There's another effect, too, and I'm going to explain it by going back to when I was thirteen years old.
I had to write a paper for school about the KKK. The internet was a new and powerful tool in a way I don't think I can explain to a modern audience--suffice to say that the fact I was looking to include an internet source at all was unusual.
I decided to write to a KKK chapter and ask to interview someone.
Now keep in mind, I'm thirteen. My writing style marks me out as being weird as hell. I'm used to being talked down to and dismissed, considered a troublemaker.
This chapter got a fucking Grand Dragon to email me back. If you're not familiar with KKK terminology (I got to be so because of this paper, actually), this is somewhat like writing to someone at city hall to ask if maybe you can interview a local politician and then you get a letter from the Vice President.
This leader among Klansmen was polite. He called me Miss. I told him straight-up that I didn't agree with him, and he was very cordial about it and said he was glad that whether I agreed or not, I was willing to share an underrepresented side of the Klan's story. He was respectful and his answers were well thought-out. At the end of our discussions, he told me I could reach out any time, and that he'd be happy to find a local chapter I could talk to if I wanted.
You see what happened there, right? That was grooming. That was him seeing an opportunity--nice young white Christian girl, contacting him--and running with it.
So now let's get back to the TTRPG.
Your local shop runs a game night and a thirteen-year-old comes in. You can tell just looking at him that he's used to being dismissed, bullied, unseen.
And a guy at your table is like "dude! Glad you're here! Come play with us! You know how to fill out a character sheet or is this your first time? Nah, it's cool, we were all beginners at one point. Here, you can borrow my dice."
The thirteen-year-old starts to look up to this guy. They become friends.
There are two ways this story can end.
One involves the guy being a genuinely good guy. He introduces the kid to a wider group of gamers, helps him set up a gaming group at his school, tells the kid's parents about an upcoming convention their son might like. It's a genuinely good friendship, one that provides a loving and affirming mentor and a safe space for a young person desperate to find his own people.
But then there's the other ending.
The other ending is one where, once he has the kid good and invested in the game, our older gamer guy decides to introduce him to some older versions of M:TG or D&D, saying the games were better before they got so woke.
You know how this version of the story goes. We hear it every time there's a mass shooting. It surrounds every incidence of the word "redpilled." It might be TTRPG, MMPORG, YouTube, or a friendly email, but at its core it's always the same. It's grooming, it's radicalization, and it's dangerous.
But let's rewind. Let's go back to that first night, the one in the game shop where we don't know yet if this is Good Guy Gamer or a fascist asshole.
The DM reads out the V:TM antifascism statement.
Our guy says "hell yeah" and no more discussion is had on the subject. But our thirteen-year-old now knows the guy who was kind to him supports kindness to others in general.
But what if his response is to throw a tantrum? He says it's stupid, leans hard on the existence of wargaming, and eventually storms off in a huff.
A different player, who has no problem with the anti-fascism statement, looks at the thirteen-year-old and says "wow. I'm sorry, kid. I didn't realize he was such an asshole. You need some dice? I've got plenty. Here, let me see your character sheet. We can finish it together."
What lesson did the kid at this table learn? Did he see that the people who find fascism uncool are those who decided to stay and play with him? That they're more fun than Nazi McGee? That the loud, angry, pushy bully so much like the jerks at school is the one who wanted to add fascism to the game?
Don't let a Grand Dragon roll the dice. Announce your table opposes bigotry. You never know who's sitting there and needs to hear it.