Despite the “min-maxers”, the “munchkins”, the “optimizers”, and the “power-gamers” (all good in moderation actually, but some players just don’t know when to stop), bigger is not always better – and even if it is, there are always things bigger than you. It’s a very large universe. Overkill is not always a good thing, In fact, it can be just as far from optimum as an insufficient effort.
One of the classic examples was the priceless enchanted crystal goblet hidden in a locked chest. If you ignored the chest or failed to open it, you missed the prize. If you smashed the chest open, your prize would be reduced to valueless fragments. The proper application of force – a lockpick in the hands of a skilled thief – was the way to go.
In Shadowrun, I usually ran the corporations under a doctrine of limited response. After all, most of the fights occurred in corporate facilities – places stuffed full of expensive data and equipment, and where the defenses had to allow for the constant presence of valuable personnel. The defenders didn’t want to wreck the place. If some intruders showed up carrying knockout dart pistols and flash grenades and dressed in short-sleeve shirts, security was likely to respond with guys in light protective uniforms with pistols and stun grenades. It kept the damage and risks to a minimum, cut down on paying out death benefits, and let them try to interrogate prisoners. The intruders had rifles? Security responded with standard kevlar body armor and light automatic weapons.
If a bunch of intruders were wearing heavy combat armor and carrying assault cannons, it was pretty obvious that the facility was going to be severely damaged anyway – so it was time to call in some heavy military vehicles.
That doctrine tended to minimize damages, casualties, and expenses all around. You could always escalate, but de-escalation was a lot harder.
Once the players realized that they could limit the firepower coming their way, they began making an effort to look harmless, to use the minimum possible force – and to be as subtle as possible. The ideal mission went from one with no surviving witnesses to one where no one outside the group and their patron was ever aware that a run had taken place.
In most current game systems, bigger is almost always better, at least by default. Immensely powerful weapons are unleashed with no regard for the consequences or side effects – and no one worries about where the misses hit. Vastly powerful psionic disciplines are employed and horrendous spells are cast – and the mechanics suggest that there are no side effects and no waste energies.
One simple world law is needed – “Not only do actions have consequences, but overkill actions will often have extremely undesirable consequences“.
For example, take d20 and Diplomacy. Some characters will stack their diplomacy skill to absurd heights, and then try to hammer every NPC they come across into doing whatever they want with their incredible diplomacy checks.
Under that world law, stacking on the bonuses to achieve a diplomacy check of 55 when attempting to get a guy at a bar to buy you a free drink is going to backlash. Maybe the guy will become an obsessive stalker (and immune to further attempts at diplomacy). Maybe your astounding skill will be noted, and the king will have you sent on a very boring three-month negotiation, with heavy penalties for failure or being disruptive, while the rest of your friends are off on another exciting adventure. Maybe Delgaroth the Demon Negotiator decides that you are a threat – or someone it wishes to bind to its service.
Hitting someone in combat so hard that they explode into a fine mist may get you a reputation as a demonic madman or attract some horror that considers you a rival or a threat. Traveling by Gate for a short trip where horses would do just fine may turn loose some terrible annoyance. Using vast powers without dire need is not a good idea when that particular world law is in play.
But characters who exercise moderation in their builds and activities should have no trouble at all.