Adam Davis Fernsby, born in London in 1989, grew up devouring newspapers and playing board games with his family. Today, he’s a journalist, a cultural critic, and a board game expert with an academic twist. Thanks to his BA in Journalism and an MA in Game Design from Goldsmiths, Fernsby has carved out a unique niche: explaining why each component of a game it’s storytelling… and sometimes even politics. We sat down with him to talk about the past, present, and future of board games.

Question. Do you remember the first board game you ever played?

Adam Davis Fernsby. Of course! It was Cluedo, I was maybe seven or eight. I remember sitting around the table with my older cousins and feeling fascinated. The idea that you could “step into” a murder mystery just by moving a token and asking questions was mind-blowing for me at that age. You can’t believe how bad I was, but that didn’t matter, I was more interested in how a piece of cardboard could generate drama, laughter, and even frustration.

Q. When did you realize board games were more than just a hobby for you?

A. D. F. It happened during my university years. I was at Goldsmiths studying journalism, writing about films and politics, but in my spare time I kept circling back to games. I was at a pub with board games playing Settlers of Catan, and I noticed how negotiations over wheat and sheep weren’t just about resources, we were actually doing mini-political negotiations, where trust, betrayal, and persuasion were a part of the game. There, I realized that board gamers weren’t trivial distractions, but cultural microcosms. From there forward, I started blending them into my writing and studying them properly.

Q. So you really see them as culture?

A. D. F. Of course. To me, culture is whatever helps us explain who we are to each other, and board games do that incredibly well.

Q. Can you expand on that?

A. D. F. Think about the progression of cultural mediums. The 19th century belonged to the novel, the 20th to cinema. Today, tabletop games are filling a unique role. They’re social laboratories where we act out stories, conflicts, and ethical dilemmas. That’s why I keep insisting: board games are the new cultural narrative of the 21st century. We must take them seriously, they carry our anxieties, our politics, and our hopes in ways no other medium is doing.

Q. What about video games? Don’t they dominate culture more?

A. D. F. Economically and technologically, yes, no doubt. But board games dominate intimacy. Even in the most social video games, people are separated by screens. Meanwhile, board games require presence. That physicality, that face-to-face negotiation, brings an extra psychologic layer to the interaction.

Q. Favorite game right now?

A. D. F. Nowadays I’m playing a lot of Ark Nova. It looks like a game about building a zoo, but it actually grapples with global conservation politics. You’re not just placing animals; you’re dealing with partnerships, ecological balance, and the ethics of human intervention. It’s the kind of game that reminds me why I take this medium seriously. If you do a quick Google Search, you’ll see those topics are one of the most discussed nowadays.

Q. And your friends, how do they react when you get “academic” at the table?

A. D. F. They roll their eyes, tell me to shut up, and hand me the dice.

Q. Biggest misconception about board games?

A. D. F. That they’re childish. You have games addressing climate collapse, the refugee crisis, capitalism… Those are serious topics that most kids won’t be able to understand that easily. Some games are interactive essays, and sometimes they teach harder lessons than a textbook.

Q. Do you hoard games?

A. D. F. Absolutely. My shelves are bending under the weight, and I keep telling myself I’ll stop, but then another fascinating design comes out and I can’t resist. It’s both a professional hazard and a personal obsession.

Q. One game everyone should try?

A. D. F. Pandemic. It’s an extraordinary design. It teaches collaboration under pressure, resource management, and the reality that sometimes you can’t win, no matter how hard you try.

Q. Do you play solo games?

A. D. F. Sometimes, yes. Solo games are great for testing strategies or just unwinding. They feel more meditative than social, almost like solving a puzzle against yourself.

Q. What do you think about board game cafés?

A. D. F. I think they’re cultural treasures. They democratize the hobby and create communities. I’ve seen total strangers sit down at a café table, start a game, and leave as friends.

Q. How do games reflect politics?

A. D. F. Almost everything carries politics in some way or another. Games aren’t strange to this. Risk glamorizes colonial expansion, Monopoly used to be a critique of capitalism, to name a few. Newer designs are more self-aware though. Root, for example, looks like a cute game… about insurgency and empire.

Q. Who do you usually play with?

A. D. F. A mix. Sometimes old friends, sometimes journalists, and rarely, game designers. And every game has a different dynamic. If I play with fellow journalists, the game becomes debate-heavy, with game designers it’s a critique of the game itself… and with my friends it is pure chaos. That variability is part of the magic.