Looking back to when I was only 10-years old, there are only a couple of things that I can tell you with absolute certainty: 1.) I loved eating McDonald's, 2.) I enjoyed strawberry soda an unhealthy amount, and 3.) every time I played a video game that I really liked and started getting the sensation that I needed to go to the bathroom, I waited until the last minute that my bladder was about to blast to put pause and run to the bathroom.
Based on this, I make a definite conclusion about the common factor between these three things –namely, that children themselves are prone to consuming dangerous amounts of things that they do not need. More specifically, that kids are exposed to things that are addictive from an early age. So what is the solution to ensure that we do not become addicted to anything? A life of austerity and asceticism? –One in which we simply abstain from things that are pleasurable in order to ensure generating the least amount of addictive potential?
The answer is no. Life itself carries with it an assortment of temptations that comes in all sorts of flavors; the idea is that if you don't derive pleasure from activity A, you will derive it from activity B – that is, there will always be something from which we derive pleasure. As gaming researchers Patrick Markey and Christopher Ferguson point out in one of their recent book, video gaming raises dopamine levels in the
brain to about the same degree that eating a slice of pepperoni pizza or
dish of ice cream does (without the calories).
That is not to say, however, that consuming excessive amounts of pepperoni pizza or ice cream won't land you in the hospital. What it all essentially boils down to, then, is moderation: children must be taught from an early age that video games have the potential to be addictive, and can thereby be a destructive force in their lives.
But what perhaps distinguishes the addiction of gaming from the addiction to other more conventional forms of deriving pleasure is the fact that gaming forces you to detach yourself from your current surroundings and become immersed in and invested into a virtual world. This rings especially true for games whose purpose it is to explore vast open worlds filled with dungeons, mazes and puzzles –such types of games oftentimes lead the player to spend substantial amounts of time interacting with characters, objects and enemies found throughout the map; aimlessness, in a sense, is a characteristic pertinent to these type of video games.
It is when this aimless interaction with a virtual world supersedes interaction with the physical world (i.e. when the amount of time one spends gaming begins interfering with one's personal relationships, one's general appearance, one's sense of hygiene, one's finances) that one must take a step back and recognize the destructive impact that this activity is having on them. This virtual addiction not only produces an unhealthy disengagement with reality to the point that one is no longer able to function within it, but it can even cause one to have manic and suicidal thoughts: "Brett's father had retrofit a metal lock on his Celeron computer to prevent his son from gaming. [...] Half an hour after Brett was mulling suicide, however, a friend called him on the phone and invited him to come over and game."
The case of Brett, as reported by Vice (https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/vdpwga/video-game-addiction-is-destroying-american-lives-456) is one that is very representative of the criticism I broach: the obsessive usage of video games as a means to escape reality can result in the loss of meaning outside of the virtual world in which one escapes to. For me, then, games that incite gun violence, for instance, are not dangerous by virtue of their content, but rather have the potential to be dangerous if those who play it feel a vacuum of meaning in their existence outside of it. –These are the people that, at the end of the day, are more likely to question the value of life itself, and therefore, more likely to be a threat to the dignity of human life.
Therefore, in an age in which virtual reality deprives us from the more fundamental drive to interact with each other, people need to think twice before retreating into a virtual world that could potentially rob their external reality of meaning.
A Blog on the Philosophy of Computing
Philosophical and sociological analyses of computing and video games in the modern age.
Tuesday, 1 May 2018
Monday, 23 April 2018
Conviction in Dexterity – On E-Sports
What is a sport? Let us first take a look at its etymological definition: per Google, a sport is an activity involving physical exertion and skill in which an individual competes against another or others for entertainment. That means that it is primarily the exertion of physical skill what can give an activity the status of a sport.
I contend that, regardless of how sedentary some of the actions in gaming may be, any sort of activity that requires talent is worthy of praise by virtue of the amount of practice required to acquire some degree of expertise in that activity. Therefore, it certainly holds merit in this sense, and should not be mitigated, nor overlooked, simply because it is, on some level, a virtual activity.
It is, however, this very process of visualisation what causes there to be criticism: a simple combination of buttons will prompt the avatar on screen to do significantly more than what the player needs to do to get it to do that. In this sense, then, it stops being a matter of physical dexterity, and becomes one of hand-eye coordination; of careful, calculative planning; of analysing the enemy.
I don't dislike e-Sports, and I certainly don't mind people denominating them as sports. It should be noted, however, that they challenge convention by enhancing the definition of a sport by rejecting the notion that sports are exclusively activities of physical ability, and embracing the idea that they are simply grounds on which one may test the integrity and the speed of one's computational capacities.
In the context of video games requiring many moves per second, this computational capacity is exhibited in the speed with which experts play the game. Other games, like chess, have been recognised as official sports on account of the fact that one requires the mental capacity to think in terms of many moves into the future in order to make the right call. We thereby see another factor underpinning what constitutes a sport: the element of strategy.
I am, however, a spectator. This is primarily due to the fact that I have only played a couple of games competitively, and it has only been enjoyable insofar as this competition is among friends. Otherwise, a certain level of tension and enmity is introduced into the gaming experience, which can make it seem somewhat hostile or unpleasant. –I, particularly, don't possess the personality to be thrown into such a competitive atmosphere for nothing more than glory and distinction.
In a sense, it is allegorical. In life, there are people who choose to make it big (i.e. make a lot of money, obtain a lot of wealth, power, etc.) by virtue of the fact that others are competing, striving, in a way, for the same thing; some exert their will to power and maximise all conditions for their success by going out and competing to demonstrate mastery. However, others are comfortable, or rather, conform with watching, participating and enjoying, but are not caught in an endless inner strife to demonstrate dexterous superiority.
I contend that, regardless of how sedentary some of the actions in gaming may be, any sort of activity that requires talent is worthy of praise by virtue of the amount of practice required to acquire some degree of expertise in that activity. Therefore, it certainly holds merit in this sense, and should not be mitigated, nor overlooked, simply because it is, on some level, a virtual activity.
It is, however, this very process of visualisation what causes there to be criticism: a simple combination of buttons will prompt the avatar on screen to do significantly more than what the player needs to do to get it to do that. In this sense, then, it stops being a matter of physical dexterity, and becomes one of hand-eye coordination; of careful, calculative planning; of analysing the enemy.
I don't dislike e-Sports, and I certainly don't mind people denominating them as sports. It should be noted, however, that they challenge convention by enhancing the definition of a sport by rejecting the notion that sports are exclusively activities of physical ability, and embracing the idea that they are simply grounds on which one may test the integrity and the speed of one's computational capacities.
In the context of video games requiring many moves per second, this computational capacity is exhibited in the speed with which experts play the game. Other games, like chess, have been recognised as official sports on account of the fact that one requires the mental capacity to think in terms of many moves into the future in order to make the right call. We thereby see another factor underpinning what constitutes a sport: the element of strategy.
I am, however, a spectator. This is primarily due to the fact that I have only played a couple of games competitively, and it has only been enjoyable insofar as this competition is among friends. Otherwise, a certain level of tension and enmity is introduced into the gaming experience, which can make it seem somewhat hostile or unpleasant. –I, particularly, don't possess the personality to be thrown into such a competitive atmosphere for nothing more than glory and distinction.
In a sense, it is allegorical. In life, there are people who choose to make it big (i.e. make a lot of money, obtain a lot of wealth, power, etc.) by virtue of the fact that others are competing, striving, in a way, for the same thing; some exert their will to power and maximise all conditions for their success by going out and competing to demonstrate mastery. However, others are comfortable, or rather, conform with watching, participating and enjoying, but are not caught in an endless inner strife to demonstrate dexterous superiority.
Wednesday, 18 April 2018
A Visit to the Arcade – Physical Presence and Human Relations
What is it about being physically engaged with each other in competition that makes us so prone to enjoy forms of entertainment such as bowling, mini-golf, and other games that require little skill but place heavy emphasis on score keeping? And, moreover, are these type of activities entertaining by virtue of the activity itself, or, rather, by our active examination of our performance in relation to our opponent?
Thereby, a game requiring the physical presence of all parties makes games like the above-mentioned ones fun games to play with friends and acquaintances. In fact, the ability to associate with someone on a competitive, and therefore personal level, allows you to engage that person in an entirely different way; it introduces a sense of fun along with the competition, which rids it of its frustrating aspects, making the game a matter not only of skill, but also of group dynamics.
This is most evidently what I perceived in our trip to the arcade. For the first time in a while, the entire experience of gaming and competing seemed fun, innocent –healthy, to some extent. I really enjoyed being able to witness, perceive and respond to the reactions of those whom I played with/against, as opposed to letting everything boil down to got the W and who got the L.
Clearly, it is precisely this sociability which has made online gaming so popular, particularly within the context of AAA console titles (i.e. Fortnite) –the fact that players can now speak to each other in real-time as they interact with each other on screen is nothing short of a technological marvel which brings people together.
However, it is always important to step outside and spend quality time with friends engaging in some sort of activity in which you are all physically present. This is, after all, what leads people to believe in the value of friendship: the ability to share common interests as well grow together and in relation to each other.
Thereby, a game requiring the physical presence of all parties makes games like the above-mentioned ones fun games to play with friends and acquaintances. In fact, the ability to associate with someone on a competitive, and therefore personal level, allows you to engage that person in an entirely different way; it introduces a sense of fun along with the competition, which rids it of its frustrating aspects, making the game a matter not only of skill, but also of group dynamics.
This is most evidently what I perceived in our trip to the arcade. For the first time in a while, the entire experience of gaming and competing seemed fun, innocent –healthy, to some extent. I really enjoyed being able to witness, perceive and respond to the reactions of those whom I played with/against, as opposed to letting everything boil down to got the W and who got the L.
Clearly, it is precisely this sociability which has made online gaming so popular, particularly within the context of AAA console titles (i.e. Fortnite) –the fact that players can now speak to each other in real-time as they interact with each other on screen is nothing short of a technological marvel which brings people together.
However, it is always important to step outside and spend quality time with friends engaging in some sort of activity in which you are all physically present. This is, after all, what leads people to believe in the value of friendship: the ability to share common interests as well grow together and in relation to each other.
Tuesday, 10 April 2018
The Exploitation of Purposelessness in the Age of Technology
What is the fundamental interest in casual gaming? Moreover, what lies behind the investment of people's time into such an activity? Could we potentially derive —or perhaps extrapolate— an explanation concerning the rise of casual mobile gaming from the more fundamental drive to productively make use of one's time?
When looked at objectively, the fact that the merits and accomplishments achieved in mobile gaming are only relevant within its virtual universe make it an objective waste of time. By this, I simply mean that the progress accomplished in a particular mobile game exists only in the eye of the beholder: that is, there is no value in the progress accomplished unless it matters to the user. However, the real problem with this type of gaming is not necessarily the gratuitous and purposeless investment of one's time, but what progress in such a game entails, and the way it is taken advantage of by people with tangible resources.
That is not to say, however, that an obsession with being productive in an unproductive virtual environment cannot be exploited; on the other hand, the more time people choose to waste on these sort of applications, the more the creators financially benefit – and not just the creators! Fellow gamers, especially those with programming prowess (at least enough to set up a bot or two), can unfairly gain an advantage of others who devote significant portions of their lives to such types of games.
So what is the danger? It is precisely the absence of true, objective advancement —essentially, the fact that progress does not equate to effort. The fact that anyone with money can buy virtual currency in that video game and put others to shame simply amounts to a system in which virtual status supersedes actual merit. It is, in a sense, a true depiction of the capitalist system in which we –voluntarily or not– are forced to function: a system in which your financial and socioeconomic circumstances, and not your effort, are more likely to land you "ahead of the game."
In this view, the problem doesn't lie so much in the fact that people are needlessly wasting their time accomplishing something that will amount to nothing, but the fact that others who have money are excused from playing according to conventional rules, thereby rendering the quasi-productive use of one's time entirely useless –even in the context of the mobile video game.
It is precisely for this reason, then, that mobile (casual) gaming is now surpassing the traditional PC and console markets in terms of revenue: because it isn't an industry devoted to providing a genuinely immersive and personal game experience –one in which progress necessarily requires skill and competence– but one solely focused on the capitalisation of virtual resources by virtue of real money. I am thereby entirely opposed to the continued exploitation of users for their virtual (and by definition, imaginary) fulfilment, especially when they could be devoting the same amount of productive energy to doing something palpably useful –i.e. learning a language, learning new programming languages, etc.
When looked at objectively, the fact that the merits and accomplishments achieved in mobile gaming are only relevant within its virtual universe make it an objective waste of time. By this, I simply mean that the progress accomplished in a particular mobile game exists only in the eye of the beholder: that is, there is no value in the progress accomplished unless it matters to the user. However, the real problem with this type of gaming is not necessarily the gratuitous and purposeless investment of one's time, but what progress in such a game entails, and the way it is taken advantage of by people with tangible resources.
That is not to say, however, that an obsession with being productive in an unproductive virtual environment cannot be exploited; on the other hand, the more time people choose to waste on these sort of applications, the more the creators financially benefit – and not just the creators! Fellow gamers, especially those with programming prowess (at least enough to set up a bot or two), can unfairly gain an advantage of others who devote significant portions of their lives to such types of games.
So what is the danger? It is precisely the absence of true, objective advancement —essentially, the fact that progress does not equate to effort. The fact that anyone with money can buy virtual currency in that video game and put others to shame simply amounts to a system in which virtual status supersedes actual merit. It is, in a sense, a true depiction of the capitalist system in which we –voluntarily or not– are forced to function: a system in which your financial and socioeconomic circumstances, and not your effort, are more likely to land you "ahead of the game."
In this view, the problem doesn't lie so much in the fact that people are needlessly wasting their time accomplishing something that will amount to nothing, but the fact that others who have money are excused from playing according to conventional rules, thereby rendering the quasi-productive use of one's time entirely useless –even in the context of the mobile video game.
It is precisely for this reason, then, that mobile (casual) gaming is now surpassing the traditional PC and console markets in terms of revenue: because it isn't an industry devoted to providing a genuinely immersive and personal game experience –one in which progress necessarily requires skill and competence– but one solely focused on the capitalisation of virtual resources by virtue of real money. I am thereby entirely opposed to the continued exploitation of users for their virtual (and by definition, imaginary) fulfilment, especially when they could be devoting the same amount of productive energy to doing something palpably useful –i.e. learning a language, learning new programming languages, etc.
Wednesday, 28 March 2018
The Dichotomy Between Playability and Admirability
Computer graphics are the indisputable driving force underlying the development of video games in the 21st century. Given that we internalise experience based on stimuli we sense and interpret, video games have long sought to capitalise on this aspect of our nature.
When Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild was released, I could hardly believe how far the franchise had come. Purely in terms of graphics, the game had, according to John Linneman of Eurogamer, pushed the Wii U hardware "to the limit" –and it is sometimes evident on screen: as players engage enemies or trigger the game's physics engine, the game drops frames in order to keep the gaming experience as enthralling as possible.
Here, then, we see that a balance must be reached between gameplay and visual punctiliousness –a dichotomy between making the visual landscape of a video game as captivating as possible without sacrificing its gameplay.
Moreover, the evolution of computer graphics have allowed video game developers to envision and engender video games as a new type of art form –that is, it has allowed developers to place overwhelming emphasis on immersion as opposed to playability. A good example of this kind of video game is one by the name of "Dear Esther."
Ever since it was released as a free mod in 2008, it has been dividing players and critics alike. Originally an art project from a group of students at Portsmouth University in the UK, the game simply features a first-person player walking around the island of Hebrides, listening to philosophical voice overs concerning the player's pre-exisiting relationship with a so-called "Esther." Many argue that it spawned the "walking simulator" genre: games characterised by many as "dripping with atmosphere," but as "lacking playability."
So what does this say about artistic attempts to consolidate the presence of such video games in actuality? Well, as the title of an article by Dan Seitz from Uproxx puts it, such games are "more admirable" than they are "playable," and are therefore meant to entice the player in a different way. Perhaps it demonstrates the possibility, then, of utilising computer graphics to provoke wondrousness and entice players simply by means of contemplation.
In order to understand what has psychologically led us to value this sort of artistic expression in video games, when they are, by definition, supposed to be entrancing by virtue of their ability to dissolute our actual surroundings and immerse us into the world created by computer graphics, we must ask ourselves what it is that that activity, in essence, entails.
In a way, our sense of appreciation for the graphics of a video game is dissolved when we project onto a screen (i.e. onto something external) our desire to compete, to struggle, to overcome: the success of most video games –and particularly that of older video games– is based on their ability to pit players against each other, or at best, a computer enemy. In the modern age, however, games that emphasise admirability over playability launch us into a state of contemplation that redefines the way that we can appreciate video games; much like art, their goal is to simply express, depict, and in a way, celebrate our ability to interpret and behold.
When Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild was released, I could hardly believe how far the franchise had come. Purely in terms of graphics, the game had, according to John Linneman of Eurogamer, pushed the Wii U hardware "to the limit" –and it is sometimes evident on screen: as players engage enemies or trigger the game's physics engine, the game drops frames in order to keep the gaming experience as enthralling as possible.
Here, then, we see that a balance must be reached between gameplay and visual punctiliousness –a dichotomy between making the visual landscape of a video game as captivating as possible without sacrificing its gameplay.
Moreover, the evolution of computer graphics have allowed video game developers to envision and engender video games as a new type of art form –that is, it has allowed developers to place overwhelming emphasis on immersion as opposed to playability. A good example of this kind of video game is one by the name of "Dear Esther."
Ever since it was released as a free mod in 2008, it has been dividing players and critics alike. Originally an art project from a group of students at Portsmouth University in the UK, the game simply features a first-person player walking around the island of Hebrides, listening to philosophical voice overs concerning the player's pre-exisiting relationship with a so-called "Esther." Many argue that it spawned the "walking simulator" genre: games characterised by many as "dripping with atmosphere," but as "lacking playability."
So what does this say about artistic attempts to consolidate the presence of such video games in actuality? Well, as the title of an article by Dan Seitz from Uproxx puts it, such games are "more admirable" than they are "playable," and are therefore meant to entice the player in a different way. Perhaps it demonstrates the possibility, then, of utilising computer graphics to provoke wondrousness and entice players simply by means of contemplation.
In order to understand what has psychologically led us to value this sort of artistic expression in video games, when they are, by definition, supposed to be entrancing by virtue of their ability to dissolute our actual surroundings and immerse us into the world created by computer graphics, we must ask ourselves what it is that that activity, in essence, entails.
In a way, our sense of appreciation for the graphics of a video game is dissolved when we project onto a screen (i.e. onto something external) our desire to compete, to struggle, to overcome: the success of most video games –and particularly that of older video games– is based on their ability to pit players against each other, or at best, a computer enemy. In the modern age, however, games that emphasise admirability over playability launch us into a state of contemplation that redefines the way that we can appreciate video games; much like art, their goal is to simply express, depict, and in a way, celebrate our ability to interpret and behold.
Saturday, 10 February 2018
Nostalgia or Progress?
Computer engineers and computer programmers of the latter 1970s unknowingly faced one of the most relevant questions concerning consumerism in the modern digital age: how to market technology as a commodity to the general public. More specifically, they were the first and only wave of engineers and innovators to introduce the concept of a personal computer to a generation previously unacquainted with them.
The new market thus relied on a great deal of creativity and flexibility. This is why video games had such a tremendous and profound impact on the public perception of computers; particularly when compared to the gargantuan machines of the 1960s and 1970s, personal computers offered an entirely new realm of functionality and entertainment. As John Romero, the designer of several hugely popular games such as Wolfenstein, Doom and Quake, puts it, "the fact that computers were primarily used to play games really helped to get people to accept that computers were good and helpful devices."
Personal computers thus paved the way for the production and consumption of modern-day video game consoles. By refining the controllers used to play video games, these consoles experimented with the potential ways that people could interact with technology. From the keyboard evolved the joystick, from the joystick evolved the handheld controllers, and from these evolved wireless movement sensors; we can see a clear progression in terms of how these technological advancements shaped player engagement, and from it we may derive that there has been a continued attempt to enhance the user experience.
Regardless of these improvements, many gamers have nevertheless been hesitant or skeptical to embrace the launch and widespread usage of these new consoles. This, I think, is attributable to the "nostalgia culture" that the Internet since its beginning harbors; that is, it sometimes seems as though the Internet is just a hub of embedded nostalgia. Adrienne LaFrance, a writer for The Atlantic, captures this sentiment wholesomely: "You are, at any given moment, just a few clicks and keystrokes away from local television that aired 40 years ago, from discontinued toys, and from sounds you haven't heard in forever." I think this is the primary reason for why many prefer to game on their personal computers as opposed to systems optimized and developed to deliver the most organic gaming experiences.
While I have never been an avid PC gamer (not because of lack of exposure, but rather because of a lack of continued interest), I continue to be fascinated by the gaming experiences that modern consoles can deliver. Namely, I am convinced that handheld controllers offer a higher level of immersion than a keyboard with letters. This poses, in my eyes, an inextricable advantage over personal computers that PCs will never overcome.
That is not to say that there is no game which may offer better playability on the PC: text based games, as well as point and click games, can definitely be facilitated by a keyboard and a mouse. However, I don't believe that these games have the potential to be as immersive; that is why it is important to not allow nostalgia to dictate all facets of innovation, particularly within the field of gaming.
The new market thus relied on a great deal of creativity and flexibility. This is why video games had such a tremendous and profound impact on the public perception of computers; particularly when compared to the gargantuan machines of the 1960s and 1970s, personal computers offered an entirely new realm of functionality and entertainment. As John Romero, the designer of several hugely popular games such as Wolfenstein, Doom and Quake, puts it, "the fact that computers were primarily used to play games really helped to get people to accept that computers were good and helpful devices."
Personal computers thus paved the way for the production and consumption of modern-day video game consoles. By refining the controllers used to play video games, these consoles experimented with the potential ways that people could interact with technology. From the keyboard evolved the joystick, from the joystick evolved the handheld controllers, and from these evolved wireless movement sensors; we can see a clear progression in terms of how these technological advancements shaped player engagement, and from it we may derive that there has been a continued attempt to enhance the user experience.
Regardless of these improvements, many gamers have nevertheless been hesitant or skeptical to embrace the launch and widespread usage of these new consoles. This, I think, is attributable to the "nostalgia culture" that the Internet since its beginning harbors; that is, it sometimes seems as though the Internet is just a hub of embedded nostalgia. Adrienne LaFrance, a writer for The Atlantic, captures this sentiment wholesomely: "You are, at any given moment, just a few clicks and keystrokes away from local television that aired 40 years ago, from discontinued toys, and from sounds you haven't heard in forever." I think this is the primary reason for why many prefer to game on their personal computers as opposed to systems optimized and developed to deliver the most organic gaming experiences.
While I have never been an avid PC gamer (not because of lack of exposure, but rather because of a lack of continued interest), I continue to be fascinated by the gaming experiences that modern consoles can deliver. Namely, I am convinced that handheld controllers offer a higher level of immersion than a keyboard with letters. This poses, in my eyes, an inextricable advantage over personal computers that PCs will never overcome.
That is not to say that there is no game which may offer better playability on the PC: text based games, as well as point and click games, can definitely be facilitated by a keyboard and a mouse. However, I don't believe that these games have the potential to be as immersive; that is why it is important to not allow nostalgia to dictate all facets of innovation, particularly within the field of gaming.
Sunday, 4 February 2018
The Golden Age of Video Games
What makes the prototype so valuable in comparison to its successors? That is, what gives an invention "vintage" status?; and moreover, what causes such an invention to generate interest in the continued development of its type?
Inventions become memorable in the eyes of history when they promote continued growth, promise change, and lead to innovation. Even something like war, the most destructive invention of mankind, leads to a change in the course of history; leads to innovation in the current condition of mankind (e.g. World War II saw some of the biggest advancements in medicine, technology and communication; as a matter of fact, the Internet was a direct consequence of this worldwide conflict).
In my opinion, a society deeply devoted to the creation and development of video games is one that demonstrates a relative amount of stability; in other words, one that has transcended the general need for things such as food and security, and can focus on the interaction between man and machine. When modern industry shifts its focus away from the means of production for subsistence, and instead concentrates on the development of interactive forms of entertainment, we may conjecture that focus has shifted away from fulfilling basic needs and moved towards the increased value in things that keep us occupied and engaged with one another. Perhaps, the most valuable thing about the video games of the golden age is that they introduced a new way for people to engage with technology and one another.
Now, because many of these games are remembered very fondly, we must understand the underlying reasons why. Is it simply a matter of nostalgia? Or is there something fundamental about the nature of these prototypical video games which evokes us to think deeply about their function in the history of computing?
I would certainly argue that they modified the definition of "User Experience" forever. At the start, engineers were simply problem solvers; they would design and develop new technology with the aim of simplifying a particular task, thereby making life easier and more accessible to others. However, the rise of video games introduced the idea that engineers could do much more than solve problems for others; namely, that they could creative interactive visuals which could engage others and motivate them to solve problems themselves.
The motivation of gamers to continue solving problems was directly an impact of the rise of these golden classics, and this drive to solve problems definitely generated an interest in the fundamentals of computing and programming. Given the wide demographic of video game players, the conception of these golden age games led to an induced cross-disciplinary burst of video game ideas: shooting games, adventure games, sports games, etc. Thus, it was proven that video games did not appeal to a particular group of people or strata of the general populace, but to each and all.
However, this led to more variation in video games, which has led it to become a worldwide phenomenon for all groups and ages. My dad, for instance, was not hugely interested in video games when they first started coming out; however, given his interest in sports, as the quality of sports video games progressed, he became a more frequent player of video games. Perhaps this goes to show that although the creation of video games in the golden age did not immediately captivate the entire world, they were the primordial stepping stone in understanding the way that users liked to be engaged, which aided the development of subsequent titles and consoles.
Inventions become memorable in the eyes of history when they promote continued growth, promise change, and lead to innovation. Even something like war, the most destructive invention of mankind, leads to a change in the course of history; leads to innovation in the current condition of mankind (e.g. World War II saw some of the biggest advancements in medicine, technology and communication; as a matter of fact, the Internet was a direct consequence of this worldwide conflict).
In my opinion, a society deeply devoted to the creation and development of video games is one that demonstrates a relative amount of stability; in other words, one that has transcended the general need for things such as food and security, and can focus on the interaction between man and machine. When modern industry shifts its focus away from the means of production for subsistence, and instead concentrates on the development of interactive forms of entertainment, we may conjecture that focus has shifted away from fulfilling basic needs and moved towards the increased value in things that keep us occupied and engaged with one another. Perhaps, the most valuable thing about the video games of the golden age is that they introduced a new way for people to engage with technology and one another.
Now, because many of these games are remembered very fondly, we must understand the underlying reasons why. Is it simply a matter of nostalgia? Or is there something fundamental about the nature of these prototypical video games which evokes us to think deeply about their function in the history of computing?
I would certainly argue that they modified the definition of "User Experience" forever. At the start, engineers were simply problem solvers; they would design and develop new technology with the aim of simplifying a particular task, thereby making life easier and more accessible to others. However, the rise of video games introduced the idea that engineers could do much more than solve problems for others; namely, that they could creative interactive visuals which could engage others and motivate them to solve problems themselves.
The motivation of gamers to continue solving problems was directly an impact of the rise of these golden classics, and this drive to solve problems definitely generated an interest in the fundamentals of computing and programming. Given the wide demographic of video game players, the conception of these golden age games led to an induced cross-disciplinary burst of video game ideas: shooting games, adventure games, sports games, etc. Thus, it was proven that video games did not appeal to a particular group of people or strata of the general populace, but to each and all.
However, this led to more variation in video games, which has led it to become a worldwide phenomenon for all groups and ages. My dad, for instance, was not hugely interested in video games when they first started coming out; however, given his interest in sports, as the quality of sports video games progressed, he became a more frequent player of video games. Perhaps this goes to show that although the creation of video games in the golden age did not immediately captivate the entire world, they were the primordial stepping stone in understanding the way that users liked to be engaged, which aided the development of subsequent titles and consoles.
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