Tuesday 17 July 2012

Rondo of Blood [Understanding Video Games, Chapter 6]

Chapter six of Understanding Video Games, titled Video Game Culture, seeks to map the cultural position held by video games, already having laid the groundwork for a basic understanding of the phenomenon of video games in the previous chapters.  The authors state their intention of looking at the cultural relationship between video games and other media, how public perceptions towards this new medium have grown and evolved, and how games may be used for different purposes, depending on the group utilizing them.


This examination starts by pointing out that all new media has faced opposition in its infancy.  In fighting for acceptance, any new medium has had to face criticisms of being low-brow, illiterate, and market driven as forms of dismissal in the face of more classical art-forms.  That these arguments are highly classist, meant to maintain an elitism and an entry barrier, in place to suppress the lower classes, does not go unnoticed by the authors.  They cite Pierre Bourdieu, who illustrates similar points, but replaces the term ‘class’ with ‘social group’.  Bordieu’s ideas also point to a ‘culture/counter-culture’ model, where traditional ‘high’ arts are confronted with emergent ‘low’ arts in a constant struggle for legitimacy. 


This struggle has resulted in what the authors term a blurring of ‘high culture’ and ‘pop culture’ in the mid 20th century, with trends such as pop art, cultural relativism, media studies, and cultural studies.  This movement has been an attempt to shed imperialistic attitudes academia has long held towards other cultures, be it along class lines or nationality.   Ironically, media studies has started practicing the same elitism it had railed against, as video game studies are still widely dismissed, as recognized by the authors, although the discipline has started to gain a foothold academically.  2012 was the first year the Canadian Congress of the Humanities featured a series of presentations devoted solely to video game studies, and, while the presentation space was limited, it is still a step in the right direction.  Having attended and presented at the event, I can personally speak to the exciting mix of fresh ideas and opinions presented by all involved.


Another issue the authors recognize is the conundrum of the question of video games as art.  On the one hand, this question is completely arbitrary, as a definition of art is purely subjective.  On the other hand, possible answers determine academic, political, and social acceptance, funding, presentation, and so on.  The problem is that video games are not the only medium still stuck in this quagmire, as television, comic books, and even film, to a degree, are still fighting for legitimacy.



There is an interesting phenomenon pointed out in modern society illustrated by the authors.  Despite (or, possibly due to) fewer and fewer people being able to lay claim to having never played a video game, fears about mental and physical effects of games continue to be widespread.  The most common of these fears is the representation and subsequent encouragement of violence.  This concern is not new to video games, as questions were raised about Death Race back in 1976, as mentioned in an earlier blog post.  It is pointed out that discussions about violence in video games are often framed by examples of youth violence, as it seems, solely for sensational effect. 


Mention is also made of a finding presented in the British Medical Journal about playing video games being linked to increased aggression, and that this increased aggression is clearly considered a detriment.  What is not discussed, however, is that aggression and violence are not one and the same, and that good forms of aggression (self-confidence; ability to be more outgoing; more willing to speak up/speak out) are also possibilities.  Be that as it may, the chapter then details how Mortal Kombat in 1992 and Night Trap in 1994 forced the game industry to establish the Entertainment Software Rating Board (ESRB) in North America and Pan European Games Information (PEGI) in Europe to provide ratings for all video games, much like the movie industry did in the face of criticisms of moral turpitude.


Much like the situation with the film industry, it is clear that media panic has contributed to the reaction against video games, as well as the pressure to form the ratings boards (please note: I do not think the ratings boards are a bad idea, whatsoever.  They serve to inform parents of the content their children are consuming, as more and more people play video games daily).  The authors define media panic as the public’s reaction to the form and content of new media, typically focusing on its effects on the young.  Further, that the news media regularly cites video games as influences in relation to youth violence and tragedy, despite lacking any evidence of said influence, or even that the assailants had experience with the game being vilified, is noted by the authors.  They cite Dmitri C. Williams’ discussion of video game representation in news media, as he mentions how said representation is inaccurate, filled with misrepresentations, and vilifying the games themselves.  Williams indicates that these problems reflect basic conservative fears about new media, while serving at the same time to enforce social norms about gender and age, through underrepresentation of game players who are female and/or older.


Despite these arguments, it is clear that there is still marketing within the industry which tries to sell games based on sex, violence, glory, and transgression (for example, the campaign for Dead Space 2 in 2011, centred around the idea “Your mom hates Dead Space 2”, instead of any mention of the narrative or gameplay).  The authors contend, however, that the most common approach to marketing video games is to aim for people who are already gamers and thus ‘in on the secret’.  This idea is incorrect now and was at the time of this book’s publication, as, in addition to game ads, such as the ones for Mass Effect and Uncharted: Drake’s Fortune (both of which were aired in 2006), more and more resembling movie trailers, there is also the Nintendo Wii’s marketing campaign, designed to feel more welcoming and inclusive to all.


The chapter then details the reactions to video game culture taken by different world governments:
-          U.S. – No legislation as yet, despite attempts in several states.
-          South Korea and Thailand – Government-funded game addiction centres.  Thailand has also implemented a gaming curfew, blocking certain game servers between 10 P.M. and 4 A.M.
-          China – Ban on minors from online games where player-characters may kill one another.  The country has also banned the games Hearts of Iron I and II for depicting Tibet as an independent state.
-          Greece – Ban on all electronic games, in an attempt to curb gambling problems in the country.  The ban was later narrowed to allow video games.
This look at various reactions highlights the dichotomy between considering video games as ‘kids’ stuff’ and the perceived need to legislate this new medium.  The authors actually warn against taking video games as ‘kids’ stuff’, in their discussion of idealization of play.  They contend that, as people, through nostalgia, form perceptions of what play should be, and that play is linked to childhood, these perceptions may also carry class biases via elitism, ignoring the darker, more adult elements of play in people of all ages.


The discussion then returns to video games’ relation to other media.  The authors point out that, as games have increasingly entered into the mainstream, styles from other media, such as film, television, and comic books, have been incorporated.  In this way, these older media have borrowed elements of video game presentation in return, but the exchange is far from an equal trade.  Video games, as the newer medium have taken more style elements from older media as an attempt at legitimacy by way of resemblance.  By this token, however, game mods (modifications) and game visuals are brought into the discourse as works of art, carrying distinct visual styles and experiences, as evidenced by Velvet-Strike and Pac-Manhattan.


Finally, the authors take an extended version of Huizinga’s view that (video) games inform and reflect culture.  Their examples are the satire present in the Grand Theft Auto series and the representation of history in Civilization III.  While this notion is a good idea, the authors do not take it far enough, failing to recognize inherent cultural biases in the games, such as the programmed-in racism and imperialism present in the Civilization games, which Alexander Galloway did see clearly.  The authors do cite Sutton-Smith as indicating that there are subconscious values inherent in game design, but only so far as the games act as primers for behavior, not as reflections of biases.

Mind-Blowing Next-Gen Graphics! (TM!) [Understanding Video Games, Chapter 5]

Video Game Aesthetics, the fifth chapter of Understanding Video Games, seeks to offer an understanding of the major features of video games, in order to better examine them critically.  To this end, the authors define video game aesthetics as all aspects of a game experienced by the player.  To further delineate, three categories are offered: rules (which determine what the player may or may not do, as well as win/loss/scoring scenarios); geography and representation (the world of the game and the effects of the game world on player actions); and the number of players.  An important concept for these categories is that no one of them stands alone; they all interact with one another to create a whole experience.


In discussing these elements, the category of ‘rules’ is the first, as the authors feel that a game is its rules; that is, that rules are a game’s defining characteristic.  Further, they argue that rules are transmedial (not tied to one material or another), and illustrate this idea with the notion of Star Wars Chess or real-person chess.  The scale and visual representation in both examples changes dramatically, but as the rules remain the same, so too does the game itself.  However, the authors contend, while rules define the game, it is context which defines the experience of the game.


Having established the importance of rules in their discussion of video game aesthetics, the authors proceed to offer their definition of this concept: imperatives governing the interaction of game objects and the possible outcome of this interaction.  The authors feel that while rules are, indeed, restrictions, it is these restrictions which shape the experience of play and challenge the player to succeed in the face of these limitations. 


With these concepts established, the authors then refer to a number of academics for a cross-section of different rule-type theories:
-          Gonzalo Frasca – Ludus rules (relating to win/loss conditions); paida rules (referring to game procedures
-          Jesper Juul – Game state rules (basic aspects of the game state at any given time); outcome valorization rules (defines positive versus negative outcomes); information rules (determines information relayed to the player about the game state during play)
-          Katie Salen and Eric Zimmerman – Operational rules (governs processes and victory conditions); constitutive rules (the underlying formal structures which define basic dynamics); implicit rules (unwritten rules which are taken for granted)
At this point, the authors contend that Salen and Zimmerman’s rule types become less applicable as games become more complex.  To this end, the authors use the example of Halo: Combat Evolved, arguing that it is not easy or meaningful to describe Halo based on constitutive rules.  As in earlier chapters, the authors make a claim like this without offering further explanation for their thought process, making the argument fall apart.  In Halo, enemy behavior patterns, weapon power/accuracy, and interactive environmental structure are all based on underlying structures rather than operational rules, thus the authors’ contention makes little sense with their example.  The authors do offer their own rule types, as well: interplay rules (determines relationships and properties of the elements in a game) and evaluation rules (decides which occurrences are rewarded versus which are punished).  From this set of rule types, the following definition of gameplay is then arrived at: game dynamics emerging from interplay of rules and game geography.


This definition leads into a discussion of the next major element of video game aesthetics: geography and representation.  The authors highlight the difference between geography and representation by pointing out that geography is the interactive space of the game world, whereas representation adds to the experience of the game world without having a bearing on player interactions and possibilities.  The authors then make a plea for academics not to ignore graphics and graphical style choices as mere ‘window dressing’.  They feel, as I do, that graphics capabilities and properties may influence gameplay styles, as well as making new styles possible (see the transition from 2D to 3D, as will be discussed later).


Further to this argument, the authors point out that geography, representation, and gameplay are interrelated.  As evidence, Space War is put under the microscope.  There are a limited number of objects on-screen, and the screen could not scroll, but that did not necessitate the wraparound space of the playing field; the view is third-person, as opposed to first-person, giving a different, broader perspective of the playing field; the game takes place on a plane, with X and Y axes, but no Z axis, fundamentally shaping the way in which the game is played based on the space in which it is played; there is a single screen shared by two players, so screen scroll would not be possible, as it would give one player an unfair advantage over the other.  At this point, the authors point out that these design choices mirror the visual aesthetics of a board game, shaping the experience at its roots.


In order to discuss geography and, more to the point, representation, a breakdown of possible perspectives used to display the game world is necessary, and the authors do not disappoint.  Their offerings are as follows:
-          First-person – The game world and action are seen from the point of view of the game’s protagonist/avatar (the authors do not make this distinction, but the player-avatar and the narrative’s protagonist are not automatically one and the same.  See: Dungeon Keeper; Overlord).
-          Third-person – the player is able to view the object/objects under her/his control, such as an avatar character, strategy game units, city assets, etc.
-          Isometric third-person – an ostensibly 2D view, but designed to convey a feeling of 3D space via a ¾ overhead perspective.
-          Top-down third-person – a ‘Bird’s-Eye’ view of the area and characters
After providing these categories, the authors argue for the interchangeability of the first- and third-person views, but suggest that game genres tend to adhere to one or very few perspectives: real-time (RTS) and turn-based strategy games are always third-person, as are action games (the authors point to the difficulty inherent in controlling Lara Croft via first-person), shooters are always first-person, and so on. 


This idea of genres being tied to perspective is a huge assumption, which is also incorrect.  Within thirty seconds, I was able to come up with examples which countered this idea: the 1998 Battlezone reboot is an RTS controlled from a first-person perspective; Mirror’s Edge is similarly first-person, and successfully offers all of the acrobatics of Tomb Raider; the Gears of War series is a highly successful third-person shooter. 


Moving on from perspective, the next major discussion to be had regarding representation is of 2D versus 3D graphics.  Simply put, 2D graphics take place on a plane with X and Y axes, but no Z axis, as mentioned earlier, while 3D graphics have said Z axis.  This Z axis addition transforms the graphics from images on a plane to objects in space.  3D effects, however, are attainable in 2D in several ways (the aforementioned isometric view; scaling bitmaps such as the Mode 7 effects of the Super Nintendo), therefore, the authors feel it is better to categorize 3D games as those which allow movement along perceived X, Y, and Z axes.


Three approaches to game space are then offered:
-          Unconnected levels – when a level is finished, the player-avatar is immediately placed at the start of the next level (e.g. Donkey Kong; Pac-Man)
-          Zone-based Multi-Screen space – the player-avatar exits from one side of the screen and perspective jumps to show the avatar on the other side of the screen in a new environment, suggesting that the view has panned rather than that the avatar has teleported (e.g. Legend of Zelda; Metal Gear)
-          Seamless Multi-Screen space – screen scrolling gradually reveals the game space as the player-avatar moves
The authors assert that these distinctions are important because they delineate between what is immediately perceivable by the player and what must be projected and planned for. 


Following from on-screen space, two different types of off-screen space are discussed: passive, where nothing is happening off-screen until the space appears on-screen, and active, where what happens beyond the frame of the screen affects the course of the game.  The most extreme version of active on-screen space is that of the MMORPG (massively-multiplayer role-playing game), as any one player is experiencing only a tiny fraction of total game activity at any given time, and the game continues its actions during any individual player’s absence.  By this token, two forms of game exploration are laid out: forced (constraints are placed on the player, such as forced screen scroll, a stage timer, etc.) and unforced (the player is allowed to explore the game space at her/his leisure.  The idea of unforced exploration is a potentially sticky one, however, as even “unforced” and “open-world” games, such as Super Metroid and the Grand Theft Auto series restrict full access to the game world until certain gameplay requirements are fulfilled.


One aspect of video game aesthetics the authors feel is woefully under-examined, especially given its importance in the study of other media (literature; film), is time.  Game time is experienced by the player and is subject to design choices in order to shape the experience of the game.  On this note, the authors use Jesper Juul’s two categories of video game time: play time (the “real” time spent engaged in actual play), and event time (the time which passes in the game world during the course of the game).  They do acknowledge that the division only works when the distinction is clear.  For example, there is no event time in abstract puzzle games, such as Tetris, but entire generations of event time in certain RPGs, such as Dragon Quest V or Phantasy Star III.  Further, different play actions may represent different event times (e.g. action games occur in real-time; strategy games may pass months or years within minutes of game actions), thus dictating how the game is to be played. 


The final discussion in relation to visuals is graphical style.  For this discussion, the authors use Aki Jarvinen’s three classifications:
-          Photorealism – attempts to represent reality as closely as possible.  Sub-categories are televisualism (mimics the aesthetics of watching a television broadcast) and illusionism (photo-realistic graphics in service of non-realistic content).
-          Caricaturism – present the essence of a person or object by exaggerating its/her/his most prominent features, attempting resemblance to a cartoon.
-          Abstractionism – does not try to represent people or real-life objects, but is instead about pure form.


To wrap up the discussion about representation, game sound is the final topic in the category.  The authors see two major problems with attempts to discuss sound systematically: sound has received relatively little attention in audiovisual media studies; and generally speaking, people are not taught how to articulate the qualities of sound.  In order to deal with these inadequacies, four categories for understanding game sound are put forth:
-          Vocalization – voices of characters, including voiceover and off-screen elements.
-          Sound effects – sounds made by in-game objects.
-          Ambient effects – sounds which add to the atmosphere of the game world without impacting gameplay.
-          Music – the soundtrack of the game, which may be atmospheric and/or also directly diagetic.
One of the most interesting claims the authors make in regard to video game sound design is that it is not strictly realist, but instead needs to offer the feeling of realism.  The problem is that, outside of looking at the purely technological aspect (randomized sounds versus a sound loop), they do not explore the implications inherent in the idea.


The authors conclude by saying that video games are an anomaly in the wider sphere of games and play, as the majority of them only require one player.  The problem with this idea is twofold.  First, if one considers puzzles games, then there is a large contingent of single-player traditional games: jigsaw puzzles; crossword puzzles; Sudoku; anagrams; etc.  Secondly, the authors do not consider the idea of the developers who created the game with which the single player is engaged as a form of opposing player.

The Song of Time [Understanding Video Games, Chapter 4]

The fourth chapter in Understanding Video Games, entitled History, attempts to offer what the chapter’s title promises, but unfortunately, there are some large missteps along the way which call the entire chapter into question.  The authors start out with a ‘pre-history’ of video games, beginning with board games dating back to Third Dynasty Egypt (2686-2613 B.C.E).  They broadly track the emergence and evolution of board games, card games, games of chance, and sports throughout the centuries and across continents.  The discussion then becomes more focused with an examination of the progression from symbol to overt simulation in board games is presented, prominently citing Monopoly and commenting on the game’s fostering of capitalist values.  Here is the first misstep, as the authors do not consider the idea that Monopoly, through its system of destroying friends to get ahead is actually a critique of capitalist values, not an affirmation of them.


This pre-history then charts the rise of strategic table-top war-gaming in the wake of World War II.  This rise in war-gaming’s popularity is one of the phenomena the authors attribute to the rise and influence of table-top role-playing games (RPGs) in the mid-20th century.  One of the other aspects the authors credit is the supposed introduction of fantasy literature with the 1954 publication of Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings.  Once again, this is a rather large assumption to make.  Even ignoring the pulp novels of the early 20th century and the massive popularity of Victorian penny dreadful novels, many of which dealt in fantasy material, Tolkien’s own The Hobbit was first published in 1937, well before the authors’ purported ’54 introduction of fantasy literature.


The authors describe how content plays out in Dungeons and Dragons (incorrectly) and argue that older RPGs were more focused on accumulating treasure and points, rather than the focus on dialogue, character and storytelling of modern RPGs (a subjective interpretation based on certain assumptions about play style).  This description is in service to a charting of the rise of RPGs and attendant concerns about these games encouraging youth suicide, criminal behavior, violence and blasphemy.  While the authors describe this reaction, they do not take the extra step to show how video games have faced the same criticisms, despite going on to point out how video game RPGs have adopted many of the trappings, both aesthetic and system-based, of table-top RPGs.


The authors then proceed to ask the question: ‘does history matter’?  Their answer is that, while it is not necessarily required knowledge when studying the phenomena of specific game subjects (their example is how teenagers play World of Warcraft (WoW) versus how their parents played Pac-Man), history allows for an understanding of the wider significance of contemporary games, and their cultural position in contemporary society.  This affirmative answer only serves to negate their negative counter-point (WoW versus Pac-Man), because that particular comparison may be irrelevant but comparing WoW to the original Neverwinter Nights (SSI, 1991) or even to Gauntlet (Midway, 1985) is of utmost importance in studying and predicting similar trends.  Furthermore, the relevance of WoW versus Pac-Man is an incorrect assumption, as both games may be examined as phenomena of teenage social interaction, further negating their counter-argument.


The discussion then proceeds to a history of video games themselves.  The structure for this documentation of history is odd, however, in that rather than strictly offering a chronological examination, the authors offer broad trends/important milestones, and then follow up with an examination of a particular decade based on the four genres they had established in the previous chapter, as though the genres did not influence each other whatsoever.

This history starts with three possible progenitors of video games being offered: A.S. Douglas’ tic-tac-toe program for the EDSAC (Electronic Delay Storage Automatic Calculator) in 1951; William Higinbotham’s oscilloscope table tennis at Brookhaven National Lab in 1958; and Space War, developed at MIT in 1962 by Steven Russell, Wayne Wittanen, and J.M. Graetz.  Without explicitly choosing one as the genesis of video games, the authors instead choose to focus on the evolution of Space War, and how it started receiving user modifications as it was freely disseminated throughout the 1960s.  The next major note is the development of the first home video game console prototype by Ralph Baer in 1967 and his partnership with Magnavox the next year.


The first decade to get its own discussion is the 1970s, as the authors contend that this was the era which saw the rise of video games as an industry.  The main reason for this contention is the rise of Nolan Bushnell and Atari, whose revenue went from $3 million in 1973 to $20 million by the end of the decade.  This meteoric rise in revenues is attributable to the success of Pong (1974) after the initial failure of Computer Space (1970), and the release of the Atari Video Comupter System (VCS, or more commonly known as the Atari 2600).  The progression to the VCS is mapped out, from Ralph Baer’s Magnavox Odyssey (the commercial release of Baer’s ‘60s prototype) to the Channel F (the first console to feature swappable cartridge games) in 1976 to the release of the VCS.  The authors note that, aside from the transistor-based Odyssey, none of these systems would be possible without the invention of the microprocessor in 1972.

In the discussion of genres, the authors follow the evolution of action-based games in the ‘70s from the failure of Computer Space, to the success of Pong.  In this period, they see the emergence of new gameplay experiences, from the active, simple combat of Tank and Gunfight to first-person driving in Night Driver, as well as the cultural impact of Space Invaders and Asteroids.  They also note the first rumblings about violence in video games with 1976’s Death Race, in which the players compete to run over stick figures (not noting that the game is clearly inspired by 1974’s Death Race 2000).  The authors also touch on the emergence of text adventure games as an alternative to action games, noting the influence of table-top RPGs on these games.  They also discuss the emergence of MUD (Multi-User Dungeon) and the establishment of basic ideas which would evolve into contemporary Massively Multiplayer RPGs.


Once the authors start discussing the 1980s, however, problems emerge.  While they do correctly cite the ‘80s Video Game Crash as an important turning point in video game history, they incorrectly cite it as taking place in 1984, instead of 1983.  Further, they feel that the failure of E.T. for the Atari 2600 was a warning sign of the crash, rather than one of the major instigators, despite the game being such a failure that Atari in its original form never recovered from it.  The problems continue as the discussion turns to the release of the Nintendo Entertainment System’s (NES) release bringing the video game industry back from the brink of extinction.  They incorrectly cite the release of the NES as 1986, when it was released in the fall of 1985, a full year before their claim.  Additionally, they note the relationship between the military and video games, as with the U.S. Army-commissioned version of Battlezone as a training simulator, and the rise in popularity of turn-based strategy games.  They fail, however, to discuss the Cold War tensions present in those games (outside of a brief note on 1985’s Balance of Power) or the reflections of these tensions and Reagan-era America in games such as Missile Command and Contra.


The examination of the 1990s is, for the most part, better constructed and researched.  The authors discuss the shift from 2D graphics to 3D polygonal representation.  This shift is the result of more powerful hardware (Sony PlayStation; Nintendo 64) and the emergence and meteoric rise in popularity of first-person shooters, with the arrival of Wolfenstein 3D in 1992, and Doom the following year. This era also sees a sharp increase in the concerns over violence in video games as graphics and/or controls become more realistic, with the Mortal Kombat series and Carmageddon being notable examples.  Another major milestone of the 1990s is the release of Myst in 1994, as it is the first game to be taken as more than a novelty by the media.  Myst was widely reviewed in literature and media sections of newspapers and magazines, legitimizing, if not the video game industry en masse, then at the very least the point-and-click adventure genre.  The authors do make another misstep in discussing the emergence of massively-multiplayer RPGs, in that they cite Ultima Online’s 1997 release as the first majorly successful graphics-oriented MMO.  The problem is that they are six years too late, as the original Neverwinter Nights was designed for the emerging America OnLine network in 1991, and was the first successful graphics-based MMO, running until 1997 and claiming 115,000 users at its peak.


As the chapter moves into the 2000s, history gives way to contemporary examination and future speculation.  As the book was published in 2007, an examination of the decade as a whole was simply not possible.  The authors do notice a trend toward conservatism in development during the decade, however, due to inflating development budgets and the subsequent high cost of failure.  They also comment on how increased budgets have edged out smaller developers, a valid fact which has since been countered with the rise of the indie developer movement and the emergence of downloadable distribution.  Interestingly, one of the predictions made has come to bear in a way not even the authors could have foreseen.  While they forecast an increase in the popularity of mobile gaming, the iPhone and iPad gaming scenes have become so monolithic that traditional portable game systems (Nintendo’s 3DS; Sony’s PSVita) have been severely impacted.  Their other predictions are similarly accurate: that narrative will always have a place in games (five years later, narrative is more important than ever, despite an increase in importance of multiplayer); declining PC importance may dissuade developers from making PC games (not entirely accurate, but PC games certainly are taking a back seat to console development, for the most part); and the rise of indie developers through the use of online distribution (a fact which has already been mentioned).


While these predictions are accurate, the chapter as a whole faces a question of integrity due to the sheer amount of facts left out or represented incorrectly, as well as ideas which are not properly given the correct linkages.  The chapter certainly is not a complete loss, but it also is not the comprehensive overview the authors claim it to be.

Now You're Playing With Power! [Understanding Video Games, Chapter 3]

What is a Game?, the third chapter of Egenfeldt Nielsen, Heide Smith, and Pajares Tosca’s book is the first chapter to really delve into the theories behind not just video gaming, but games in general.  The chapter is dense with information, and it is not co-incidental that it is double the length of the chapters preceding it.  The authors preface the chapter with an expression of explicit concern about adhering to a single methodological approach, due to the biases inherent in methodologies which may tend towards overly-specific criteria/focuses.


From this cautionary starting point, the authors offer several potential answers to the question in the chapter’s title.  The first examination they provide is Wittgenstein’s contention that there are no common features shared amongst all games, thus a unified definition is impossible, and that the most one can hope for is ‘family resemblances’.  The authors critique this view, asserting that Wittgenstein did not try to find the commonalities in games, merely offering a few examples which do not share certain features in order to further his argument.  They also point out that Wittgenstein does not differentiate between formal games, such as chess, and informal games, such as ring-around-the-rosy.


The authors then move to Johann Huizinga’s seminal 1938 text, Homo Ludens.  As the book was written in ’38, it clearly cannot address video games as a medium, but what it does is offer context for understanding all games, as well as underscoring the importance of play as a cultural phenomenon.  Huizinga puts forth the theory of the ‘magic circle’, in which playing a game sets a person apart from outside reality.  This setting apart is possible because the game exists as its own separate reality with attendant rules and expectations.  The authors criticize the idea of the magic circle by contending that there are several activities in which people submit themselves to special rules and norms which do not apply outside of those specific contexts (their examples include classes/exams, workplaces, and nightlife activities). 


The authors also cite Edward Castranova, arguing for the preservation of the magic circle in the face of the loss of fantasy (i.e. real-world encroachment), in order for games to maintain their unique appeal.  The problem with Castranova’s argument is that it precludes the idea that real-world encroachment can create or foster different kinds of fantasy, based on real-world influences, and/or alter previously held fantasies, ostensibly for the better. 


The authors offer another, extremely strong, counter to Huizinga’s magic circle.  They contend that games do, in fact, have real-world consequences, providing the following list as examples:
-          Games require time
-          Games affect the mood of the player
-          Video games are a communication medium [like it or not]
-          Games affect behavior/bias decisions [a concept clearly linked to the notion of games as communication medium]
-          May directly affect outside world (i.e. economic blurring, such as the real-money auction house in Diablo III)
Because of this list of assertions, the authors conclude that Huizinga’s magic circle is really only useful as a bracketing device to be used by formalists.


The authors then look to Roger Callois, and his 1958 book, Man, Play, and Games.  Again, the book is too old to specifically address video games, looking at play as an overarching concept.  Callois defines play as voluntary, uncertain, unproductive, and make-believe (a definition which has been called into question by research facilities such as MIT, who have used online gaming as a way of generating collaborative scientific breakthroughs).  Callois breaks games down into four categories:
-          Agon (competition) e.g. sports
-          Alea (chance) e.g. slots; roulette
-          Mimicry (imitation) e.g. role-playing
-          Ilinx (vertigo) e.g. roller coasters
Callois contends that these four categories may be combined to describe complex forms of games.  He also divides the notion of play into two categories: paida, which is freeform and not bound by rigid rules/expectations or win/loss conditions; and ludus, in which rigid rule-sets bind player actions and determine win/loss scenarios.


The authors, in criticizing Callois’ theories, cite prominent video game scholar Jesper Juul and his argument that there is a lack of fluidity in Callois’ categories.  Further, Juul rails against the perceived binary of the paida/ludus categories.  The authors further argue that, in discussing video games, the players cannot negotiate the rules with the computer, making the perceived divide between ludus and paida evident, despite bleed-over concepts which may be inherent in the game’s design.  This last argument is a fallacy, as the authors do not take into account that the options offered in game customization menus are the very rule negotiations which they claim are not possible with a computer arbitrator.  Furthermore, the use of cheats and hacks on the part of the player are a negotiation of the rules outside of what the formalized system of the menus would otherwise permit.


The discussion then looks to various other theorists for suitable answers to the chapter’s title, and contrasting the various concepts with one another:
-          Marshall McLuhan - games are tied to the cultures in which they exist and relieve tension.  The authors dismiss McLuhan’s theory, as he tends to explain away problems with his claim in an off-hand, dismissive, fashion, and because he does not provide any empirical data or proof of his tension relief/catharsis claim.  These counters are common arguments against McLuhan’s theories, in general, and are understandably levied here.
-          Gregory Bateson - play is meta-communication.  Eg, a fighting game is not actually fighting, but instead playing at fighting, which holds different meanings in different contexts.  The authors do not take this idea far enough: since different games apply different context-sensitive actions to the generic inputs of the controller buttons, the notion of different contexts holding different meanings is much deeper than the authors choose to explore.
-          Brian Sutton-Smith - “an exercise of voluntary control systems in which there is an opposition between forces, confined by a procedure and rules in order to produce a disequilibrial outcome”.  He also states that a definition of a game will vary, based on outcome. 
-          George Herbert Mead - play allows for adoption of new roles and games create an idea of social awareness of others through rules and other players, the former emphasizing the presence of the latter.  This idea is problematic when applied to video games, as the majority of video games contain some form of single-player component, removing the presence of others.
-          Henry Jenkins - video games are a new art form.  He points out that video games face the same criticisms as other media, such as film or comic books, in their infancies.  Games are about player control and the experience the player has when he/she perceives that his/her actions have had a profound impact on the game and its world, creating a previously unknown sense of immersion between an art work and the person experiencing it.
After presenting these various theories, the authors discuss how these and other attempts to define games are problematic, because the categories offered are paradoxically too narrow and yet too broad.  For example, auctions may fit the concept of ‘game’ (as there are victory conditions, opposition, rigid rules, and the like) but MMORPGs, such as World of Warcraft or Ultima Online, do not meet the criteria set forth (no ending or win/loss scenario, no clear goal which drives the players forward, and so on).


With this notion in mind, the discussion is then focused on finding a formal definition of games, as follows:
-          Chris Crawford argues for four fundamental features of video games, offered when he was a video game developer in 1982:
o   Representation: games represent a subset of reality, even if it is a highly fantasized version of that subset.
o   Interaction: the player must be able to influence the game world and receive feedback on actions performed.
o   Conflict: The game has a goal, which is blocked by obstacles.
o   Safety: game conflicts do not cause the same consequences as similar conflicts in real-world situations.
-          Katie Salen and Eric Zimmerman - games are systems which present artificial conflict, defined by rules, which result in a quantifiable outcome.
-          Jesper Juul - games are rule-based formal systems with variable, differently valued outcomes; the player feels attached to the outcome by attempts to influence it, and consequences are optional and negotiable.
The authors offer their counter-points to these theories.  They argue that Salen and Zimmerman’s definition is far too broad, pointing out that, by their definition, a university exam qualifies as a game.  They also contend that Juul’s definition places too much agency on the player’s relationship to the game, arguing that there are players who will not become highly invested or motivated by the game in which they are involved.  This contention seems like a bit of a straw-man argument, as without even minimal participation, there can be no game (see Galloway’s contention that, until it is played, a video game is merely inert code).


These attempts to define games and play are not just an intellectual exercise, according to the authors.  They argue that attempts at definition help to determine the educational merits of video games, and that these diverse offerings of a definition allow for a perspective on the relation to, and relationship with, other media.  Having made these assertions, the authors move on to what they term ‘pragmatic definitions’, definitions by game designers and professionals rather than academics.


The first of these definitions on offer is Sid Meier’s statement that ‘a game is a series of interesting choices’ (pg 37).  The authors take issue with Meier’s definition, however.  They claim that the definition applies best to the types of strategy games that Meier is most fond of making, and that there are not ‘interesting choices’ to be had in games such as Blade Runner and Super Mario Bros., as they rely more on finding the correct solution to a puzzle and testing reflex and reaction, respectively.  This counter-argument, however, makes the assumption that the interesting choices in question are solely the province of the player.  It is also entirely possible that these choices may be made by the designers or the computer system, itself.  Using their own example, Blade Runner features a randomly generated story based on a database of set-pieces, which the game system then chooses and strings together.


The next pragmatic definition is from Robin Hunicke, Marc LeBlanc, and Robert Zubeck.  Their definition is described as the “Mechanics-Dynamics-Aesthetics” model, and is as follows:
-          Mechanics: the algorithmic rules of the game system.
-          Dynamics: the way the game actually plays, based on the mechanics.  This aspect includes all possible and unpredictable scenarios.
-          Aesthetics: favourable emotional responses invoked in the player as game interaction occurs.
Further, Hunicke, LeBlanc, and Zubeck suggest that there are eight elements which are attractive aspects of games.  These elements are:
-          Sensation (game as sense-pleasure)
-          Fantasy (game as make-believe)
-          Narrative (game as drama)
-          Challenge (game as obstacle course)
-          Fellowship (game as social framework)
-          Discovery (game as uncharted territory)
-          Expression (game as self-discovery)
-          Submission (game as pastime)
The authors point out that Hunicke, LeBlanc, and Zubeck’s concepts have subjective interpretations, and vary based on the game in question and the person experiencing it.  They also point out that several categories may apply at the same time.


The authors feel that, while useful, Hunicke, LeBlanc, and Zubeck’s model has limitations.  For one, it does not discuss how gameplay works: concepts like play context, framing culture, and links to other media are completely ignored.  Further, it is also argued that the model ignores the expressive side of games.  This statement seems odd, given the proffered categories related to expression in the definition.  Further, the authors simply make this statement without any elaboration or presentation of proof, the very thing for which they criticized McLuhan.


The chapter then takes an odd turn, veering away from the definition of games to a discussion of genre distinctions.  They offer the following systems of genre categorization:
-          Mark J.P. Wolf – interactivity (goals set for the player) is the best way of assigning genre, rather than what is shown on screen.  He offers 43 different genres, which the authors feel have no discernable system of categorization.  It is also clear that his system privileges only one aspect of the game experience (interactivity) over all others.
-          Espen Aarseth – categorization based on a series of variables rather than single aspects, such as theme/themic action.  The authors contend, and I agree, that this system has limited practical use.  The system seems to offer each individual game its own distinct genre, which does nothing to solve the problem.
-          Egenfeldt Nielsen, Heide Smith, Pajares Tosca – success-criteria based genre classification.  While they do recognize the problem inherent in the system in terms of classifying single-player and multiplayer RPGs, they do not recognize how their system is similar to Wolf’s, and just as easily abused.
The authors conclude by offering their four genre categories: action games (motor skill/hand-eye co-ordination); adventure games (deep thinking and deduction); strategy games (role of General coordinating autonomous fighters); and process-oriented games (offers system to play with, rather than specific goals to achieve).