How games enrich our lives

Aug 11 JDN 2460534

I’m writing this post just after getting back from Gen Con, one of the world’s largest gaming conventions. After several days of basically constant activity from the time we woke up to the time we went to bed, I’m looking forward to some downtime to recuperate.

This year, we were there not just to have fun, but also to pitch our own game, a card-based storytelling game called Pax ad Astra. We already have one offer from a small publisher, but we’re currently waiting to hear back from several others to see if we can do better.

Games might seem like a frivolous thing, a waste of valuable time; but in fact they can enrich our lives in many ways. They deserve to be respected as an art form unto themselves.

Gen Con is primarily a tabletop game convention, but some of the best examples of what I want to say come from video games, so I’ll be using examples of both.

Games can be beautiful. Climb up a mountain in Breath of the Wild and just look out over the expanse. It’s not quite the same as overlooking a real mountain vista, but it’s shockingly close.

Games can be moving. The Life is Strange series has so many powerful emotional moments it’s honestly a little overwhelming.

Games can be political. The game Monopoly was originally intended as an argument against monopoly capitalism (which is deeply ironic in hindsight). Cyberpunk fiction has always been trying to warn us about the future we’re building, and that message comes across even clearer when immersed in game, either the tabletop version Cyberpunk RED or the video game version Cyberpunk 2077. Even a game like Call of Duty: Black Ops, which many might initially dismiss as another mindless shooter, can actually have some profound statements to make about war, covert operations, and the moral compromises that they always entail.

Games can challenge us to think. Even some of the most ancient games, like Senet and Go, required deep strategic thinking in order to win. Modern games continue this tradition in an endless variety of ways, from Catan to StarCraft.

Games can teach us. I don’t just mean games that are designed to be educational, though certainly plenty of those exist. Minecraft involves active participation in building and changing the world around you, every bit as good a learning toy as Lego, but with almost endless blocks to work with.

Games let us explore our own identity. One of the great things about role-playing games such as Dungeons & Dragons (or its digital counterpart, Baldur’s Gate 3) is that they allow us to inhabit someone different from ourselves, and explore what it’s like to be someone else. We can learn a lot about ourselves and others through such experiences. I know an awful lot of transgender people who played RPGs as different genders before they transitioned.

Games are immersive. One certainly can get immersed into a book or a film, but the interactivity of a game makes that immersion much more powerful. The difference between hearing about someone doing something, watching them do something, and doing it yourself can be quite profound. Video games are especially immersive; they can really make it feel like you are right there, actually participating in the action. Part of what makes Call of Duty: Black Ops so effective in its political messaging is the fact that you aren’t just seeing all these morally-ambiguous actions; you’re actively participating in them, and being forced to make your own difficult choices.

But in the end, games are fun. Maybe sometimes they are a frivolous time-wasting activity—and maybe, as a society, we need to have more respect for frivolous time-wasting activities. Human beings need rest and recreation to function. We aren’t machines. We can’t constantly be productive all the time.

Games as economic simulations—and education tools

Mar 5, JDN 2457818 [Sun]

Moore’s Law is a truly astonishing phenomenon. Now as we are well into the 21st century (I’ve lived more of my life in the 21st century than the 20th now!) it may finally be slowing down a little bit, but it has had quite a run, and even this could be a temporary slowdown due to economic conditions or the lull before a new paradigm (quantum computing?) matures. Since at least 1975, the computing power of an individual processor has doubled approximately every year and a half; that means it has doubled over 25 times—or in other words that it has increased by a factor of over 30 million. I now have in my pocket a smartphone with several thousand times the processing speed of the guidance computer of the Saturn V that landed on the Moon.

This meteoric increase in computing power has had an enormous impact on the way science is done, including economics. Simple theoretical models that could be solved by hand are now being replaced by enormous simulation models that have to be processed by computers. It is now commonplace to devise models with systems of dozens of nonlinear equations that are literally impossible to solve analytically, and just solve them iteratively with computer software.

But one application of this technology that I believe is currently underutilized is video games.

As a culture, we still have the impression that video games are for children; even games like Dragon Age and Grand Theft Auto that are explicitly for adults (and really quite inappropriate for children!) are viewed as in some sense “childish”—that no serious adult would be involved with such frivolities. The same cultural critics who treat Shakespeare’s vagina jokes as the highest form of art are liable to dismiss the poignant critique of war in Call of Duty: Black Ops or the reflections on cultural diversity in Skyrim as mere puerility.

But video games are an art form with a fundamentally greater potential than any other. Now that graphics are almost photorealistic, there is really nothing you can do in a play or a film that you can’t do in a video game—and there is so, so much more that you can only do in a game.
In what other medium can we witness the spontaneous emergence and costly aftermath of a war? Yet EVE Online has this sort of event every year or so—just today there was a surprise attack involving hundreds of players that destroyed thousands of hours’—and dollars’—worth of starships, something that has more or less become an annual tradition. A few years ago there was a massive three-faction war that destroyed over $300,000 in ships and has now been commemorated as “the Bloodbath of B-R5RB”.
Indeed, the immersion and interactivity of games present an opportunity to do nothing less than experimental macroeconomics. For generations it has been impossible, or at least absurdly unethical, to ever experimentally manipulate an entire macroeconomy. But in a video game like EVE Online or Second Life, we can now do so easily, cheaply, and with little or no long-term harm to the participants—and we can literally control everything in the experiment. Forget the natural resource constraints and currency exchange rates—we can change the laws of physics if we want. (Indeed, EVE‘s whole trade network is built around FTL jump points, and in Second Life it’s a basic part of the interface that everyone can fly like Superman.)

This provides untold potential for economic research. With sufficient funding, we could build a game that would allow us to directly test hypotheses about the most fundamental questions of economics: How do governments emerge and maintain security? How is the rule of law sustained, and when can it be broken? What controls the value of money and the rate of inflation? What is the fundamental cause of unemployment, and how can it be corrected? What influences the rate of technological development? How can we maximize the rate of economic growth? What effect does redistribution of wealth have on employment and output? I envision a future where we can directly simulate these questions with thousands of eager participants, varying the subtlest of parameters and carrying out events over any timescale we like from seconds to centuries.

Nor is the potential of games in economics limited to research; it also has enormous untapped potential in education. I’ve already seen in my classes how tabletop-style games with poker chips can teach a concept better in a few minutes than hours of writing algebra derivations on the board; but custom-built video games could be made that would teach economics far better still, and to a much wider audience. In a well-designed game, people could really feel the effects of free trade or protectionism, not just on themselves as individuals but on entire nations that they control—watch their GDP numbers go down as they scramble to produce in autarky what they could have bought for half the price if not for the tariffs. They could see, in real time, how in the absence of environmental regulations and Pigovian taxes the actions of millions of individuals could despoil our planet for everyone.

Of course, games are fundamentally works of fiction, subject to the Fictional Evidence Fallacy and only as reliable as their authors make them. But so it is with all forms of art. I have no illusions about the fact that we will never get the majority of the population to regularly read peer-reviewed empirical papers. But perhaps if we are clever enough in the games we offer them to play, we can still convey some of the knowledge that those papers contain. We could also update and expand the games as new information comes in. Instead of complaining that our students are spending time playing games on their phones and tablets, we could actually make education into games that are as interesting and entertaining as the ones they would have been playing. We could work with the technology instead of against it. And in a world where more people have access to a smartphone than to a toilet, we could finally bring high-quality education to the underdeveloped world quickly and cheaply.

Rapid growth in computing power has given us a gift of great potential. But soon our capacity will widen even further. Even if Moore’s Law slows down, computing power will continue to increase for awhile yet. Soon enough, virtual reality will finally take off and we’ll have even greater depth of immersion available. The future is bright—if we can avoid this corporatist cyberpunk dystopia we seem to be hurtling toward, of course.