This idea attempts to solve a modern problem and make sense of an old school oddity at the same time. In the end, I think results are mixed. There's something here.
The Original Issue
But how?
OD&D gives a few examples of things that ability scores can do. Most of them are directly tied to a specific game mechanic. The above examples, however, are just stated outright with no given resolution method. It looks to me like the implication from a direct reading of the text is that the referee simply decides whether or not you have a high enough score to do something. This sucks and obviously didn't strike people as the right way to play because the early RPG scene quickly decided they needed a solution. I'm sure it led to arguments at the table; it's practically GM-fiat, lacking that arbitration of the dice that makes us blame Lady Luck instead of the person across the table.
Best I can tell, the question was first officially answered in 1981 by Moldvay's Basic with roll-under-attribute checks, though legend has it that Gygax was doing something similar before then with 3d6 instead of a d20. Until then, I'm not sure what most people actually did. An honest reading of the rules tells me I'm supposed to simply decide that the guy with 15 strength can open things the guy with 6 strength can't. I don't expect people did that for long, if at all.
Let's not even talk about Intelligence and Wisdom outright restricting player choices. Eugh.
The Modern Problem
The party wants to bend some bars to squeeze through a space. The barbarian with 18 strength is the perfect fit for the job. He rolls a natural 3, so he fails. But then the gnome wizard steps up with his glorious 6 strength and rolls a 20, putting him to shame.
There are really two problems at play here, but they both have to do with making multiple attempts on a swingy die roll (and my solution isn't limiting the party to a single attempt - that's a problem too because it just makes sense for someone else to try after their buddy fails). One problem is that the 6-strength individual has any chance of beating the 18-strength individual in a strength contest at all. The other is that this encourages every person in the party to have a go at something when it only makes sense for one person to try it and then the best-suited to step up if they fail. The law of large numbers cheapens tests to the point of triviality.
I chose a clean strength-based example because in a realistic scenario there isn't much random chance at play. Generally, you are strong enough to do a task or you are not. What we refer to as "strength" maps pretty well to a measurable capacity to exert a force. This doesn't vary much on a case-by-case basis. In real world (or verisimilitudinous narrative) scenarios you don't generally have a ~65% chance to be able to lift something. Weightlifting contests aren't decided by a coin flip.
Reversed Ability Checks
The idea here is essentially to use that 3d6 roll Gygax once used but to frame it differently. Rather than having the player roll and attempt to score under their ability score, the roll sets the DC for the ability check. The referee notes the result. Then, anyone attempting that ability check immediately passes if their ability score is equal or greater. Any number of people can attempt the task, but the roll does not change. The person best suited will always do the best. For more or less difficult tasks you can roll more or less d6s.
What's the difference?
You are checking to see whether the bars being bent are bendable rather than whether someone gets lucky enough to bend the bars. Rolling a 3 means the masonry holding the bars in place was worn, the bars were old and decayed and probably weren't that well-made to begin with - anyone could get them out if they tried. Rolling an 18 means the bars are extremely tough and you'll need to get your strongest party member to take over. The player who had the idea still gets to make the check and attempt it, and Buffman McMuscles gets to step in and save the day if it's too hard.
This framing changes the way the check feels without changing the fact that even the referee doesn't know how it's going to play out until it gets there. The randomness of player characters' capability is instead shifted to randomness of the world. You as a player know exactly how capable you are, but not exactly what you're going to face.
When doesn't this work?
Loads of the time, to be honest. While allowing the character with the best strength to shine for strength related tasks is one of the advantages of this type of check, the disadvantage is that the obvious choice is now to always have the person with the highest in a given stat do the thing, and nobody else ever. This means that any character who isn't the best at any one thing likely never gets a chance to shine. I can see this being a problem at some tables, but if preference is given to the character of the person who thinks of the idea, it might not be. Only have Mr Save-The-Day step in if the instigator fails their attempt.
Having a single person with an 18 in the party means any checks for that ability now might as well not even be tested if the difficulty isn't extreme enough to warrant a 4d6 check. Everyone knows if the instigator fails, Baron von Biceps is guaranteed to succeed anyway. This could be a good or bad thing depending on how often it comes up and the table's preferences - it means less rolling and more moving forward.
You can't use it for something like combat, where repeated checks are necessary. Extend this limitation to any instance where there are multiple chances for failure.
So when do I use it?
I think the best way to use this style of check is, like in the bar-bending example, a player-vs-world situation. Climbing? Any player with greater than 3d6 dexterity can make it up incident-free, the rest of you have a chance of failure. It may also work for passive checks like saves - everyone with a save vs. blast greater than 3d6 takes half damage. Possibly group stealth? If every single person in the sneaking group has dexterity greater than 3d6 the group succeeds, else they fail. You're only as hidden as your clumsiest adventurer, but you don't have to go through the near-certain failure of the repeated stealth check.
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