, run surveys, hold meetings and invite suggestions. But if every decision has already been made, people quickly learn that their participation is decorative only. Autonomy requires more than asking people what they think.

People need to believe that their decisions can change something. That doesn’t mean every suggestion must be accepted. Just as the DM doesn’t have to allow every player plan to succeed, managers can’t accommodate every idea. But when someone makes a decision, we should be able to explain why it mattered.

The D&D player needs agency

Lets consider two different D&D games. In the first, the DM has written an elaborate story. The players are expected to follow the plot from A to B to C. They meet the NPC the DM has prepared, discover the clue the DM wants them to discover, travel to the location the DM has selected and fight the villain waiting there. While the adventure might be beautifully written the players can begin to feel like passengers.

In the second game, the DM establishes a world, creates problems and introduces characters with their own motivations. Then the players decide what they want to do. The DM responds to those decisions. The players might ignore the obvious villain and become obsessed with helping a farmer recover a stolen cow. They might make friends with the Sheriff who was supposed to be an antagonist. Instead of entering the carefully prepared dungeon they might go straight to the castle, because they found another way to deal with the evil necromancer.

For the DM, this can be terrifying. However, for the players, it can be fantastic. Because now the story belongs to them too. Their choices shape what happens next. That is agency. One of the great pleasures of roleplaying games.

The workplace needs agency too

Lets look at a workplace that gives people responsibility without giving them control.

  • “You’re responsible for delivering this project, but I’ll decide how you do it.”
  • “I want you to take ownership, but please run every decision past me.”
  • “I’d like you to develop professionally, but here’s exactly what you’re going to work on.”

These approaches can create accountability without autonomy which eventually leads to people feeling like they don’t own their work. Instead, they become characters following someone else’s adventure path.

A more autonomous approach might sound like:

“Here’s the outcome we need. Here’s the timeframe and the constraints. How would you approach it?”

Now the employee has something to solve. They can bring their expertise to the problem and make their own decisions. Of course, by doing so they can learn from the consequences.

That is much closer to playing a great game of D&D.

The DM doesn’t disappear

Now, beware, because there is a trap here. If autonomy is so good, it can be tempting to conclude that managers should simply get out of everyone’s way. But that’s not what autonomy means.

The DM still has a critical role. They establish the world, create challenges, introduce consequences and maintain the rules. On occasion they have to tell the players, “No, your wizard cannot summon an ancient dragon just because you rolled a natural 20.”

Good managers do much the same. They establish expectations and boundaries, while providing resources and support. Where possible they help remove obstacles and make sure people understand both the objective and the constraints.

Ultimately, they allow people to decide how to get there. The skill is knowing when to intervene and when to let the players play.

Autonomy creates ownership

One of the most interesting things about D&D is how quickly players become invested in decisions they have made themselves.

If the DM tells the party that they must defeat the corrupt town mayor, the players may care. But if the players decide that the mayor needs to be brought down because of the way he’s been bullying their characters families, the objective becomes personal. They are fully invested.

Of course, the same thing happens at work. People are more likely to feel ownership over an outcome when they have had a genuine role in determining how they will achieve it. Telling the team “We need to deliver this project by the end of the month, within this budget, while meeting these quality and safety requirements,” creates the playing field. the team then decide how to play the game. That’s autonomy.

Failure is part of autonomy

There is one final lesson that D&D offers us. If players are genuinely making decisions, sometimes they are going to make bad ones. They will open the trapped chest (there might be treasure inside…) or split the party (haven’t horror movies taught us anything?). Sometimes they will charge the ancient green dragon head on.

If we want to create autonomy for our teams at work, we have to accept the same reality. People will make mistakes. The answer isn’t to remove their ability to make decisions. Doing so creates a workplace where the safest strategy is to ask permission for everything.

Instead, we should distinguish between acceptable failure and unacceptable failure. A junior employee making a poor judgement call on a low-risk task can be an opportunity for learning. A decision that creates a serious safety risk is completely different.

Boundaries do matter. Within those boundaries, however, people need enough freedom to experiment and develop their judgement.

That’s how mastery develops too. And Pink’s three elements begin to connect.

  • Autonomy gives people the opportunity to choose.
  • Mastery gives them the opportunity to get better.
  • Purpose gives them a reason to care.

Let the players play

When thinking about autonomy, perhaps the biggest lesson D&D offers managers is surprisingly simple: Don’t write the players’ story for them. Give them the objective and resources. Explain the boundaries before letting them decide what to do.

The same is true at work. If we want people to take ownership, solve problems creatively and become more capable, we need to give them opportunities to exercise judgement.

We need to move from: “Here’s what I want you to do.” towards: “Here’s what we’re trying to achieve. How do you think we should do it?” That small change can transform the relationship between a manager and an employee. One makes someone a participant. The other makes them an owner.

Perhaps that is why D&D continues to be such a useful mirror for the workplace. The best games aren’t about the Dungeon Master telling everyone what happens. They’re about creating a world where people’s choices matter.

The best workplaces aren’t either.

Exciting News: Unveiling the Book Cover!

A quick post today. Over the last year or so I’ve been working at turning some of the concepts of this blog into a book. Introducing:

Dungeons, Dice and Decision making: Leadership lessons from the worlds most popular roleplaying game.

My good friend and very talented Keith Turner has hand crafted this awesome cover and I had to share it with you all. Also, I should be expecting the physical proofs to arrive any day now.

The book cover! Drawn by the talented Keith Turner.

The basic premise of the book is: What if you could enhance your leadership skills by playing Dungeons & Dragons. (No surprise for any long term readers of this blog). the rest of the blurb reads as follows:

Running a game of Dungeons & Dragons has surprising parallels with leading a team in the workplace. Dungeon Masters must communicate clearly, adapt to the unexpected, resolve conflict, inspire diverse personalities, and guide a group towards a shared goal. Sound familiar?

This book explores the leadership lessons hidden within the world’s most popular roleplaying game and shows how they can be applied to real-world teams and organisations. Drawing on practical examples from both the gaming table and the workplace, it reveals how D&D can help develop communication, teamwork, decision-making, resilience, creativity, and leadership.

More than just a leadership book, it also includes a simple roleplaying game system along with practical guidance for running experiential learning sessions at work, allowing organisations to develop their people through engaging, memorable experiences.

I’m hopeful that this book will help gamers view the skills they gain playing at the table differently.

Watch this space, I will be sharing more information over the next few weeks.

Following the Serpent: Communication Secrets of Dungeons & Dragons

I recently wrote about the Coordinated Management of Meaning in the context of D&D and wanted to look into this further. The image of Dungeons & Dragons portrays slaying dragons, exploring dungeons, and collecting treasure. And of course, rolling dice! While those things certainly happen, anyone who has ever played a long-running campaign knows that the real game takes place in the interactions between players. Every decision, every plan, every argument, and every heroic speech shapes what happens next. This idea sits at the heart of the Serpentine Model from the Coordinated Management of Meaning (CMM) framework.

The model suggests that communication is not a series of isolated messages. Instead, conversations form a winding path where each person’s response influences the next person’s action. Like a serpent slithering across the ground, communication twists and turns as people react to one another.

As you might imagine, D&D provides the perfect environment for observing this process in action.

Every Conversation Creates the Adventure

Imagine the party discovers a suspicious merchant selling magical artefacts. Much to the rest of the party’s consternation the fighter immediately accuses him of being a fraud. As a result the merchant becomes defensive. The rogue interprets the defensiveness as guilt and starts sneaking around the merchant’s wagon. He’s not as stealthy as she thought and the merchant’s guards notice. Weapons are drawn. Suddenly, the party is fighting for their lives.

At first glance, it might appear that the combat encounter happened because the merchant was suspicious. The Serpentine Model tells a different story. The encounter emerged from a chain of actions and reactions. Each participant responded to what came before, creating a conversational pathway that led to conflict.

The same encounter could have unfolded very differently.

Upon meeting the merchant our fighter asks polite questions. The merchant, initially cautious of the party relaxes. Naturally curious the Rogue starts looking though his wares. A bit more conversational digging and the party uncovers an ring of invisibility that will help them with the heist they are planning. Some friendly haggling and the Party are now well equipped for the next stage of their adventure.

The situation changed because the communication pattern changed.

This type of back and forth is highlighted really well in an in game negotiation that went wrong in my Gutter Rats campaign.

Using the Serpentine Model to Look Beyond Individual Decisions

One of the most useful aspects of the Serpentine Model is that it encourages us to look beyond individual actions and examine the sequence of interactions. This can be especially valuable when a gaming group experiences tension between the players rather than in the game itself.

Perhaps one player feels that another is dominating every discussion. While the dominant player may feel that nobody else contributes ideas. A couple of the quieter players feel there is no room to speak.

Viewed individually, everyone can justify their behaviour. However, looking through the Serpentine Model, a pattern emerges. Each person’s actions are influencing everyone else’s responses. Instead of asking, “Who is causing the problem?” the group can ask, “What conversational pattern are we creating together?”

By removing the avenue for accusations and defensive behaviour the question can lead to far more productive solutions.

The Dungeon Master as Pattern Weaver

Dungeon Masters frequently focus on world-building, story writing and encounter design. Actually some of the most important work a DM does involves managing communication patterns during play.

A skilled DM notices when conversations are spiralling toward frustration. Perhaps two players keep talking over each other. Or another player repeatedly has their ideas dismissed. Maybe the group continually defaults to the same leader even when others have useful contributions.

By recognising these patterns, the DM can introduce small interventions that change the flow of interaction. Ask a quieter player what their character thinks. Summarise competing viewpoints before a decision is made. Orchestrate situations where different characters have opportunities to lead.

Applying small changes in communication can produce dramatic changes in group dynamics.

Learning Leadership Through Play

As you’d expect, the Serpentine Model has applications far beyond the gaming table. In workplaces, leaders often focus on individual performance, decisions, and behaviours. Yet many organisational challenges emerge from interaction patterns rather than individual failings.

For example, a manager becomes more directive because staff seem disengaged. However, the staff become less engaged because the manager is more directive. The cycle reinforces itself.

D&D allows players to experience similar patterns in a safe environment. Players can see how trust develops, how misunderstandings escalate, and how collaborative problem-solving emerges through communication. Because the consequences are fictional, participants can experiment with different approaches and observe the results without real-world risk.

Changing the Story

One of the most powerful lessons of the Serpentine Model is that every conversational turn creates new possibilities. No matter how entrenched a pattern appears, the next response can alter the direction of the interaction.

A suspicious NPC can become an ally. That party disagreement can become a moment of understanding. Our reckless plan can become a collaborative strategy. Every response changes the path. We can help direct the conversation by being purposeful in the way respond. Spot the patterns and if necessary take steps to redirect them.

This is one reason Dungeons & Dragons remains such a powerful tool for learning teamwork and leadership. The game constantly reminds us that stories are not created by individuals acting alone. They emerge through countless interactions between people working together.

The adventure may begin with a dungeon map and a handful of dice, but the real journey follows a winding serpent of communication, twisting and turning through every conversation, every decision, and every shared moment at the table. How you respond can have very real impact.

Dungeons & Dragons and Communication: Surprising Parallels with CMM

I’ve been invited to run some short D&D style sessions for the CMM conference in Birmingham (UK) next year. While chatting to Abbie VanMeter on the Stories Lived Stories Told podcast it became apparent that playing and running D&D ties in very closely to CMM. So for this article I want to look at the CMM communication theory and see how it relates to playing tabletop roleplaying games.

What is CMM

Before chatting to Abbey I had never heard of CMM before. So after a few pointers from Abbie, I’ve started trying to understand what CMM is all about. Coordinated Management of Meaning (CMM) was developed by communication scholars W. Barnett Pearce and Vernon Cronen back in the 1970s. CMM suggests that people don’t simply exchange information through conversation. Instead, they actively create and manage shared meaning together. Communication is less about transmitting facts and more about building a common understanding of the world through interaction.

That sounds very similar to the way we communicate when playing Dungeons & Dragons.

Please keep in mind that while I have my 10,000 hours playing D&D, I am very much a layman when it comes to the CMM paradigm. As such, I encourage you to do your own research into this fascinating topic.

Building a Shared Reality

Every game of D&D begins with a simple premise: a group of people agree to imagine the same world. Which of course can be a problem. As the Dungeon Master describes a tavern one player imagines a bustling medieval inn. Another pictures a smoky pirate den. A third envisions something inspired by their favourite fantasy novel. None of these interpretations are exactly the same. Yet through conversation, questions, and storytelling, the group gradually coordinates their understanding of the setting.

According to CMM, communication creates social realities. We don’t just talk about the world, we help construct it together. A D&D adventure is perhaps the most literal example of this process. The game world only exists because the all the players at the table continuously create it through their actions, questions and collaboration.

Some examples of CMM in interpersonal communication (from Examples.com)

More Than Just Words

CMM argues that meaning exists at multiple levels. A statement gains significance not only from the words themselves but also from the relationship between speakers, the context of the conversation, and the broader culture surrounding it.

This is of course true when playing D&D. Consider a player saying:

“I draw my sword.”

The meaning depends entirely on context. In one scene, it’s a heroic act of defence. In another, it’s a reckless escalation that could start a brawl or even a war. Around some tables it might even be a running in-joke.

The same action carries different meanings because players interpret it through the context of the story, their relationships with one another, and the norms of the campaign. The best players instinctively understand this. They don’t simply think about what their character is doing. They think about what that action means to the group and the story. context is everything.

Coordination Is More Important Than Agreement

One of the most counterintuitive ideas in CMM is that successful communication doesn’t require people to completely agree. Instead, they need to coordinate their actions in a way that creates a shared pattern of understanding. Odd, but what does this look like in D&D.

The lawful do-good paladin may disagree with the chaotic out for herself rogue. The idealistic god fearing cleric may clash with the more cynical warlock. Yet the party still functions because the players coordinate their actions toward a common goal.

In fact, some of the most memorable moments in campaigns emerge from disagreement. In my friends Duskfall campaign, I played an “Old One” Worshipping Warlock who seemed at odds with the rest of the party. At the beginning I was a little worried that the character might cause a rift in the party. If he did I was fine to retire him. However, I needn’t have worried. Despite seemingly being at odds with the other characters, they all found common ground. In fact the Old One cult grew in stature becoming a force in the city and a convenient way to dispose of inconvenient bodies… As players we still joke about the cult of Ygeggos and it has even crossed campaigns and made appearances in other adventures.

The key is that players understand the difference between character conflict and player conflict. They coordinate the story even while their characters argue within it.

This is a valuable lesson for leadership and teamwork. Effective teams do not eliminate differences. Instead they learn how to work productively with them.

Stories Create Meaning

One of the things I really like about CMM is that it places significant importance on the stories people tell to make sense of their experiences. These stories help create coherence and allow individuals to understand who they are and how they fit into the world.

Of course, D&D is built entirely on emergent stories. Characters develop identities through their adventures. Parties create shared histories. Campaigns generate legends that players remember for years. Ask any long-term D&D player about their favourite campaign and they’ll never describe game mechanics.

Instead they tell stories. They tell you about the halfling midwife who died fighting an ancient green dragon. The orc shaman who freed a Kraken from a Glacier or even the party who used their gold to build a theatre to put on plays about their adventures. Who could forget the hanging tree, where the well meaning fighter released the demons on the world. All these really happened in my campaigns.

These stories help players make sense of the experience and become part of the group’s collective identity.

The Mystery Beyond the Rules

An aspect of CMM that particularly resonates with roleplaying games is the concept of “mystery”. No matter how much we communicate or coordinate, there is always something beyond our understanding. No story is ever completely predictable or fully explained.

Any Dungeon Master knows this feeling. You spend hours preparing encounters, maps, villains, and plot twists. Then the players decide to befriend the monster, ignore the plot hook, and start a trading company. Consequently, the campaign becomes something nobody anticipated. Of course, far from being a problem, this uncertainty is often where the magic happens.

The most memorable moments in D&D are rarely the ones anyone planned. They emerge from the unpredictable interactions between players, characters, dice, and imagination.

D&D: both fun and great for improving your communication skills

CMM Lessons for Leaders

Looking at D&D through this lens it seems obvious that D&D is an excellent tool for developing communication skills. Particularly as it forces participants to practice the very things CMM describes.

When running or playing these games players must:

  • Create shared understanding.
  • Interpret meaning in different contexts.
  • Coordinate actions despite differing perspectives.
  • Build relationships through conversation.
  • Develop stories that create group identity.
  • Adapt to uncertainty and ambiguity.

Of course, these are not just gaming skills. They are leadership skills.

Every workplace team is engaged in its own process of coordinated meaning-making. People all bring different experiences, assumptions, values, and perspectives. Success very much depends on a leaders ability to create a shared understanding of goals, challenges, and opportunities.

Luckily for us the D&D table simply makes that process visible. Behind every adventure, regardless of how fantastical, is a group of people engaged in the ongoing task of creating meaning together. And that may be one of the most valuable things the game teaches.

The very act of playing D&D is actually more than having fun with friends. It enhances the way we communicate. We’re practicing Coordinated Management of Meaning without even realising it. Which in turn makes us better at navigating web of relationships and communication that is the workplace, ultimately making us better leaders.

Now that I’ve scratched the surface of CMM, I cant wait to dig deeper and learn more.