Let's Meetup? Board Game Communities in Hong Kong

Abstract

Modern board games are becoming more prevalent, increasing their market share on a year-by-year basis. However, since board games are physically oriented media, their community growth has been distinct across regions. While China saw growth through a wangba model focused on socially oriented games, western countries have grown through hobbyism. Hong Kong exists at a cultural crossroads, and its board game communities form directly in response to this larger board game landscape. In this paper, I analyze the two largest board game groups on Meetup in Hong Kong—Board Game Oasis, an Anglophone group; and BGHK, a Cantophone group. By analyzing six months of events hosted, I will show how board game selection goes beyond player preference, and how these communities are heavily influenced by board game distribution and access, motivation behind play, as well as language dependency leading to two distinct communities further entrenching a systemic board gamer separation.

Introduction

Recently, there has been renewed interest in board gaming, with more and more players looking to try out newly released board game titles (Arnaudo, 2018; Booth, 2015; Butticè & Noonan, 2020; Chircop, 2015; Flanagan & Jakobsson, 2023). Undoubtedly, both classic board games, such as Mahjong or Chess, as well as mass-market board games, such as Monopoly or Uno, have not lost their appeal. However, titles such as Catan (Teuber, 1995) and Carcassone (Wrede, 2000) have ushered in a new style of board games that has been spreading worldwide, especially in the last decade.

In this paper, I argue that the growth of the modern board game has not been equally spread between West and East Asia. Many factors including language dependency, where people play board games, the reason why they play, as well as the distribution methods for new titles all heavily factor in creating strongly separated communities. Hong Kong provides a very ripe location for this analysis through its unique demographic mixture, including both locals and immigrants, as well as both Cantonese and English speakers. I analyzed 279 events spread across two Meetup groups that reflect this division: BGHK and Oasis. I collected various data points including games played, cafés frequented, number of players, day and time of the event, game weight, and game language dependency. I combined these data points with previous literature and field observation to analyze how groups with significant hobbies overlap still shape themselves in distinct ways.

Modern Board Gaming

This new era of board games finds itself more clearly defined through board games’ identifiable authorship (Parlett, 2018) as well as their niche appeal rather than a focus on the mass market (Woods, 2012). While the term modern board games remains contentious (Mayer & Harris, 2010; Nicholson, 2008; Rogerson & Gibbs, 2018; Sousa & Bernardo, 2019), these two above markers are sufficient to distinguish the board games discussed in this paper from classic and mass-market board games.

This board game renaissance became increasingly prescient in this para-pandemic world. During COVID-19 lockdowns especially, sales shot up as people found themselves increasingly pent up at home with all the right ingredients for play—small (family) groups, free time, and a strong desire to destress. There is ample research showing that board gaming during Covid time helped with stress, isolation, and anxiety (Franck et al., 2021; Liu & Doan, 2020; Maresch & Kampman, 2022). Willy C. Kriz further notes this, but also notes how certain board games such as Pandemic (2008) received a greater push in popularity, as they helped players better understand the contagion world they lived in (Balakrishnan, 2020; Kriz, 2020), while Esther MacCallum-Stewart argues that the material shift in board games during the pandemic diversified and reconfigured the hobby, leading to even more growth (MacCallum-Stewart, 2022). Now that social distancing has largely abated, board games have retained their growth in interest, while simultaneously spreading from their household confines into larger, more public, board game communities.

As interest in board games grows, groups start splintering off to better define themselves by the types of games they enjoy. Continuing from Woods’ (2012) division, Micael Sousa and Edgar Bernardo split board gaming into five different types: wargaming, collectible card games, Eurogames, Amerigames, and role-play games (Sousa & Bernardo, 2019). While it is beyond the scope of this article to go into detail about what these types of modern board games entail, it is important to note that each type has associations—role-play games will be more socially involved, Amerigames are more open to contingency and change, while Eurogames are more strategic and nonconfrontational (Woods, 2012), and each of these types has its own fans and detractors.

The Board Game Café

However, as board gamers increase in numbers, community formation still remains hard to tabulate. Many board game communities are simply small groups of friends (Calleja, 2022b), each of which moves at their own beat. However, as interest grows, more and more players seek larger communities, both for a feeling of belonging but also to sustain their interest when their social groups might waver.

Board game cafés are the closest to organic physical community building for board game players. For example, Evans argues that seeing board game cafés pop up in China was unsurprising, as where there are players, then there has to necessarily be a place for them to congregate (Evans, 2020). Board game cafés collate a large selection of board games which players can then play on location. Tristan Donovan states that the board game café model found its origin in South Korea, where by 2004 there were already over 130 cafés that rented out “games and tables by the hour” (Donovan, 2017). East and Southeast Asia followed suit, where China had a boon of board game cafés in the early 2010s. Qianyuan Wang and Jing Luo confirm this surge in popularity of board game cafés in the early 2010s in China, following the 网吧 (wangba, internet café) model—where you pay a cover charge and then top up every hour (Wang & Luo, 2017). However, they also state that this boom was quickly followed by a bust, as many board game cafés closed their doors from an unsustainable business model (the internet does not cost as much as updating board game catalogs), as well as unprecedented levels of competition. Japan equally had a boom of board game cafés with over 450 cafés popping up country-wide (Deplaedt, 2021).

The wangba model in East Asia explains why board game cafés became widespread in Asia before the West. Wangbas signified freedom, relaxation, and community for urban youth (Deplaedt, 2021; Liu, 2009, 2015; Zhang, 2016), making replicating the model appealing. This stated that Europe and the United States quickly caught up—with one exception—the business model. Donovan further states that shops such as Draughts in London maintained the cover charge but ditched the hourly top-up cost (Donovan, 2017, 2018b). Instead, they opted to make money through refreshments of all kinds. Pedro Tiago Carvalho Barbosa confirms similar findings in the A Jogar é Que a Gente se Entende café in Portugal—with refreshments and singular table fees being primary ways of making money (Barbosa, 2021). The distinction between the wangba model and the café model already begins to explain a material discrepancy in the games played across the two regions—if staying at a location comes with incremental costs, then keeping the stay short makes sense.

This stated, board game cafés alone do not necessarily create their own communities, with their own tastes and preferences, without external aid from secondary tools and platforms. While board game cafés provide the location, the amenities (e.g., food, tables, bathrooms, etc.), and the play materials (the board games), players still need to go there regularly, either with at least one more person to play with or with a reasonable expectation that there will be someone there to play with them. Despite their physically focused components, board games’ social organization has also become very heavily online platform dependent—an increasing trend across many hobbies both globally (Nieborg & Poell, 2018), but especially in China (De Kloet et al., 2019; Keane & Wu, 2018, Keane & Yu, 2019).

Established in 2002, Meetup.com is a website where people can search for events by preferences, whether language exchanges or hiking trips, and meet people they may have never met before behind a common joy for a particular activity. Meetup is becoming an increasingly popular means to form interest groups in bigger cities (Girvan, 2022; Pakrashi et al., 2018), including Hong Kong (Kow & Ding, 2016; Yang, 2017). With a large transient population, Hong Kong residents increasingly welcome pre-established groups for hobbies such as board games.

In their research on Meetup events, Lee et al. discussed how even regular cafés can develop a socially meaningful urban role through Meetup by providing a physical space for online organized gatherings, including board games (Lee et al., 2016). They state that regular cafés become established haunts for board gamers because of Meetup events, and their status as cafés where you can play board games was then perpetuated through follow-ups outside of Meetup (such as through Yelp reviews).

Even board game cafés themselves slowly become specific types of board game cafés. Piotr Konieczny argues that board game cafés in Korea often discourage (or outright ban) classical board games, such as Go and Korean Poker, as they are associated with gambling older men. Even though they are also board games, they are not the right type of board games because they do not foster the right type of community (Konieczny, 2019). Konieczny makes equal arguments for the split between collectible card games and wargaming, from Eurogames, Amerigames, and light roleplaying games—while these crowds intersect more, the community formation remains different as the former two attract significantly fewer female participants, especially as toxic masculinity are still present throughout board gaming (Falcao et al., 2021; Pobuda, 2022). Pilar Girvan argues that both cafés and online board game communities such as Meetup contribute to female inclusion reconfiguration (Girvan, 2022) by offering alternatives to male-dominated platforms and spaces. Barbosa also agrees, arguing that cafés’ clean and comfortable social atmosphere was ultimately reflected through an almost gender parity in participants in his researched café (Barbosa, 2021). Equally, Katie Peaker's research on sexism within board game spaces also confirms that certain board games, such as miniature games, are more intimidating to enter (Peaker, 2019), although both Peaker and Girvan argue that gender discrepancies still exist. On the other hand, Zorah Hilvert-Bruce and James Neill argue that masculine aggressive behavior in offline gaming (such as board game cafés) has been de-normalized compared to its online counterparts (Hilvert-Bruce & Neill, 2020). All in all, cafés try their best to foster specific communities.

A café can become a quasi-board game café through an agreed social convention, organized through Meetup or otherwise. A board game café's easy access to the playing material makes it more amenable to forming interest groups around the hobby, but as community formation becomes online platform dependent, the location takes an auxiliary role to the interest group itself, which shapes itself to the community's necessities. In this way, a board game café can become a specific type of board game café through the same community-building process, whether online or offline. Board game groups foster specific communities, sometimes even unintentionally. The physical spaces, the access to specific games, as well as language capabilities all inform how groups form.

Board Games Across Boundaries

Board game spaces differ across borders, as we have seen between East Asia's wangba model and the West's board game café model. Equally, specific spaces prioritize specific games, whether because of personal preference, inclusivity, or otherwise. We have already shown how even payment models influence the games played—the wangba's top-up system incentivizes shorter games. Equally, Carlos Martinho and Micael Sousa point out that physical environment such as decoration, noise, and comfort influence the games played (Martinho & Sousa, 2023), supported by Barbosa's link between welcoming spaces, nonconfrontational themes, and gender (Barbosa, 2021). Melissa Rogerson and Martin Gibbs also argue that cafés (and “third places”) dictate different game choices from homes, as they fulfill different social roles (Rogerson & Gibbs, 2018). As the spaces differ, so do the games.

In China, modern board games are a popular social activity, especially after school and on weekends (Deplaedt, 2021; Wang & Luo, 2017; Zhang & Jiang, 2021). Tingting Liu discusses the Chinese concept of 报复性娱乐 (baofuxing yule, binge playing as a means of revenge) within Werewolf circles—as the neoliberal nine to five life encroached on their leisure time, Chinese board gamers in big cities, such as Shanghai and Guangzhou, played Werewolf through the wee hours in board game cafés to regain social time that they would have otherwise lost (Liu, 2020). Even way before this modern board game renaissance, the relationship between board games and socialization was heavily pronounced, as emphasized in a wide variety of Mahjong literature from the 1920s (Heinz, 2016), contemporary society (Festa, 2007; Oxfeld, 1993), all the way to discussions on digitally mediated Mahjong (Wirman & Leino, 2019). Liu further argues that this social focus makes Werewolf a good modern way to meet romantic partners, further argued by others (Wen, 2022).

Considering that board games are seen as a social lubricant, the board games played reflect this. Social deduction games, such as Werewolf (Davidoff & Plotkin, 1986) and The Resistance: Avalon (Eskridge, 2012), persist as the most popular games in Chinese circles, followed by party games. Social deduction games, existing at the intersection of role-play and party games, involve having players deducing who is telling the truth and who is lying through open discussion and symbolic interaction (Conner & Baxter, 2022). Wen states that social deduction games are popular means to make friends and beyond, even when these games require heavy commitment, such as Jubensha—a mix of live-action roleplaying with social deduction (Wen, 2022). This is also reflected in the board games being designed locally—the most popular board game produced in English from Hong Kong (as categorized by number of ratings on BGG) is CS: Files (Ho, 2014), a social deduction game that encourages constant discussion and socialization. Equally, the cult party game 9Upper (2022) is the most popular board game in Cantonese, already releasing its fourth sequel and a spinoff.

Within the Anglophone sphere, board game groups are much more associated with hobbyism. The Eurogame tradition (Woods, 2012) has its roots in nerdier interests including role-playing games such as Dungeons and Dragons (Sullivan & Salter, 2017), as well as fantasy narratives and fandom (Arnaudo, 2018; Booth, 2016; Wöll & Rieß, 2023) rather than socialization.

While we have seen how Chinese board game players are more likely to play social deduction games, hobbyist board gamers are much more likely to play meatier resource management games which are increasingly pooling onto crowdfunding websites such as Kickstarter and Gamefound. Donovan argues that crowdfunding aligns with a specific type of board game, with a hobbyist mature audience (Donovan, 2018a). Calleja argues that crowdfunding websites gave space for mechanically heavier, larger box games—these games were originally too expensive for shops to reliably stock, but crowdfunding websites eliminate some of these stocking risks (Calleja, 2022b). Heikki Tyni also observes how crowdfunding encourages games bigger games, with miniatures and mechanically complex rules (Tyni, 2020). Crowdfunding has become so synonymous with heavy board games that Kickstarter saw board games outperform digital games in 2018 (Sousa & Bernardo, 2019), despite digital games’ much larger general market share.

As a significant portion of Anglophone players started congregating on crowdfunding websites, and a platform dependence started developing behind the hobby (Nieborg & Poell, 2018), board game designers and publishers took the opportunity to propagate online-based communities. Crowdfunding websites create a codesign connection between backers and game designers, fostering a community based on upcoming releases (Butticè & Noonan, 2020; Smith, 2015; Tyni, 2020; Wachs & Vedres, 2021). Stefan Werning further states that Kickstarter creates a Barthesian mythology for the “Modern board gamer,” that both backers and people within the larger board game community ascribe to and acknowledge (Werning, 2017), which Booth in turn calls “the cult of new (stuff)” (Booth, 2022). These connections necessitate a shared language between crowdfunding campaigners and backers. While crowdfunding websites allow anyone to back projects, they are overwhelmingly made in English, cater to a primarily U.S.-based audience, and even show considerable resistance to non-core audiences through exorbitant shipping costs and primary payment issues. This Anglophone resistance to foreign hobbyists is so apparent that there are now non-Anglophone crowdfunding websites replicating the heavy board game success model. This includes Mainland China with Modian being the forerunner; as well as Taiwan with ZecZec and Wabay both enjoying strong market shares. Chinese-speaking players also want to be “modern board gamers” and members of the “cult of new (stuff)” (Booth, 2022; Werning, 2017). However, until this market discrepancy is resolved, and either Anglophone crowdfunding websites become more equitable or foreign language crowdfunding websites become more prominent, then both heavier games as well as new releases remain in the Western remit, and the types of games present on these websites will unduly influence Western board gamer communities much more.

There are clear differences between Chinese (and East Asian at large) and Anglophone (extending to European) modern board game culture. This distinction in board game cultures is further emphasized through board games’ area-specificity. Board games require physical components, which means that their distribution and dissemination are already less equitable. Digital games can be accessed more easily through digital storefronts, which accounted for 94% of game sales last year (Batchelor, 2022), while board gamers require either a local brick-and-mortar shop to stock the specific game that they would like to play or that they accept paying a shipping premium to have their games shipped from either foreign or online storefronts, which often involves a significant fee for larger sized games. Board games are also often language-dependent, which means access issues are further compounded, as not all East Asian players can speak English well enough to enjoy text-heavy board games, if at all.

Unequal distribution and access ultimately affect board games’ linear growth. While European-style games and American-style games have already been long established as differing schools of board game thought (Woods, 2012)—both in design and intention—there is a dearth of research on what defines an Asian style, let alone specifically a Chinese style modern board game. Earlier research (Deplaedt, 2021; Liu, 2020; Zhan et al., 2020) already shows that board game-playing trends in East Asia are not replicated like-for-like in Europe or in the States. However, discussions about East Asian board games remain focused on individual examples (mostly Japanese board games that have broken into the Western market), rather than larger design and/or playing trends (Calleja, 2022a, 2022b; Deplaedt, 2021).

Board Game Influences in Hong Kong

Hong Kong finds itself at a cultural crossroads, being influenced by both Mainland China which stands over Hong Kong geographically and culturally, as well as the Anglophone world which dominated and shaped both the local linguistic landscape (Finzel, 2013; Lai, 2013), as well as Hong Kong's cultural heritage at large. We have seen that there is also a cultural disparity that exists in board games, with board games in China playing a more social role, and Anglophone board gaming playing a more hobbyist role. The question that persists is whether Hong Kong's ontological position is further being reflected within local board game community formation, or whether specific board gaming practices have come to dominate local preferences.

Stating definitively what Hong Kong-based board gamers play is not an easy task—identifying the “Gamer” has issues (Shaw, 2012, 2015), and the “Board Gamer” no less so. However, we can start making headway. We earlier showed how Meetup is used within Hong Kong for diverse activities from blockchain Meetups (Kow & Ding, 2016) to night hikes (Yang, 2017). Board games are no exception—a cursory search on Meetup.com shows an abundance of board game groups of all sizes, all centered around this growing hobby.

By analyzing the two largest Meetup groups, Board Game Oasis and BGHK, we can develop a better understanding of local play habits which will in turn inform a more holistic understanding of board game community formation. We should better understand how this board game renaissance has emerged in Hong Kong—whether through an extension of the wangba model popular in East Asia, whether through internet hobbyism that has sprung up in the West and made increasingly prevalent through new platforms, or perhaps even from an increased need for levity in a tense modern Hong Kong, with Covid lockdowns and the 2019 situation still casting heavy shadows on contemporary socialization.

Materials and Methods

For this article, I analyzed a six-month period of events hosted on both Board Game Oasis (Oasis in short) and BGHK, the two largest board game Meetup groups in Hong Kong. I ran my analysis from May 1, 2022, through to October 31, 2022. I chose May 1st as prior to this date Hong Kong was still under significant COVID-19 lockdown procedures, meaning that Meetups were much more sporadic, and almost never publicly announced. Moreover, even before the Covid lockdown, Hong Kong passed through a significant period of unrest—this six-month period was the first uninterrupted six-month period in the last few years. Additionally, six months of data is significant, with 108 Meetups in Board Game Oasis, and 171 Meetups in BGHK over the analyzed period for a total of 279 analyzed events.

Board Game Oasis is an English-speaking board game Meetup group, with over 5,700 online members. It was founded on April 16, 2016, by Andes Tung—a local board game enthusiast; owner of Meeple Tree, a board game café based in Kwun Tong; and prolific Meetup power-user—founding at least five groups with over 3,000 members.

Meanwhile, BGHK is a Cantonese-speaking board game Meetup group, boasting over 8,100 members. It was founded almost a year later than Board Game Oasis on April 7, 2017, also by Andes. BGHK's extended title—香港桌上遊戲/互動交友平台 (Hong Kong Board Games/Interactive Friend Making Platform)—already slightly belies the intention behind the platform as a place to make friends.

For each event, I extrapolated a set of data points, listed below. I triangulated each data point with BoardGameGeek (now referred to as BGG), a hobbyist board game website with useful metrics that will help properly measure these data.

The board game played:

Board game weight: a game complexity determiner, measured through a 1–5 range on BGG. A weight of 1 indicates that a child could learn the game with relative ease, while a weight of 5 indicates extreme difficulty for even seasoned veterans.

Board game distribution: whether the game had a recent crowdfunding release or whether they were only available through retail releases.

Board game language dependency: how much language is present on the board game object, with data points of none, some, moderate.

Board game Chinese availability: whether the board game has a Chinese language version.

Board game expansions used: whether new content for the game was recently released; and whether this new content was explicitly used.

Board Game Location: which location was used for the play session.

Player attendance: how many players signed up through Meetup.

Date and Time: at what time and on which day of the week the game was played.

Organizer: who organized the event.

I also noted potentially relevant keywords in the events’ titles and descriptions, such as whether new players were explicitly welcomed, whether the games played were characterized in a particular way (such as party games, strategy games, or even difficult games), whether there were special offers (such as ladies’ nights as well as board game outreach events) and whether the events explicitly welcomed mixed language abilities (especially when a third spoken language, such as Mandarin, is considered).

During this period, I removed any Meetup event that was canceled and/or was posted twice in error. Whenever more than one board game was being played on the same night, if the board games played were clearly stated, I split them up into two separate play sessions. However, if the board games were not clearly defined (either suggested as options, part of a picture collage, or not stated whatsoever), I listed the Meetups as multigame events. I also excluded a few non-board game-related activities from the analysis, such as book clubs and bridge lessons. It is also important to mention that I have participated in three of the 279 analyzed events—I have still analyzed these events, as I do not believe my presence to be analytically significant. However, my experiences will undoubtedly shape and inform this research. Finally, I will also refer to informal interviews and discussions held with local players, event organizers, and otherwise board-game-exposed people in Hong Kong, as well as my own personal observations, to further inform and support the data.

Results

Socialization

I have shown how board game play in East Asia, whether modern board games (Deplaedt, 2021; Evans, 2020) or otherwise (Festa, 2007; Flanagan & Jakobsson, 2023; Heinz, 2016), is deeply coded as a socialization activity. The cafés inception in East Asia was social in nature, as an after-work activity (Liu, 2020; Wang & Luo, 2017), and followed the model of the equally social wangba model (Liu, 2015; Zhang, 2016). BGHK players conform to this social prioritization behind board games—BGHK players play board games as social lubrication, using Meetup to make new friends. On the other hand, while Oasis players undoubtedly enjoy other players’ company, they are more ludically than socially inclined.

This can be seen in event descriptions and titles. Oasis events’ titles were overwhelmingly the name of the game, with “Let's play” sometimes preceding the name. On the other hand, BGHK events consistently positioned their events as accessible and as opportunities to meet new friends. Over 30 events were marked as 派對桌遊日 (translated as “Party Games Day”). Fifteen events were marked as 歡迎新手 (translated as “welcome newbies”). Furthermore, there were 12 女生優惠 (translated as “Ladies’ Advantage”), where women get a $20HKD entry discount, coding the event as an opportunity for fraternization.

Furthermore, BGHK Meetups were much more likely to happen during the weekend than Oasis Meetups, coding them as main sources for socialization. 47% of BGHK Meetups happened on Friday evening, Saturday, or Sunday. In comparison, only 28% of Oasis Meetups took part on similar days. Moreover, Saturday, Friday, and Sunday are the most attended days for BGHK events with 9.5, 7.6, and seven participants on average, respectively. On the other hand, the participation numbers for Oasis events are averaged 5.1 across all days, with no obvious day-related spikes, when three Saturday outlier events are removed. Interestingly, the three outlier events are “Bilingual Board Game Nights” with 36, 26, and 13 participants in each, inviting mixed Cantonese/English/Mandarin participation (with English being the dominant language). They were also coded in the description as newbie-welcoming and focused on light games. When Sinophone players are welcomed into Anglophone spaces, then the games retained the socialization focus.

Additionally, when socialization takes a front-facing role, establishing a consistent community becomes more important. At Oasis, the most oft-repeated game was Terraforming Mars (Fryxelius, 2016) at six plays. At BGHK, the most oft-repeated game was Werewolf (Davidoff & Plotkin, 1986) at an incredible 20 times. As a social deduction game, Werewolf encourages getting to know other players to make character calls. Additionally, if you are replaying the same game that many times, then liking the people you are playing with becomes a prerequisite. Finally, Werewolf is a very light game compared to Terraforming Mars, allowing for further attention deficit from the game for more socialization.

New Games, Language, and Access

Earlier on, I showed how hobbyism is still Anglophone dominant—crowdfunding has become the most prominent method to distribute new games, especially when they are mechanically heavier (Calleja, 2022b; Donovan, 2018a; Tyni, 2020). Moreover, crowdfunding websites form communities and tastes based on current board game trends (Butticè & Noonan, 2020; Smith, 2015; Wachs & Vedres, 2021; Werning, 2017). This has created a game adoption lag in non-Anglophone communities, side-lined because of language or material access. The study data supports this—Oasis players are more likely to play new games, and they are more likely to use extraneous means such as crowdfunding to acquire games. Meanwhile, BGHK players are more likely to play older games available in retail and in their core Meetup language.

Perhaps the clearest standout data points are the number of different unique games being played. At Oasis events, across 108 Meetups, 72 unique games were played for a roughly 67% unique game incidence. On the other hand, across 171 Meetups at BGHK events, only 63 unique games were played for a 37% incidence. Oasis players are twice as likely to play a new game at any given Meetup. At Oasis, if there were three events in any given week, two of those games were likely to be unique. Oasis participants are buying new games at regular intervals and use the Meetup group as an easy way to gather playgroups. Moreover, buying new games seems to be a core part of the hobby—there is a desire to be au fait with the latest game trends, and as part of the cult of new stuff (Booth, 2022).

This discrepancy can be further seen in the games’ distribution methods. At BGHK, 16 of the 63 different games played were originally crowdfunded (equaling around 25% of the games played). At Oasis, 26 of the 72 games being played were originally crowdfunded (equaling around 38% of the games played). Additionally, 23 of the events hosted on Oasis codified that they would include postrelease content (such as expansions). Only five events on BGHK had similar keywords. Oasis players are more likely to seek out new games to play, and new content for their favorite older games.

However, while BGHK players are less likely to play new games, this is largely because access to new games is still tenuous for Cantonese-dominant speakers. Crowdfunding methods make localization into Chinese a secondary endeavor, relegated either to second print-runs or delayed crowdfunding on Chinese language websites such as Modian, Wabay, and ZecZec, which excludes (or at least delays) BGHK players who would want to lean towards hobbyism.

Of the 16 unique crowdfunded games played at BGHK, six of those games only have an English version. All these games have some language dependency. These games had to be played outside of the Meetup's core language. Even with a clear obstacle, players actively participated. In comparison, there were 47 unique retail titles played at BGHK, only seven of which were exclusively in English. Moreover, six of the seven retail games produced only in English had no language dependency. This means that 46 of the 47 retail titles could be played by players comfortable only (or predominantly) in Cantonese. It is clear that BGHK players prioritize ease of play over playing new games, which makes even more sense when paired with the above discussion on socialization—the easier the game maintains itself, the easier paraludic activities such as meeting new people and making friends becomes. The split between BGHK and Oasis is redoubled—both socialization and board game materials create a linguistic rift. However, hobbyism in Cantonese is still growing. Cantonese language board game social media, such as BGPort and 菲's Time, focus on hobbyist games aiming to bridge the systemic gap caused by inequitable distribution methods and language access.

Location

The physical location plays a larger role for BGHK players, as it serves as a community stomping ground. BGHK participants were very loyal to MeepleTree, a board game café in Kwun Tong, a residential district far away from the city center, with all the BGHK events happening there. Since Andes maintains both BGHK and MeepleTree, then cross-promoting his business exclusively would not be unreasonable. However, Andes also maintains Oasis, where players actively play in competing businesses.

I argue that maintaining the Cantonese-speaking community is more important as most local board game cafés have a similar model, community, and game focus—they are focused on lighter-weight games, and heavy on social interaction both ludically and paraludically. This can be seen in other groups on Meetup: Anglophone groups have names such as “Boardgames Rock,” “Gamers on Board,” and “Hong Kong Board Gamers”—they sign themselves as board game groups above all else, sometimes adding subtitles indicating they are “international,” which codes as English speaking. On the other hand, Cantonese language groups have names such as “Little Think Studio,” “Party Ideas Board Game Group,” and “Hermit Café Boardgame”—they focus on who is organizing the events, rather than what is being organized. Building a loyal group of regulars is not only conducive to the social fun they are promoting, but also necessary to keep the business afloat in a competitive market.

Oasis events had more pragmatic location choices—such as price, proximity, and availability. Painkiller hosted the most events at 42%—it is also the cheapest recorded board game café, starting at 65 HKD (whereas most other cafés range from 80 to 100 HKD), rarely enforcing top-up fees. The Feast, a rather large food court, hosted 5% of the events organized. All the events held here started at 2 p.m. latest, with 11 a.m. being the earliest time. This made The Feast a popular choice for early weekend games since Painkiller only opens at 2 p.m.—it also allows players to have lunch more easily during longer board game sessions. MeepleTree still hosted 19% of Oasis events—events hosted by Andes or MeepleTree employees were unsurprisingly hosted at MeepleTree. The remaining two organizers who used MeepleTree were Frances and Kevin. Kevin organized one event—a party game jamboree heavily akin to BGHK's regular showings. It had low attendance and did not fill up the available slots. On the other hand, Frances is a power user on Oasis, hosting the most events across the six-month period—26 in total. In the discussion, Frances confirmed pragmatism plays a significant role: mechanically lighter games are already present on MeepleTree's shelves so events can be organized with greater ease. Additionally, MeepleTree is more spacious than the average Hong Kong café, making it better for games with larger groups. The remaining events were hosted at Hong Kong Island locations, contrasting them with Painkiller, The Feast, and MeepleTree's Kowloon side locations. Pragmatics ruled Oasis events. However, this also makes it harder to speak of an Oasis community, which is reflected in the lack of event membership exclusivity.

In a discussion with a local board gamer, they pointed out that Cantonese-language customer bases became so loyal to their cafés that they even sometimes badmouthed and gave negative reviews to nearby cafés. This does not occur in Anglophone Meetup groups or cafés. While this is partially pettiness, I also argue it’s reflective of why these communities form. Oasis participants find kinship in the larger “board gamer” umbrella maintained in an online, mostly Anglophone, world. The online Cantonese-speaking “board gamer” community is still lacking, so creating a physical belonging, with its associated territoriality, becomes imperative.

Discussion, Limitations, and Conclusions

Despite existing in the same location during a similar timeframe, being founded close to each other, using the same online platform for meeting up, and having significant overlap in player membership, two different board game groups turned out very differently. Even if the platforms being used, such as Meetup, are shared, the circumstances leading to the events implore separate growth, which is then reflected in the games they play, the reasons why they play, where they play, and how the communities grow.

There were several angles that would merit further research. For example, since events were being pushed towards a social, if not at times romantic, angle, collecting players’ gender could have revealed whether elevating the “making friends” angle is more or less likely to make the hobby more inclusive. It also pairs with research on board game sexism. Considering that hobbyism and heavier board games have stronger incidences of sexism (Falcao et al., 2021; Girvan, 2022; Hilvert-Bruce & Neill, 2020; Peaker, 2019), we could find out whether there is a correlation between the games being played, the events being hosted, and participants’ gender. Moreover, it would be interesting to analyze whether coding events as romantically oriented influences incidences of gender-based harassment reported in board game communities (Pobuda, 2022). Player turnover across events could also be tracked to further analyze inclusivity and sustained interest, especially when paired within these same socio-romantic contexts.

Moreover, focusing exclusively on events organized through online social media has limitations. For starters, this excludes preestablished playgroups that meet at set locations using alternate means (such as in-person agreement, Whatsapp groups, preagreed gaming days, or youth-based communities). This makes generalizable claims about local preferences harder to achieve. Literature citations and discussions with involved parties have lessened this shortcoming. However, further research taking a more holistic approach would be welcome.

More importantly, focusing on online data is still not entirely sufficient for players that use online platform organized play, as it does not allow for the collection of data points about more material conditions behind the play. For example, income influences buying (and playing) new games which could also reflect the local/expat divide. Meetup data obviously does not give income insights (although the few free events recorded were unsurprisingly more popular). There are equally lacking data points for proximity to board game shops, willingness to spend on board gaming, actual language ability of participants, games played outside of the online platform landscape, and many other considerations. Whether social concerns such as cultural conflict, especially in a post-2019 unrest Hong Kong, play a significant part in community split is also equally hard to track—this shortcoming is especially prescient since tracking which group hosted more Mainland Chinese participants would provide more socio-cultural gravitas to this study. Finally, personal metrics such as neurodiversity are also not trackable through this method, despite significant data showing a strong relationship between the types of games played and neurodiversity (Cross et al., 2023). Further research will need diverse data collection methods, contextualized within local and global board game landscapes.

This stated, there were still important findings that emphasize language-based inequity in online hobbyist spaces, distinct rebirths in board game popularity, as well as separate focuses on hobby-based socialization. These two groups ended up forming very distinct communities, led not only by individual preferences, but also by the board game landscape that shaped their playing habits. We have shown that there is a larger propensity for board games as a social tool not just in a Chinese context (Liu, 2020; Wang & Luo, 2017), but in East Asia in general (Deplaedt, 2021; Konieczny, 2019). We have also shown how there is a disparity in access to newer releases both because of language dependency, but also because crowdfunding websites are not equal playing grounds—being part of the cult of new stuff (Booth, 2022) is still regional. We have also shown how in lieu of the cult of the new, Cantonese-speaking players instead form a physical community—not only cementing board games’ regionality, but also making the hobby a lot more personal.

While I have discussed how there is a clear division between the game-playing publics in Anglophone countries (and Europe at large) and China (along with East Asia more generally), this bridge is being gapped as the hobby grows. As board games’ market share increases, localization becomes more prevalent, access becomes more equitable, and design choices become more conscious of cross-gap differences, community separation will happen for more pragmatic reasons and more niche appeals. However, there is still a desperate need for serious research on the modern board game within East Asia and China especially, as most research still takes the Western board game monolith as the default.