The Limits of "Fixing" History: Why the Consultant Behind Puerto Rico 1897 Has Rejected the Game

The board game industry is currently undergoing a painful, long-overdue reckoning regarding its relationship with colonialism, slavery, and the sanitization of history. At the center of this firestorm is Puerto Rico 1897, a 2022 reimagining of one of the most celebrated—and controversial—strategy games of the 21st century. While the game was marketed as an "anti-colonialist" correction to its predecessor, Jason Perez, the cultural consultant who helped develop its new theme, has publicly renounced the project, declaring that it falls short of "real inclusion."

His public critique, delivered via a now-deleted video and subsequent statements on social media, has sparked a broader debate about the ethics of tokenistic diversity in tabletop gaming. The controversy raises a difficult question: Can a game designed around the mechanics of resource extraction and empire-building ever truly be "fixed" through a thematic facelift, or are some foundations too deeply rooted in exploitation to be salvaged?

The Legacy of the Original: A History of Erasure

To understand the failure of the 1897 iteration, one must examine the original 2002 title, Puerto Rico. For two decades, it was considered a "Gold Standard" of board game design. Its mechanics—involving the management of plantations, the building of infrastructure, and the shipping of goods—were hailed as a masterclass in efficiency and strategy.

However, the game’s premise was deeply problematic. Players assumed the roles of Spanish colonial governors, and the "workers" were represented by generic brown wooden discs. Crucially, the game manuals and promotional materials referred to these figures as "colonists." By stripping away the reality of the chattel slavery that powered the Puerto Rican economy under Spanish rule, the original game effectively airbrushed a brutal historical reality. It presented a sanitized version of colonialism where players could enjoy the fruits of an empire without ever confronting the human cost. For years, the gaming community largely ignored these ethical implications, prioritizing the "elegance" of the mechanics over the erasure of historical trauma.

Chronology of a Failed Revision

The attempt to "fix" this legacy began in the wake of mounting pressure from activists and critics. As the industry faced scrutiny regarding its lack of diversity and its tendency to romanticize colonial eras, publisher Alea/Ravensburger sought to breathe new life into the franchise.

• 2022: Puerto Rico 1897 is released. The game shifts the timeline to the late 19th century, following the abolition of slavery in Puerto Rico. Players are no longer colonial governors, but rather local farmers and business owners establishing their own autonomy.
• May 2024: Jason Perez, a prominent Puerto Rican creator and the cultural consultant for the project, releases a video titled: "I Created the Theme of Puerto Rico 1897. Now, I Reject It."
• May 9, 2024: Following intense discourse and "misinterpretations" of his message, Perez deletes the video, citing a need to move away from the noise, while doubling down on his initial stance.
• Present: The industry continues to grapple with the aftermath, as creators and publishers debate whether "consultancy" is being used as a shield for corporate branding rather than a genuine tool for inclusion.

The Nature of the Critique: "Not Real Inclusion"

The core of Jason Perez’s frustration lies in the distinction between "fixing a theme" and "practicing inclusion." Perez, who brought his own heritage and expertise to the project, initially hoped to move beyond a cosmetic patch for the original game’s PR disaster. He envisioned a project that would elevate Puerto Rican voices and engage both veteran and new players in a meaningful, respectful way.

However, as the development progressed, Perez felt that the collaborative process was hindered by what he termed "pit traps"—the tendency for creators to blind themselves to ethical flaws due to the excitement of the project. He ultimately concluded that the industry’s version of "inclusion" was superficial.

"Real inclusion means uplifting creators, not just their creations," Perez stated. In his view, the final product severed the creator from the creation. While the publisher may have viewed the 1897 theme as a "fix," Perez argues that the industry still fails to understand that changing a box’s text does not absolve a product of its systemic origins.

Supporting Data and Industry Context

The board game industry has long operated under the assumption that "historical themes" are neutral background dressing. Data from hobbyist databases like BoardGameGeek consistently show that games centered on "Empire Building" or "Colonization" remain among the highest-rated in the hobby.

However, recent studies and cultural critiques from groups like Shelf Stories and Board Game Barrage have begun to quantify the impact of this bias. When games present slavery or occupation as a "resource management" puzzle, it reinforces a specific, Western-centric worldview that views human lives as interchangeable units of labor.

Critics point out that even in Puerto Rico 1897, the underlying mechanics remain identical to the 2002 original. The game still tasks players with maximizing efficiency and profit. By applying a "post-colonial" coat of paint to a game that was fundamentally built on the mechanics of colonial exploitation, the publisher arguably engaged in a form of "virtue signaling" that did not address the inherent disconnect between the gameplay and the history it purports to represent.

Official Responses and Corporate Silence

The reaction from the broader industry has been mixed. While some fans praised the 1897 version as a "thoughtful update," others have echoed Perez’s sentiment that the industry’s attempts at progress are often performative.

Alea and Ravensburger have largely remained quiet regarding the specific allegations of the creative process being flawed. This silence is indicative of a broader trend: publishers are eager to utilize the credentials of cultural consultants to mitigate PR risks, but are often unwilling to grant those consultants the creative control necessary to fundamentally alter the product’s DNA.

When a publisher hires a consultant, they are often looking for "sensitivity reading" to avoid controversy, rather than a genuine shift in design philosophy. When the consultant’s vision conflicts with the established commercial interests of the publisher—such as keeping the "classic" mechanics intact—the consultant’s input is frequently sidelined.

Implications: The Road Ahead for Tabletop Gaming

The Puerto Rico 1897 saga serves as a sobering lesson for the tabletop industry. The implications of this controversy are threefold:

1. The Death of the "Thematic Fix"

Publishers must accept that complex historical traumas cannot be "fixed" simply by changing a date or a character description on a box. If a game’s mechanics are rooted in the exploitation of a specific culture, changing the flavor text to "farmers" does not solve the underlying issue. It often feels dishonest to the players and insulting to the people whose history is being utilized.

2. The Role of Cultural Consultants

The role of a cultural consultant must move beyond that of a "sensitivity reader." If the industry is to achieve "real inclusion," consultants must be involved in the core design phase. They must have the agency to challenge the game mechanics themselves, rather than just the window dressing. If their feedback is silenced, the consultancy becomes nothing more than a marketing expense.

3. Industry Accountability

Finally, the industry must reckon with its reliance on the "Eurogame" model of the early 2000s, which prioritized mechanics over narrative integrity. As the player base grows more diverse, the demand for games that do not rely on colonialist tropes will increase. Publishers who continue to ignore these calls—or who attempt to address them through half-measures—will find themselves on the wrong side of history.

As Jason Perez noted in his final statement, "Our industry has a long way to go." The rejection of Puerto Rico 1897 is not just about one game; it is a signal that players, creators, and consultants are no longer satisfied with being told that a "fixed" game is the best they can hope for. True progress requires a willingness to listen to those who have been historically marginalized, and more importantly, the courage to abandon mechanics that were never built for a fair world to begin with.