April 3, 2012

Game immaturity and the journalism that can fix it

I was all ready to post a new Developer Rant about skill-based character creation systems. I was ready, but then John Walker changed my mind. (The writer, not the whiskey—that would be a whole ‘nother article.)

Mr. Walker, for those of you who don’t know of him, is one of the founding fathers of the preeminent PC gaming blog Rock Paper Shotgun. Presently, he’s a bit like the site’s combination beat reporter/resident bomb-thrower. Sometimes he writes really excellent pieces digging into consumer rights issues and junk science concerning video game violence. Other times, he posts rants on various subjects. Sometimes I agree with the rants; sometimes I don’t. Today’s rant is fundamentally agreeable to me, but I feel like it misses an important point. Here’s the gist of what Mr. Walker had to say:

“Where is our commentary? Where is our criticism? Where is our subversion? Where is the game that questions governments, challenges society, hell, asks a bloody question? Let alone issues. Good heavens, imagine a game that dealt with issues!”

Now, I totally agree with John’s central premise here. The industry’s single-minded obsession with the epic has grown tiresome, in no small part because it overshadows the importance of more intimate approaches in games. Difficult and contentious issues that actually matter to peoples’ lives are abandoned in favor of empty conflict. Nearly across the board, game stories have largely become exercises in recycling the same weary jumble of tired hero’s journey tropes, employed without focus or ambition.

But there’s something wholly absent from the rant, something that can’t be ignored when we talk about video games maturing: the discourse that surrounds these games on game review sites. The rant lacks any sense of how games journalism feeds into gaming’s delayed adolescence. “I want games to be a medium that merits the mainstream coverage we constantly claim they deserve,” Mr. Walker says. I’d flip this around: coverage is such that most of the sites that do cover games get exactly the games that they deserve.

I’ve been arguing for years now that games need to start offering better writing and more mature themes. For my part, I’ve tried to help combat the drought of meaningful games, curating notable indie RPG releases on IndieRPGs.com and recently releasing an RPG of my own complete with biting social commentary and critique. It’s precisely the sort of game that, if you believe the block quote above, we aren’t seeing any of these days.

To their credit, RPS featured this game twice: however, they have yet to actually explore the game on a semiotic level. For that matter, neither has anyone else. Every review of Telepath RPG: Servants of God mentions the graphics. Every review mentions the combat mechanics, the setting. Sometimes the music gets a nod. The game’s pacing oftentimes comes up. A couple of reviews say good things about the writing; one preview states in passing that the game is structured around a tight-knit, focused metaphor. That’s all good stuff, all relevant issues to raise in a review. But I have yet to see anyone actually analyze the game’s central metaphor, or make an argument about what the game means.

This is a little frustrating to me, since the game is designed with precisely that sort of analysis in mind. Midway through, you can actually get into a discussion with one of the game’s characters about how to analyze metaphors in poetry. In addition to fleshing out the characters involved, it’s my way of subtly encouraging the player to think about what they’re seeing and experiencing as they play.

This stuff matters. Metaphors, analogies, signs and symbols: all of these stand implicitly for something else, permitting an artistic work to contain layers of meaning that reveal themselves through careful study. A games journalism that cares about sophistication and maturity in games would make some effort to uncover these things. It would examine a game’s themes, analyzing the symbolic significance of dialog, in-game events, visual symbolism, and other viscera. Buttressed with careful, detailed analysis, it would offer a coherent theory of what the game, as a whole, is ultimately trying to say on a deeper-than-superficial level (or, alternatively, explore how the game fails to support its themes).

Unfortunately, mainstream games journalism almost never strays into this territory. Rock Paper Shotgun is an unusually good games publication, but I can think of only one game that they have ever given this sort of thorough symbolic treatment: Pathologic, in a series written by Quintin Smith. (He no longer writes for the site.) Then, I suppose there was that time that someone on Destructoid decided to try a serious thematic analysis of Gears of War 2. And we’re done. That’s it as far as mainstream game sites trying to really, thoroughly evaluate games on a symbolic level. (If you dig around, you can find some stuff on a couple of smaller sites like Brainy Gamer and Necessary Games.)

“So what?” you might say. “Maybe there would be more symbolic games criticism if more games actually made a play for symbolic significance.” While this is likely true, it isn’t necessary. After all, a game doesn’t have to make symbolic sense to be critiqued on a semiotic level. Games with terrible graphics are critiqued on an aesthetic level. Games with poor sound are critiqued on their audio. Imbalanced games are criticized on design grounds. There are plenty of areas where games fail that games journalists have no problem commenting on. Why shouldn’t coherency of theme and symbolism be one of them?

The way the industry is structured, critical focus has to come first if mainstream games are going to start getting this right with any regularity. Put simply, games are largely juvenile because games discourse is largely juvenile. If it wasn’t obvious to you already, consider that games journalists are not the passive, helpless victims of an immature games industry. To the contrary: journalists are active and influential participants in shaping that very industry. Collectively, they all but decide which games do well and which head straight for the bargain buckets—and just as importantly, on what grounds.

Until journalists start paying attention to symbolism in their game reviews, developers have little reason to do so themselves. Consider that developers have limited resources. If you are a business owner with $6,000 left in your budget and you have a choice of either (a) hiring a good writer or (b) contracting with a good visual artist, the rational choice is to hire the person whose contributions will make a bigger difference to the game’s critical reception (and thus, sales). Reviewers seldom discuss a game’s writing, and virtually never discuss a game’s themes–but they always discuss visual appearance. In fact, many games get great coverage on the basis of visuals alone. Thus, a developer with limited resources has every incentive to invest those resources in visuals rather than in making the game thematically sophisticated and well-written.

Of course, the flip-side of this is that games journalists have a great deal of power to improve this situation. The moment game reviewers start consistently and thoroughly taking developers to task within game reviews for poor characterization, nonsensical themes and inconsistent symbolism—the instant that they start seriously looking at game narrative and symbolism in depth—the very second that these things start mattering to a game’s score as much as superficial aspects like graphics—that is when developers will take notice of them. Because they’ll have no choice.

This isn’t a job that games journalists can leave to someone else. When John Walker says that he wants games that will incite arguments among academics, I want to grab him by the shoulders and yell: “Forget them. You start making arguments!” You see, symbolism and thematic analysis aren’t just for tenants of the ivory tower. They’re for everyone with a brain and the will to think. And that includes the very games journalists who are tired of having to review juvenile tripe. Every writer who wants games to challenge him as a thinking adult needs to start engaging with games on that level, even if they believe the games aren’t ready for it. It has to start somewhere.

As for me, I await the day when characterization, theme and symbolism can finally make a difference to a game’s Metacritic score. For now, however, I expect most developers will just keep on hiring artists.

  • Guest

    What is the “game’s central metaphor”?  Your game’s theme doesn’t go in-depth enough to discuss.  My friends and I played bioshock, and then we had a serious discussion about a laissez-faire society without any regulation.  Unlike Bioshock, TSoG showed themes which weren’t new or unique.  American culture already drilled into your game’s themes such as democracy is good and fragile, seperation of church and state is necessary, and discrimination is bad (I noticed the gay marriage reference).  Maybe there is a bigger underlying theme that I and others are not getting.  Or maybe the obvious themes weren’t interesting enough to mention in a game review.  Sorry if this sounds harsh, but maybe the lack of interest in the theme is more of failure of the game developer than of the consumer.

  • CraigStern

    Your comment suggests to me that you did not play the game to completion; there’s more there than that.

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  • Paraphernalia

    “democracy is good and fragile, seperation of church and state is
    necessary, and discrimination is bad (I noticed the gay marriage

    Oh Zeus, not THAT USian PC drivel again…

  • Even if the game lacked interesting themes, that wouldn’t change the fact that no one pointed out that lack in a review, which is what the article is about.

    I agree wholeheartedly with the article itself, it’s not a one-way street. Same as everything else, you can’t just sit around and expect good things to magically happen.

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  • Kieranjmartin

    http://www.errantsignal.com/blog/ Errant Signal has some interesting games critisism along the lines you’re thinking in.

  • This is an interesting piece… but I do feel the poor artists get a hard time!
    Visual ART (the clue’s in the name) can in itself aspire to meaning, and symbolism, emotional connection etc. Depending on who it is and what you ask them to do, hiring an artist for a game can deepen its cultural aspirations, not diminish them. I’m not talking about pixel shaders or texture RAM here – those are just tools. I’m talking about things like the design and appearance of the nurse monsters in Silent Hill 2 – now that’s a visual example with a whole barrel of symbolism. The early movie masterpieces were visual masterpieces – Battleship Potemkin, Metropolis, Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, A Trip To The Moon etc. We’ve definitely got our visual masterpieces… they’re called Bioshock, Limbo, Psychonauts etc. And those are all games rich in symbolism, either surface-level or hidden!

  • CraigStern

    You’re right. Hence, why I think visual symbolism should be included in a symbolic approach to games journalism:

    “A games journalism that cares about sophistication and maturity in games
    would make some effort to uncover these things. It would examine a
    game’s themes, analyzing the symbolic significance of dialog, in-game
    events, visual symbolism, and other viscera.”

  • YourMessageHere

    Games journalists are not, by and large, the ones who need to change what they do, because they are writing for a market who has expectations of their output.  People expect reviews and articles about games to talk about graphics and sound and gameplay and so on, and not really about semiotics or narrative themes or symbolism.  Most other media’s reviewer populations contain a broad spectrum, ranging from really shallow, digestible opinion on one hand to amazingly detailed critique that really belongs more in academia than review territory.

    In my view, the people you need to say “You start making arguments!” to are bloggers.  The fact that RPS is primarily a blog, not a commercial review site, is why they do this sometimes – more than you give them credit for – but the fact the writers are games journalists explains why they’re not only doing this sort of stuff.  RPS’ focus is PC games generally, not critical analysis of games.  

    Basically, Walker is right, academia is the place for the sort of analysis he calls for (as I do) – it exists purely for this sort of stuff.  You can call academia an ivory tower if you want, but the problem is that, after the ivory tower dwellers do what they are best at, the people on the ground don’t take notice of what the ivory tower says and just keep making the same mistakes.  Game creators can put symbolism in their games and make them attractive to mainstream audiences (cf Bioshock); a direct parallel can be drawn to film critic Mark Kermode and his persistent demand for ‘intelligent blockbusters’.

    However, the existence of intelligent, symbolic games isn’t enough, as arguably they are already out there in small numbers.  What’s not out there, at least not enough, is the discussion of them, and it’s only when the academic analysis and deconstruction reaches a sufficiently critical mass that it starts to affect journalism, as has always been the case with other media and their popular and academic analysis.

  • Waltorious

    I just wanted to let you know that I was impressed enough by the quality of your writing in this post that I bought your game.

  • I stumbled across this looking for material about immaturity amongst gamers. It wasn’t relevant, but I was hooked anyway, as your feelings mirror my own. Here’s what I had to say on the subject:

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  • Paul Schumann


  • Chris Wagar

    “In addition to fleshing out the characters involved, it’s my way of
    subtly encouraging the player to think about what they’re seeing and
    experiencing as they play.”

    I feel like dialogue exchanges in games that claim to do this do the opposite. They’re not evaluating the player for a skill, evaluation of skills in dialogue is lacking, there isn’t a lot you can fairly test someone on through purely the spoken word, try looking up spoken word games, there aren’t many.

    This doesn’t encourage players to think about what they see and experience. It encourages them to think about it less, because it’s divorced from most of the game experience. It doesn’t relate to the skills they build in the course of play or the systems they interact with. It’s not challenging players to think nearly so much as it’s simply presenting textual information, much as other mediums do. This isn’t asking for an evolution of games, it’s a retread. It’s not asking for games to evolve in any way whatsoever. This is something you could do with a tetris or farmville knockoff. You can include textual information with a message in any type of medium, but ultimately whether the work is powerful or not doesn’t really depend on the message at all.

    I tend to think of this as a different type of immaturity honestly. It’s not asking games to grow up, it’s not caring if games grow up in any way other than the most superficial. This feels to me like saying that games will not be mature until we have raytrace lighting for the relevance it has.

    Games won’t be mature when we include “mature” themes like social issues, philosophical interpretations, or layered metaphors. It’s like claiming the evolution of music was tied to the evolution of lyric-writing. Games are an immature art form that has been stunted only by our limited attempts to understand them and continued failure to recognize successes of design and replicate or iterate on them, as I noticed you’ve been very irritated by in your rants about the lack of determinism in RPG games.

    Citizen Kane wasn’t regarded as a masterpiece for its message, it was regarded as one for how it used the medium. Similar for other films like The Godfather, 12 Angry Men, Seven Samurai, and most other classics you can name.

  • CraigStern

    Navigating dialogue trees and figuring out how best to interact with the game’s stable of characters is, in fact, a central part of that game’s experience–and being able to appeal to the personalities of the individual characters through intuition and deduction, using the available dialogue choices, is a player skill. I would be very, very interested to see something analogous in a Tetris or Farmville clone.

    I understand the point you’re trying to make here–that games, as a medium, should focus on developing the things that make them unique, those being their interactive systems. However, to then say that interactive systems should be the only (or even the primary) place from which to derive meaning from games is, respectfully, pretty myopic. I’ve addressed a similar argument here, if you’re curious: http://sinisterdesign.net/against-narrow-game-development/

  • Chris Wagar

    I don’t believe that selecting dialogue boxes on a screen is a significant representation of player skill. I don’t believe that choosing dialogue options represents a fair test of a player’s knowledge or deduction skills, unless set up very carefully, a la Phoenix Wright, where you are clearly set up to find a contradiction. And even in Phoenix Wright, some situations are set up in completely inane ways that people cannot reasonably guess, or which defy existing contradictions the player cannot act on until the right time. I know this is an assumption, but I do not have a reason to believe the dialogue options you are writing are a test of these skills either.

    In the majority, or even the best of these cases, the criteria for what constitutes a correct answer is practically guesswork, or simply matching A to A and B to B, and I don’t expect that to improve until conversational AI improves. Point and click adventures are much maligned for this exact reason, in attempting to create challenges for the player in shallow systems where the only mechanics are selecting the correct option from a set, difficulty comes through obscurity, and obscurity makes the system obtuse. Not leaving enough breadcrumbs makes it a game of savescumming and trying every possible combination. Leaving too many breadcrumbs makes the game simple and unchallenging. Leaving abstract bread crumbs leads to players misunderstanding the meaning of the bread crumbs.

    The game of 20 questions is a spoken word game that is fun for the questioners, not for the questionee. It tests intuition and deduction much as you might want to encourage in your own game, because within 20 questions it’s possible for people to narrow a category rather well. Unfortunately with computers, we can’t question the computer ourselves, the computer can’t parse it, the computer wouldn’t have enough data logged for all the questions we could possibly ask to actually answer all your questions, unless you were limited to an existing set of questions.

    Beyond this, dialogue is shallow simply because the range of possibilities is limited by the amount of content created (can only write results for say, 450 situations which is already bigger than an average visual novel, where varying jump height versus movement speed, versus position can create hundreds or thousands of different possible states), and the choices tend to be simple trees, without much context passed on from one situation to the next. Dialogue mechanics are not typically set up to alter variables that are remembered and later act on other things, unlike say in conversation where how you approach it, such as by avoiding or downplaying a sensitive issue can affect the way the conversation goes, as opposed to directly questioning it. In actual conversations we have a wide variety of ways we can express ourselves, and rather than simply branching choices with our words, the individual word choices can impact things like the mood of the subject, or create word associations that influence how the subject forms their later replies. There are many subtleties and these subtleties are not only remembered, but impact the subject in a non-arbitrary way, based on the operation of their own mind, as opposed to the flow-chart of a script. Wider mechanical systems in things like fighting games or shooters enable players to accurately create simulations in their mind of how the system operates to predict future outcomes accurately, and understand how the variables differed when an unexpected result happens. There is no internal system for a dialogue wheel that dictates the state of the NPC’s mind or which can be modeled by player intelligence, making the process of answering arbitrary and abstract. Making the correct decisions in dialogue trees is a matter of the player trusting the designer to be consistent rather than the player being familiar with the operating mechanics from experience and being able to model future outcomes with consistency.

    If you want to design a game based on the interactions and skills inherent in dialogue, design a game that involves actual people actually talking to each other that pushes them to make those interactions.

    Deriving meaning from the game is beside the point. Not all great stories have a meaning. Not all great works of painting or songs. Not all great games. Art isn’t about meaning, meaning is just a means by which art expresses itself.

    I think games should develop their interactive aspects because we’ve barely dipped our toes there. We’ve had active investigations of works of literature, painting, song, and film stretching back centuries or millenia. People have really made an attempt to figure out what makes those mediums tick, and how to develop technical proficiency at all of them. I want to see better games, successive improvement, knowledge on where to go next, consistent establishment of deep systems that are unique from one another. The depth of the system, the ability to endlessly provoke goal-oriented thought, is what I judge as a metric of a game’s quality. This is selfish of me, but I want to see the development of that so I can enjoy better games. Perhaps a bit less selfish is I don’t want to see games infantilized through a critical method that purportedly wants them to grow up through their narrative trappings rather than their interactions. It’s like saying you want to see music evolve into new “genres” by sticking to the existing ones, but writing lyrics describing different things.

    Simply put, calling games immature for having simple or meaningless stories/themes is like calling any of beethoven’s symphonies immature (or any lyric-less music or music without a distinct narrative). It shows a lack of understanding or investment in the medium, like they had never gotten involved with a deep game before, so they don’t understand the value in that. To be honest, I don’t think many people have had that type of experience before in the press. I don’t think the people who have had that type of experience are writers or know how to express it in words commonly. We have smatterings of it, like your posts on tactical RPGs, but rarely the full thing. I believe there is something really intellectually compelling there, much like say, Cowboy Bebop, The Godfather, pulp fiction, or whatever your favorite Disney/Pixar movie is. I think this type of thing gets overlooked conventionally because it doesn’t have the trappings of being “mature”. That’s why I’m not enthused with the idea of a “mature” games press that doesn’t enjoy the game, Go, or isn’t willing to look past the actual immaturity in narrative of a game like Street Fighter or Guilty Gear to understand what makes it so compelling on a systems level.

  • CraigStern

    “I don’t want to see games infantilized
    through a critical method that purportedly wants them to grow up through
    their narrative trappings rather than their interactions”

    A strawman argument–and equally, a false choice. Games can stand to offer greater sophistication in both areas.

    And no, calling games immature for offering simplistic stories or themes is *not* like calling a Beethoven symphony immature for having no lyrics–a more appropriate analogy would be if Beethoven had written a symphony with a choral section singing the lyrics to Nicki Minaj’s “Anaconda” all the way through. Beethoven symphonies without lyrics are more analogous to games without stories at all, like Tetris. It’s fine for a game to not have a story; but if you’re going to put one in there, and you make it a shitty one, it’s going to drag down the quality of the work.