The Problem with “Optimal”

You’ve built a new Commander deck. You’re excited. It’s fresh, flavorful, and maybe even a little weird. Then, halfway through, the voices start. Not the fun ones. The efficiency ones.

“Why not add Sol Ring?”
“Where’s your Rhystic Study?”
“Only one board wipe?”

Suddenly, your haunted forest horror deck looks like it was designed by a tax accountant with insomnia. You’ve been infected by the most contagious mindset in EDH: the cult of staples.

Staples Are Comfort Food

Don’t get me wrong — staples exist for a reason. They’re reliable. They smooth out games and give decks structure. Like adding salt to food, a few good staples make the whole thing better.

But there’s a difference between seasoning and drowning your deck in garlic powder until it all tastes the same.

If you’ve ever looked at two decks you built and realized they share 40 identical cards, congratulations — you’ve reached the “factory default” stage of Commander.

How We Got Here

The internet made it easy to share ideas. Then it made it impossible to stop. Every decklist site, Reddit thread, and YouTube channel started repeating the same gospel: “If you’re in blue, run Rhystic Study.” “If you’re in green, you *need* Rampant Growth.” “If you don’t have a mana rock, do you even play Magic?”

And look — they’re not wrong. Those cards are good. But at some point, everyone’s decks started feeling like variations of the same playlist. You’re not curating a vibe anymore; you’re copy-pasting a meta template.

“Goodstuff” Decks Are the Junk Food of Commander

There’s nothing wrong with power. It’s just that power without purpose gets boring fast. You can only cast the same six cards before your inner hobbyist starts screaming, “This isn’t *my* deck.”

That’s the real issue: staples make you feel safe. But safety kills creativity.

If you’re nodding along right now, it might be time to shift from optimizing to personalizing. To stop asking, “What’s good?” and start asking, “What feels right?”

The Test: Could Someone Guess This Deck’s Theme Blindfolded?

Here’s a thought experiment: if your playgroup shuffled your deck and played it for you, would they know what it’s about?

If the answer’s no, your deck might have too many staples and not enough soul.

Compare that to something like a tribal or thematic list. When you draw your opening hand and see a string of cards that *fit your identity*, that’s when EDH sings. Whether you’re channeling feline fury like in the Arahbo EDH Deck List or embracing insect anarchy like the Zask, Skittering Swarmlord EDH Deck Tech, those decks breathe personality into every draw step.

Why Staples Feel So Safe

Staples are a security blanket. They promise consistency in a format built on chaos. But Commander isn’t about perfection — it’s about identity. About doing something so *you* that nobody else would think of it.

The problem is that optimization feels productive. It scratches the same itch as organizing your desk instead of doing actual work. You tell yourself you’re improving your deck, when really, you’re sanding off all the interesting edges.

The Soul Factor

A soulful deck doesn’t need to be good. It needs to be *yours.*

When you pull off a janky win with Helm of the Host on a random uncommon no one’s heard of, that’s your story. When you cast a spell that makes your friends laugh, groan, or quote it for weeks afterward — that’s your legacy.

Staples don’t give you those moments. They just make sure the engine runs. Soul makes the engine roar.

Ask “Why,” Not “What”

Before adding another auto-include, stop and ask: does this card serve my story?

If your deck is built around goblin anarchy, do you really need *Smothering Tithe*? Sure, it’s strong, but does it belong in a deck run by a pyromaniac horde? Wouldn’t Skullclamp or Impact Tremors fit the chaos better?

You don’t need to avoid staples entirely. Just use them intentionally. A sprinkle of efficiency keeps the deck alive. A flood of it drowns the fun.

Breaking the Addiction

Try this challenge: build your next deck without using any of the top 50 Commander staples. No Sol Ring. No Command Tower. No Cultivate. You’ll hate it for an hour and love it forever.

You’ll start finding creative replacements that better fit your deck’s vibe. Maybe you swap Swiftfoot Boots for Whispersilk Cloak because it feels more “assassin-y.” Maybe your ramp comes from weird artifacts that look like they belong in your story’s world.

The result? A deck that feels alive again.

Decks That Breathe

You know those moments where your deck just clicks — not because it’s efficient, but because it’s in character? Like when your “Haunted Library” deck topdecks Midnight Clock right as the board state turns grim? That’s not luck — that’s emotional design.

Building with soul isn’t about winning. It’s about playing your favorite movie over and over and still finding new details to love. Every shuffle is a sequel.

And when you play a deck that reflects your personality, your table feels it too. Commander is as much social theater as it is strategy. Your deck is a performance. Make it worth watching.

The Illusion of Optimization

Optimization isn’t bad — it’s just not the point. You can chase efficiency forever and never reach “perfect.” There’s always another “must-run” card. Another tier list. Another Reddit thread yelling at you for not including Dockside Extortionist.

At some point, you have to decide whether you’re building decks or spreadsheets.

If you want a reminder of how this cycle starts, re-read Commander Staples 101: The Cards You’ll See at Every Table. It’s a great guide for identifying what’s “too common” — and knowing when to skip it.

How to Find Your Soul Again

The cure for staple burnout isn’t quitting Magic. It’s rediscovering the joy of bad ideas.

Brew something dumb. Build a deck where every creature is holding a weapon. Make a deck where the only rule is “all art must feature skulls.” Start with a dumb joke and see if it can actually win. You’ll learn more about yourself — and about the game — than you ever will from playing the same five cards again.

You Don’t Owe Anyone “Optimal”

Commander isn’t a standardized test. You don’t get extra credit for hitting the efficiency curve. The only score that matters is how much fun everyone had — including you.

So next time you sit down to brew, skip the staples checklist. Ask yourself what kind of story you want to tell. Then build that story until it sings.

You’ll still win games. You’ll just do it with style.