Play Diary

2006-04-24T11:07:00.000-07:00

Imagine you are playing a game of tennis. The rules are roughly the same as they always are. The only thing that is different, is that your opponent is invisible. It is impossible to know where he/she is on the court at any time. As a result, it is unclear whether the shots you hit will be returned or not. It could be that you hit a great shot, but your opponent was in the right place to return it. At other times an average shot turns out to be great because your opponent is in a position on the court where they can not return it. In other words, the whole concept of good vs. bad play is relativized. Your success is dependent on the reaction of your opponents.

I think this analogy demonstrates the true nature of inquiry in a game. Sometimes it feels like we rely on wild guesses or trial and error to learn how to play a game. Other times deductive logic allows us to systematize our play quickly and form hypotheses about what will and will not be successful. This allows us to successfully react to aspects of the game we have never before experienced.

The ability of a player to learn to analyze and recognize rules internal to a game's mechanic allows players to become highly succesful. Those who continue the strategy of trial and error will never be able to progress past an elementary level.

These two models are based on behavioralist and cognitive theories of learning. If any game teaches the systematized thinking necessary for hypothesis formation and prediction about games, it would be very useful to educators. Unfortunately, we can't seem to make that happen. There are games in which players are more successful if they use analytical skills, but they don't teach people how to develop them. If players already have them, they might be exercised, but that is about all we can ask.

As educators thinking about the learning process as it relates to games, we should be concerned with how we can bridge the gap between games that require analytical skills, and students that need to learn those skills. Thinking that the students will develop those skills simply by playing is much like expecting a blind person to learn to see by looking. It is the gap between video games and education that we failed to address.

Reflections from last week's class discussion

2006-04-10T10:59:00.000-07:00

During class we arrived at some difficult questions concerning the underlying reasons that no video games have been developed which have been well accepted as "educational" games. The idea was even thrown out that labeling a game "educational" would kill it's chances of ever being produced.

In class I tried to put forward the idea that we shouldn't be designing games with the express intent of making them educational, but instead we should be designing curriculum to help people extract an educational experience from existing games. The example was given of books and movies, which are created for entertainment, but can be studied in an academic way to help people learn things about life. That idea was not well received.

I assume that one reason people didn't like my idea is that I compared video games to books and movies. Gamers are very protective of the idea that video games provide a unique opportunity to educate which is quite different from any other medium. Often the experience, the feelings and the virtual words of play are cited as unique qualities which give video games so much educational potential.

Another counterargument to my point is the presence of "play" in video games. Matthew brought up the fact that a book exists at TC with years and years of research on play.

But even in a class full of students interested in games and play, no one had read it.

The book is proof that we already know what "play" is and does. We know there is much to be learned from play because for 10000 years cultures have been using play to teach children life lessons. When studied in these broader terms it would be difficult to find something that video games do which has not already been done. So do we really need to reinvent the way games are analyzed just for video games? I know this question has been answered before and I am not making any friends by asking it. But I have yet to hear a concrete answer to the question; one based on studies which were completed with academic rigor. We have been told that research in this area has been very limited. In recent years research has also been very limited on the theory that the sun revolves around the moon. Could it be for the same reason? Because there is nothing there!

In conclusion, I know there are reasons that my argument that we should design curriculum around video games was faulty. But it wasn't because video games are inherently different than books and reading and cannot be compared. It is because "play", not study, should be the source of learning from games. We can add a study component, but there are still lessons that should be taught by the "play" itself. So I would refine my statement. We should take a look at the potential lessons that games can teach us, and augment them in ways that that players benefit from the games.

Social Interaction

2006-03-27T11:28:00.000-08:00

I will start with a little summary of my gaming activity over the break. I was able to get into "Grow" and "Kingdom of Loathing". Although I am not a big fan of the process of learning a game, I was able to get into both of these games because they are fairly self-explanatory.
I thought Kingdom of Loathing was very enjoyable because of the comical characteristics of the game. It was very simple, but had a Monty Python style of humor which kept me smiling during the entire time I played. I kept on wanting to go on more adventures to see what would happen to me. I also liked the fact that it allowed me to be successful without a whole lot of knowledge of what the hell I was doing. I just had to take advice, go on adventures, then make a few informed choices about how to bulk up on supplies. My favorite part of the game is the simplistic design. Visually, it is almost like South Park; it is so simple that it makes you laugh. The combination of factors drew me in.
Grow was a bit more difficult to get acquainted with at first. I really didn't get what I was supposed to do. In the end though, I think that this is a game which could be highly addictive for most grad students. We are all trained to be analytical and look for patterns. As a result, I found it exciting to play the same game over and over and see how small differences in order would effect the outcome of the game. I really liked the version (RDF I think) where the little player would go around and live a life in the world I created. That causal relationship was fascinating, especially when it involved that funny little guy getting killed.
Neither of these games had any deeper meaning to me though. They were strictly entertaining and humorous. I would play them if I was waiting for an airplane, or just needed a study break at the library.

The biases I bring to a game

2006-03-06T11:33:00.000-08:00

As the semester goes on and I find it hard to pick up some of the newer video games on the market, I realize that my perception of video game fun and of games in general is shaped by the games I played as a child. There is a distinct gap of about 15 years between the time when I actively played a lot of games and now. That gap has been filled with plenty of games, but most of them were more serious. I played a lot of golf but I wasn't playing for fun. I was playing to win, to get a college scholarship, to be the best I could be. So realistically, it has been years since I consistently played games (and new games just for fun). As a result, my idea of what a game should be, and what fun is seems to be caught in a time warp. I am constantly relating my new experiences attempting to get interested in new games with the games I enjoyed. I would much prefer to sit at my computer and play Commodore 64 games to going to the game lab and learning new games. It might be the nostaligia and memories which makes these games better for me, but my experience with them certainly adds an element of attraction. It could also be that as I get older I just don't like learning new things as much. I would rather hang out with old friends than make new ones, so maybe my game behavior is the same.

Decisions and Frustration

2006-02-20T11:36:00.000-08:00

Whenever I learn to play a new game a process of learning the rules takes place. Usually you first learn how to protect yourself. Next you take your first steps towards using the rules of the game to take control offensively. In the process you learn to make decisions based on what you know at the time.
This week I went through these steps while learning to play Bomber Man, an old game played on the TurboGraphixs platform. I was playing with four other players (yes, TurboGraphixs has a five player mode). Instead of telling me what was going on, they just had me grab a controller and figure it out myself. I started as usual by playing very defensively. I was surprised that even though I was a beginner I was sometimes one of the last two players left in this last man standing game. At that point however, things got difficult. The conclusion of every game is a kill-or-be-killed encounter. I was frustrated by my lack of knowledge of the tools available to me, and the functions of those weapons and powers I had picked up. I was more or less subject to whatever the other player did to kill me. Sometimes I won because he or she was killed accidentally, because of misplaced bombs, etc. These wins did not give me the same sort of satisfaction that normal wins provide though. I realized that my lack of knowledge of the game, and my inability to do anything offensively actually meant that I was not determining my own success.
Later in my playing experience I started to master the use of the weaponry the game provides. At that point I was able to attack and kill my opponents, as well as defend myself. This is when the game really got fun. I was able to strategically maneuver, to use what I had learned to gain superiority over the others.
As it applies to rules, I think this means that the more chance is involved, the less ownership and pride a person can take in winning. In games which obviously have a measurable amount of skill it is easier to experience emotions other than frustration or anger. If you use the rules to your advantage you can feel satisfaction. As I wrote last week though, for different people this satisfaction comes from different things. For me, it is not the satisfaction of beating a set of rules which I am after, it is the satisfaction of beating people who had the same rules to contend with.

Interest and Analysis

2006-02-13T05:32:00.000-08:00

When I clean the dirt off my sneakers on the gym floor, it is because I want just a little extra advantage; the ability to cut a split second faster, to defend a little better. Everything I do on the court, from the little things right up to shooting the basketball. firing a pass or grabbing a rebound are done with one goal in mind. Winning.
But this week things were a bit different. In a co-ed intermural basketball game my team scored the first 16 points. We were up by 25 at halftime. So it was clear that our goal, winning had been more or less accomplished. So we switched strategies. We wanted everyone on the team to score. Suddenly the principles governing play shifted. Within minutes everyone had scored except for one person. I noticed fairly quickly that although we were still playing the same game, our new strategy did not motivate me anymore. I was slacking on the court.
I think that competition is usually a central motivator when I play games. Maybe that is why I don't like simulation games. It just isn't the same when I can only beat myself. Now it makes sense why I have never been a fan of solitair.
I spent a bunch of time playing games with my ESL class this week too. Most of them were group games without a clear winner. But I noticed that as long as I set up some sort of competitive dynamic, as simple as it may be that the students get more into it. One example is a vocabulary game in which students help another student guess a word by giving synonyms and antonyms of the word, or telling descriptions. They love dividing into two groups competing to help their group member say the word first (like a competitive Taboo game). I give them points for properly guessing the word and negative points if they cheat.
I would think that one of the basic distinctions in games then is competitive and non-competitive games. You could go one step further and categorize them into motivations. Maybe some of the psychology students in class could help us with that.

Is there really a strategy here?

2006-02-05T10:30:00.000-08:00

This week while playing The Sims and Civilization I realized again why I rarely get deeply involved with video games.
I decided it was time to play The Sims because that is the game that I am supposed to become an expert in. When I decided that would be my game to focus on for the semester I was thinking of a neighbor who played it constantly last semester. I thought, 'if anyone can play a game that much it must be fascinating'. Now I am disappointed. Maybe an hour reading the manual before I started playing would have changed my perception, but I doubt it.
I started the game and was dumped into a city. I had no idea what to do from there. I thought the objective was to create a realistic life for the characters, so I figured out how to start a family and buy a house. What I couldn't figure out was a strategy behind where to put the house, which one to choose, and which family to put in it. I am sure that reading or asking people familiar with the game might have unveiled that strategy, but my lack of intuitive ability to find it detracted from my motivation to play. If different strategies were more transparent in the objectives of the game I might have been more willing to put in the time to figure them out.
After I had my family and house together my dissatisfaction came into full swing. I chose a single father with two children. The game clues told me that I could earn money for giving affection to the two children, so I did that. After hugging one child, the other became unhappy though. I started to wonder if you could spend the whole game going back and forth between the two. The banality of this part of the game got the best of me at this point. Learning how to play involved too much effort, and I had yet to feel any sense of reward.
I moved on to Civilization because it was in the same genre. I had never played this game either, but I remembered playing one of the first simulation games when I was a child and it was lots of fun. After refusing once again to read the directions, I started playing. Again I found myself lost, unsure of the objectives, and as a result unable to find a strategy for the game. But I also couldn't bring myself to step back and figure out what was going on by reading the directions. That sort of investment of time and energy is a huge disincentive for me. If the game isn't fun right out of the box I am probably not going to get into it. An example of a game like that is MarioKart. The game doesn't require effort to figure out. I know from looking at the screen what to do. I develop strategies as I play, through trial and error, and by watching other players. If I practice, I get better. I think that sort of transparency is directly related to the entertainment value a game provides. For "serious" gamers there are other criteria for entertainment potential that can not be met by such one-dimensional games. Until I join their ranks, I think I'll be content to stick with more mindless games.

My first 90 minutes

2006-01-28T12:27:00.000-08:00

I honestly can't remember the last time I played a video game. Maybe two years. And I had never played Dance Dance Revolution before Wednesday, so it seemed like a good game to try out.
Taking my shoes off and stepping onto that plastic pad brought me back to the late 80s. I think we were one of the last families to get Nintendo, but our version came with the PowerPad to go along with the Olympics game. It seems funny to me that 15 years later kids are still jumping around on a similar pad looking at a tv screen. Back then we thought everything would be 3-D by now.
One thing that has changed is the controls. It seemed strange to do everything by foot. Even after playing for an hour I hadn't figured out how to select a song. I was trying to tap the start button the whole time, but I guess it was actually my heel hitting the "B" below that got things going. I only noticed when Gus jumped on to play against me and asked what I was doing hitting the start button.
When I started playing I was jumping whenever the arrow came off the bottom of the screen. Needless to say I didn't do so hot. It was instinctual though, a left over habit from the days of Atari when you had to shoot stuff coming across the screen as quickly as you could. Once I figured out (or was told) that the timing was important things improved, but the combos were still not coming to me very naturally. I thought I'd catch on pretty quickly because I usually good at athletics, but the transfer didn't really happen.
It took awhile to figure out which songs were more difficult as well. I thought the ratings a-d determined that, but then the ratings kept on changing whenever I played a song. I had to be told the secret in this area too. By that time I'd sweated through my t-shirt. It was plenty of DDR action for one session.
I had some more time though so I switched to Halo. I was informed that I might be the last person on earth to play. To be honest, I wasn't all that impressed with it. The only thing that kept my interest was the difficulty of trying to relearn the joystick features. The sight and movement buttons seemed to be reversed from what I remembered of James Bond on N64. That lead to all kinds of troubles. Matthew and I were in two player mode, so I spent most of the time just following him around, or trying to with my impair movement.
On Saturday night I played a Chinese game called "Kill People" at a Chinese New Years Eve party. There were ten players, who each received a card. Three of those cards were for "killers", one was a policeman, and one was a judge. The judge asked everyone to shut their eyes, then only the killers were allowed to open them and show the judge someone who should be killed. The killers then closed their eyes and the judge asked the policeman to open his eyes. He could then ask the judge (with his eyes) the identity of one person. After that, everyone was allowed to open their eyes, and the killed person was identified. Everyone had a chance to speak and put in thier two sense about who the killer was. This was the funny part of the game. We would decide as a group who the killer was, and whoever was voted the killer would be killed. On the first go round, there was no way anyone could really know who the killer was, but the way people spoke was supposed to give clues. The killers therefore, wanted to speak in a way that was either very neutral, or implicated someone else. Usually implicating someone drew attention, so it was a risky strategy. The first couple of rounds group think took over and we all became convinced that one person was suspicious. We killed the wrong person. As a result, when we closed our eyes again, the killer struck, and we were forced to try again. I was struck by the simplicity of the game, and the way that different people distracted attention from themselves. The most successful seemed to be the quietest. They fought the desire to be the center of attention, even thought they were the most important part of the game at that time.