The Great Wargaming Food Controversy!

Food around the games table is one of those topics every tabletop wargamer has an opinion on, whether they’ve ever said it aloud or not. Some players swear that a mug of tea and a biscuit elevate the whole experience. Others treat their gaming boards like sacred relics where crumbs must never tread. This blog post accompanies my latest video, where I unpack the whole debate with a mix of humour, experience, and a strong appreciation for well-painted miniatures.

The heart of the conversation is etiquette. For some, snacks are part of the ritual of gaming — they help create a relaxed, social, welcoming atmosphere. Club nights especially tend to become snack-friendly zones, whether through convenience, tradition, or the fact that many are hosted in pubs where the line between “gaming table” and “bar table” is surprisingly thin. A pint and a packet of crisps during a late-night skirmish game is practically a cultural institution in some communities.

But others feel differently. They’ve witnessed spills, greasy fingerprints on tanks, salt scattered across lovingly built terrain, and entire units drowned under toppled drinks. For them, food anywhere near a board is a risk not worth taking. And they’re not wrong — a cup of coffee and a 300-hour painting project are a deeply incompatible pairing.

The setting matters too. Home games can be relaxed; club games depend on local customs; tournaments and conventions demand much stricter rules. No one wants a £500 display board ruined because someone wandered over with a sausage roll.

The video also touches on the playful idea of “tea-and-biscuit generals” and “pie-and-a-pint wargamers.” Do our snack choices reflect our gaming styles? Are these real archetypes or just affectionate myths we tell ourselves? There’s no definitive answer, but exploring these cultural quirks of the hobby is part of the fun.

If you enjoy the social side of the hobby, have strong feelings about crumbs near terrain, or just like hearing wargamers debate the slightly odd things that make our hobby unique, the video linked below is for you. Join the conversation and share your own food-and-wargaming stories — the good, the bad, and the gravy-based.

Are miniature painters doomed?

Occasionally, a question pops into the hobby that stops you mid-brushstroke, and the one I tackle in this video definitely fits that description. It came from Evangelos Georgopoulos, who reached out to me through my blog to highlight an article he’d written and to ask for wider opinions on a rather provocative topic: will AI eventually paint our miniatures? It’s the kind of question that makes you smile nervously, look at your paint desk, and wonder whether the machines are quietly plotting behind your back.

This blog post accompanies the full video discussion, where I take a deeper look at how developments in 3D printing, colour-print technology, and AI-assisted tools might reshape the future of our hobby. Only a few years ago, colour 3D printers were clumsy, experimental machines that produced chunky, multicoloured blocks. Today, they’re edging toward the ability to print miniatures in full colour at resolutions sharp enough to compete with hand painting—at least at tabletop distance. When those printers eventually become affordable for everyday wargamers, the landscape could shift dramatically.

The video explores this evolution from early 3D printing to the modern resin revolution, and into the rapidly expanding world of AI. Sculpting tools are already becoming smarter, slicing software is increasingly automated, and digital workflows are accelerating. The next logical step is a printer that produces fully 'painted' miniatures straight out of the machine... and it is starting to feel less like science fiction and more like something quietly creeping over the horizon.

But the real heart of the discussion isn’t just technological; it’s psychological. Will wargamers choose convenience over craft? Will traditional painting become a niche pursuit? Or are miniature painters simply too passionate, too stubborn, and too invested in the creative process to be replaced? Add in the wider issue of “AI slop” on social media, and the question gets even more complex. We’re already learning to spot fake images online; the physical world might turn out to be far less forgiving.

If you’re curious about where all of this might lead, the video digs into the possibilities, and as always, the conversation is the best part. 

How to Hook a New Wargamer with Just One Game

Every wargamer remembers their first real battle. The first time the dice rolled just right, a unit did something heroic, and they realised this was more than a game. It’s that spark, that sense of discovery, that we try to recreate when introducing someone new to the hobby. But what exactly makes a good set of introductory wargame rules?

In my latest video, I explore that question in depth. A subscriber asked, “What should we look for in a set of wargame rules when you want to introduce a new player to the hobby?” It’s a deceptively simple question that gets to the heart of what makes tabletop wargaming so special. From clarity and pacing to theme and presentation, a great starter game needs to be approachable but still exciting. The best rules make sense as you play, keep both players engaged, and encourage moments of drama and laughter. Whether it’s Bolt Action, What a Tanker, or Chain of Command, the goal is always the same: to create memorable stories and share the joy of miniature wargaming.

The video also touches on the importance of presentation and community. The way we teach, play, and welcome new players says as much about the hobby as the rules themselves. Wargaming, after all, isn’t just about rolling dice. It’s about creativity, connection, and storytelling. If you’re a historical wargamer, painter, or just someone who loves the hobby, this discussion is for you. Join me as we explore what makes a first game great.

The Secret Every Wargamer Shares

Today’s video takes a slightly more reflective turn, looking at something many hobbyists experience but rarely talk about openly: imposter syndrome in tabletop wargaming. It’s that odd little feeling that creeps up when you read comments, talk to other gamers, or scroll through painting posts online and suddenly think, “Everyone else knows far more about this hobby than I do.” It’s familiar, it’s uncomfortable, and it’s surprisingly common. But as I’ve discovered through countless conversations at recent shows, it’s also based on a complete misunderstanding of how this community works.

Every one of us arrives in wargaming by a different route. Some come in through history, others through RPGs or boardgames, others through painting, collecting, or social clubs. Our personal routes shape the way we learn, what we love, which periods we specialise in, and the areas where our knowledge is deep—or hilariously shallow. When you bring thousands of these unique journeys together, the result is a community full of extraordinary expertise, but spread across many different people. The illusion that “everyone else knows everything” comes from seeing many individual specialists at once.

The heart of the video isn’t about inadequacy—it’s about the shared passions that tie us together despite those differences. A love of storytelling runs through every corner of the hobby, whether historical or fantastical. A love of making things keeps us painting, building, converting, and creating. A love of playful competition keeps us rolling dice and swapping tales of glorious victories and ridiculous defeats. A love of learning keeps us exploring new techniques, new eras, and new ideas.

And, of course, there’s the universal joy of playing with miniatures on a real tabletop. Big figures or tiny ones, sci-fi or historical, epic battles or skirmishes—it doesn’t matter. The moment painted figures line up on a table, something instinctive flickers to life in the hobbyist's brain. That spark is one of the strongest threads holding this community together.