PART I | PART II | PART III | PART IV | PART V
The majority of this five-part essay on Warhammer 40K was written in 2021, back when I was just getting into the franchise and trying to wrap my ahead around all that it encompassed. It was an attempt to sort out the massive amount of information flooding my brain in a way that would help others get into the hobby without feeling overwhelmed themselves. I now have a firm grasp of the Hobby, and can even hold my own in conversations with other Warhammer fans. My feelings, though, remain complicated.
The Hobby, or more accurately, the multitude of hobbies that make up the Warhammer 40K experience, is a lot of fun. Painting and assembling minis, creating epic story lines through gameplay and engaging with the lore in the grimdark future is all engaging and stimulates the imagination. It even creates a sense of community between players, despite the high entry cost.
But a lot has changed since I wrote the first draft of this essay. Prices have sky-rocketed. Warhammer 40K has released the 10th edition of its game, just three years after 9th edition, rendering previous rulebooks obsolete. A new faction has been released, updated codices have dropped, major lore-changing events have taken place. Oh, and fascism in gaming has become a major talking point.
Warhammer Favors the Rich
As engaging as the hobby is, the prices are hostile towards people without large disposable incomes. I have already discussed the massive cost of entry to even play the tabletop game in Part III.
The absolute dependence on hardback copies of the rules and codices is baffling. The rules needed to run factions cover only a few pages, with the rest of the books being dedicated to heavy lore dumps and miniature glam-shots. They could easily provide cheaper PDFs as a digital-only alternative, but choose not to, instead forcing you to pay a monthly subscription fee to use their proprietary app, making casual play of 40K unappealing.
This is made worse by the fact that the rules are constantly being updated. No sooner does one buy a codex than the point values they convey are “rebalanced.” Meaning the information inside those $50 hardbacks become obsolete almost immediately. Then every time a new edition comes out (only three years between 9th and 10th edition) those codices must be re-released for the new edition, and the new core book re-purchased.
And to truly keep up with these ever-changing rules, you will want to subscribe to the physical-only White Dwarf Magazine, which includes info on not only Warhammer 40K, but GW’s other wargames, which may not interest you.
It is technically possible to play Warhammer 40K without money. Using tokens or paper minis instead of the official plastic models, basic rules instead of the core book, data sheets from WaHapedia (a third-party website that collects rules and data sheets for all armies), using books and household objects as terrain, etc. This is doable, but finding players to play with this way is difficult, and everything about GW’s output discourages you from doing this. They have built a community out of the Hobby, and you either commit to it, or play something else.
Warhammer 40K really seems like an impossible game to get into without being invited into it. It’s miraculous that it is as successful as it is with such disincentives to play. It clearly works somehow, but it makes the Hobby seem a little hostile to me.
Maybe Fascism is a Problem, Actually
I came across a great article recently by Tim Colwill talking about Warhammer’s relationships with fascism over the years, and it makes some good points. It’s long, but I recommend reading it.
The article was inspired by a real event back in 2021, where a player calling himself “The Austrian Painter” was allowed to participate in a Warhammer 40K tournament wearing nazi imagery after the organizers decided that they could not legally ask him to leave. This resulted in Games Workshop issuing a statement condemning hate groups and reiterating that “Like so many aspects of Warhammer 40,000, the Imperium of Man is satirical.”
Tim argues that, despite being described as a “satire” by the company and fans, Warhammer really is not, or at the very least not an effective one. In his words:
At best, Games Workshop is guilty of muddled and mixed messaging; corporate custodian of a narratively top-heavy fictional universe, trying its best to plot a course through almost four decades of social change. But at its worst, the company is carelessly complicit in the open laundering of fascist ideologies and aesthetics — a slick marketing machine uncritically promoting the talking points and perspectives of the totalitarian right, in crass pursuit of greater profits.
Furthermore, he argues that Warhammer 40K’s “satirical” aspects have less to do with any actual political statements, and is more a result of borrowing ideas from real satirical sci-fi, such as the Judge Dredd comics and novels like Starship Troopers. Any actual political statements are downplayed or denied by GW.
When fans (or the company itself) point at Warhammer 40,000 and call it ‘satire’, it is really 2000AD that they are pointing to…And yet the differences between the two intellectual properties and their respective stewards could not be more stark: 2000AD leaned into its biting critiques of authoritarianism and xenophobia, maintained a dedicated fan base without needing to ask Nazis to stop showing up at meetings, and now has whole books being published about how it accurately predicted the real-life rise of the fascist turbocop. Warhammer 40,000 on the other hand openly glamourised the villains of 2000 AD, said to itself “what if those were actually the good guys?”, added a bunch of homebrew worldbuilding around the edges, and sent the whole thing off to the printing press without really thinking too hard about what exactly they were trying to say.
There have been a few overtly satirical statements made by GW in the past. There was a scenario written for Warhammer Fantasy entitled “The Tragedy of McDeath,” which clearly satirizes the UK Miner’s Strike of 1984; Margaret Thatcher’s likeness appeared on an orc war-banner in White Dwarf #81; and both Thatcher and the Reagans made an appearance as monstrous harpies in a set of classic Warhammer minis. Notably, all these images were from the 80s, and none of them had anything to do with Warhammer 40K and its setting. Games Workshop in 2023 would never be so bold.
Even if we do accept Warhammer 40K as a satirical setting, the problem with satire is that it is extremely difficult to do well. Maclolm Gladwell, on his podcast Revisionist History, has an episode entitled “The Satire Paradox,” that wonderfully covers the problem with satire and how it rarely sends the message it intends.
In it, Malcolm examines several famous satirical acts, including the character of “Loadsamoney” in the UK and “The Colbert Report” in America. He observed that, despite being intended as mockeries of certain political views, the characters were interpreted by individuals on both sides of the political spectrum as representing their own ideals. No one though that they were the butt of the joke, and nobody changed their minds.
Satire is complicated. It’s not like straightforward speech that is easy to decode. It requires interpretation. That’s what draws you in. That’s where the humor lies. But that act of interpretation has a cost.
A discerning reader can view Warhammer’s massive universe-spanning military-industrial complex as hyperbolic satire, but it can be easy to see why those of certain hate groups might find it a heroic universe where humanity fights a desperate battle against “hostile alien influences” while maintaining the purity of their own race. It doesn’t inherently refute one reading, and despite its statement in 2021, Games Workshop does not seem interested in making its stances clear.
In fact, Games Workshop continues to portray the 40K setting as one where humanity is a lone force standing against the oppressive powers of the “other.” From their official website:
In the 41st Millennium, warring factions from ancient civilizations and upstart empires fight endless battles across innumerable worlds. Humanity stands alone, beset on all sides by the heretic, the mutant, and the alien. There is no mercy. There is no respite. Prepare yourself for battle.
What makes the “Warhammer as satire” argument even more complicated is Games Workshop’s willingness to advertise their grimdark universe directly to children. They have an entire book line for young readers, presenting the Imperium as a heroic force that stands against the evil hordes of aliens that seek to destroy them. As I mentioned in my last essay, there are Warhammer toys and games located in the children’s section of most big box stores.
It is difficult to argue that your setting is an earnest criticism of fascist regimes, while also marketing it as a universe of defiant heroism to children.
My Reading of Warhammer 40K
I think it is safe to say that Warhammer 40K can be problematic, and Games Workshop doesn’t help by putting marketing first and hiding behind flimsy references to “satire” while not saying much of anything. However, I can’t help but love the stories that come out of the setting.
The world of Warhammer 40K, as I see it, is a world of tragic circumstance, where systems of oppression and violence and fear are so entrenched that it is nearly impossible to fight against them. From the guardsmen who are forced to fight losing wars because living on a hive world is no better, to the Space Marines who’ve had the humanity forcibly removed from them and therefore don’t know anything but fighting.
My favorite example of this immovable system comes from the character of Roboute Gullimen, Primarch of the Ultramarines, a creation of the Emperor meant to be greater than any human. After spending ten millenia in stasis, he awakens in a world even more broken and afraid than the one he left (which was not a whole lot better, all things considered). Even he, worshiped as a demigod and with powers and intellect far beyond that of any human, is unable to change the Imperium for the better. The only thing he can do is fight, because the universe is set against him.
Warhammer is full of little tragedies like this. The Tau genuinely fight to unite the universe under a banner of diversity and peace, but the task is nearly impossible in a universe dominated by fear, hate, and actual demons. The poor and oppressed workers of the Imperium rise up to take control of the planets oppressing them, only to discover that they have been set up by malevolent alien forces to be invaded and devoured. The Imperium, the Eldar, the Mechanicus, the Votann, and the Necrons could accomplish great things if they worked together to fight back against the evils of Chaos and the Tyrannids, but between pride, religious fanaticism, fear, and nationalism, none of these groups are willing to work together, fighting each other when alternatives do exist.
For me, this creates a setting where we can explore what it means to be human in the worst of circumstances, and also a cautionary tale about how difficult it can be to extricate yourself from bad circumstances if you let them get that far.
But I acknowledge that this also creates a setting where terrible circumstances are the best that can be hoped for, and where no meaningful change can be enacted. The setting is full of terrible people, but those people are also humanized and made tragic by their circumstances and personal faults. We can empathize with someone without condoning their actions, but not all people are so discerning.
So what I’m left with is a complex setting that brings up questions about the ideas we present and how we interpret them. Are we responsible for the way we read things? If a message can be perverted to serve its opposite purpose, is that the fault of the message, or us as interpreters?
In the End, There is Only War
I like the Warhammer franchise, despite its very real problems. I like the setting, I like the grimdarkness, but I don’t like how Games Workshop handles the property. They charge too much for too little and they prioritize marketing their universe over making any kind of meaningful statements about its setting.
The only advice I can give someone getting into Warhammer 40K at this point is to be a thoughtful consumer, engage only where you want to, and don’t feel pressured to spend money where you don’t need to.
So, what is Warhammer 40K? It is not a game, it is a lifestyle, a community, and a hobby wrapped into one.