The Medium is the Message, Not the Opposite: Violence in Video Games

“Violence is inherent in the medium, inseparable from the essential experience of playing games. Without competition and conflict resolved by violence, games wouldn’t be games: they’d be screensavers.” – Joe McNeilly, “2008: A Year to Dismember,” Gamesradar.com

To anyone who plays games on a regular basis, it is absolutely clear that there is no shortage of violence in video games. Often though, that violence is labeled as an integral part to the experience of gaming. Video games, to too many people, are equated with violence.

As a player whom many of my favorite games include no trace of violence, I take personal exception to this. To reduce the medium to such a base component is to do it an injustice. Many meaningful movies, for instance, have violence, but the violence is not showcased. Maybe this is another example of game development, in a misinformed fashion, mimicking the Hollywood machine. It seems that many developers choose to label their products as action games, if only because they exhibit a lack of horror, drama, or any other genre’s element in them (probably because they have no story to sustain any of these elements). An “action game” might as well be synonymous with “video game” for the average consumer, and from that it is not difficult to see how video games invite violence.

It takes an agency outside of simply consuming to see games for what they can, and should be: engaging entertainment. This lens does not necessitate violence.

If engaging film and literature can be created about the difficulties of the mundane, why can’t the same be said for videogames? Is that not what art is? What the industry strives for? Games, ones that aspire to be art, should aspire to teach about life. Real, regular life. Not space adventure, not treasure hunting, not bringing down colossi.

It just seems such a preposterous idea: waste a near limitless digital canvas, a video game, on the mundane. Or it must seem that way to most gamers, since there is very little in the way of reality-based games. Is it not arrogant of developers, to assume so little of their audience, or so much of their own fiction, that they think nothing of ignoring the real world? A world we, their customers, can all relate to?

The more violent a game becomes, the more it becomes removed from its audiences’ reality. Video game consumers do not gun down monsters, civilians or anything for that matter, in droves in their everyday lives. Nor do they want to, any more than an avid horror fan wants to kill unsuspecting teenagers, or a war film buff would like to be caught in a fire fight. These situations are escapism—limit testing, psychologically—but escapism nonetheless. For the average consumer, they represent nothing of what they would like their lives to be modeled after. For some, a world completely removed from reality is an attractive one, but that world could be one of fantasy, where gravity is skewed and the people are made out of yarn. I think there was something called Little Big Planet that did all right for itself. Not all games are violent, and violence absolutely does not need to be a staple of the industry.

Andrew Przybylski, researcher at the University of Rochester, recently published findings showing that players engage no more or no less with games that are overtly violent when compared to games that are not (you should really read about it). He notes:

“The message for game designers is that their resources are probably better spent designing games that will satisfy the psychological needs of players to feel competent, a feeling of autonomy and being connected to other players.” - Andrew Przybylski, Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, University of Rochester

All I can do is contrast this kind of reasonable, forward thinking to that of someone like Joe McNeilly, who says that:

“With Fallout 3’s VATS system, players target specific limbs in a semi-turn-based combat. Add in the Bloody Mess perk, in which limbs spontaneously explode off the body of a vanquished foe, and you have the Game of the Year.” – Joe McNeilly, “2008: A Year to Dismember,” Gamesradar.com

McNeilly is clearly missing the point. For whatever reason, he has actively ignored Fallout 3’s incredible achievements in exploration, storytelling and interaction, and is purporting the assumption that all of the game’s success stems from the fact that the player can dismember his enemies.

McNeilly then launches into a ludicrous diatribe, likening gamers’ alleged hunger for this dismemberment to the division between Right and Left wing politics, global warming, religious wars and the Patriot Act. What? It’s articles like McNeilly’s that lead me to believe that maybe the industry is sabotaging itself.

If we, as video game consumers, believe that there is nothing more than violence and strife in our worlds, real and digital, then that’s all there will ever be.

Some References:

Joe McNeilly, and his thoughts on how much you like to kill when you play, 2008, A Year to Dismember.

Andrew Przybylski, and his idea that people do not lust after blood in their gaming.

Joe Baca, California Congressman, and his proposed labeling for violent viodegames. This is a good one. Let me know what you think in the comments section.

AJ Glasser, editor for Kotaku.com, and her feelings towards videogame violence.

Please Read This

If you care about where games are going as an art form.

I know it's long. Try anyway.

"The next decade or so is going to see the world of video games convulsed by battles between the moneymen and the artists; if the good guys win, or win enough of the time, we’re going to have a whole new art form." -John Lanchester, London Review of Books

...keep reading.

Proof of Concept: Narrative in Games

I don’t see why there is a debate about whether or not story has a place in videogames. I think it’s very clear that most, if not all, people are compelled by narrative in games or otherwise. We have clear examples in film and literature, two fields dedicated solely to the craft of narrative (experimental film and literature aside, for now), but we can still find less obvious examples that show us how much more involved we become when a set of events becomes story.

Good games deserve a good narrative. Granted, a game doesn’t need a narrative to survive, or even be fun, but leaving it out is akin to, say, using nothing but stock art from the 8-bit-era. In both cases, things are going on onscreen, but none of it makes very much sense. Tetris’ art is about equivalent to its story.

But every game, even the simplest of designs, can benefit from story, if it is intelligently conceived. Jeff Ross, of Sony bend, has a quote on Joystiq:

“Since game mechanics can only reproduce the abstraction an experience, it is left to story/theme/narrative to help complete player immersion. Consider Frequency and Amplitude, two fun and very abstract music games that most people have never heard of. Simply changing the theme and adding a guitar-shaped controller transformed the experience completely. People were no longer pressing random buttons in sequence to music, they were rock stars. This is narrative at work.”[Joystiq 2008/12/22]

Maybe Tetris could have been even more with this kind of creative thought. The key is to have narrative that can amplify the gameplay, much like good art in a game. It seems though that all too often developers don’t consider this balance when creating their product. They choose to mimic the motions of a ‘riveting story’ so that they can use the claim as a bullet point on the back of their box. They don’t consider whether their story is serving their gameplay or vice versa. When developers recognize how to find this balance, their game succeeds. It is, however, often too difficult a question to answer whether a game concept calls for more or less narrative. The ‘narrative’ given in the example above, transforming Amplitude into Guitar Hero, is really more of a change of framing than an added narrative, but it is a valid narrative design choice nonetheless. It’s clear how that small shift can affect sales, at least.

Tom Gaubatz, producer for publisher Mastiff, says of story in games that:

“It depends completely on the genre and the title. That said, a huge part of our concept of games is still inherited from early arcade games: stimulate the player just enough to make him put in another quarter. Games are still, in most cases, very much about short-term rewards. Regardless of the quality of the story, if the gameplay doesn't deliver regular challenges and psychological rewards, people won't play it.”[Joystiq, 2008/12/22]

But what about games that have a balance that favors narrative over gameplay? Look at the Ace Attorney series. It is difficult to argue that they are more game than novel, but they are popular among a hardcore gaming crowd nonetheless. Capcom has attempted, and largely succeeded, in delivering those same challenges and psychological thrills that would normally come from gameplay through their storytelling. The player must be smart enough and, more importantly in this case, absolutely engaged in the minutia of the story to complete the game. Knowing the story is being good at the game.

A large part of the resistance to story in games seems to be simple misunderstanding. Have a look at the following quote by Ben Mattes, producer of the newest Prince of Persia:

“As I mentioned earlier, I think we could have done a better job in giving more challenge to those gamers who play a game to Accomplish and Achieve, rather then Experience. We talked a lot about it during development (multiple difficulty settings, etc) but could not come up with a way to modify all aspects of the game (combat, acrobatics, trap difficulty) in a graceful and interesting way.”[IGN, Prince of Persia Afterthoughts]

Mattes, here, is making the mistaken assumption that players that want to Achieve and those who want to Experience are mutually exclusive. He is also asserting that games cannot offer both at once. By attempting to separate the desires of what may very well be the same buyer, one who wants to both Experience and Achieve in their gaming, the team created a product that did little in the way of grabbing peoples’ attention (beautiful art style aside).

It seems that many developers are pre-disposed against including story in their games, if only for the simple reason that it is difficult:

“Telling stories in games is hard. Consider that a game is an 8-24 hour experience. When did you see an interesting and compelling 8-24 hour movie last? Games have to find their own way of telling stories, instead of relying on old methods from other mediums. The problem is that movies are so standard it's a hard thing to change.”[Ulf Andersson, GRIN co-founder and Bionic Commando game director, Joystiq 2008/12/23]

Why is Hollywood so many developers’ first choice for inspiration? Ulf is right, in a way: why is the short and intense method of storytelling that is a movie taking the helm for a medium that does indeed have a minimum of ten or more hours worth of content? It seems clear that the pacing in a movie would never match that of the pacing in a game. Nobody enjoys filler levels in a movie-licensed game; but it’s no wonder, they’re filler, and without them the game would only be as long as the movie it is attempting to re-create, which would be far too short for what gamers are used to in this generation.

It is surprising that more developers haven’t started looking for other methods of telling their stories. Good ideas for pacing and tension wouldn’t be hard to find. Maybe they could turn on their televisions and realize that shows like Lost, Dexter, House, any television drama, really, have perfected, to an art, the idea of drawing out a story. Granted, Lost might have alienated a lot of its viewership with a convoluted plot, but it had the idea of small, focused stories inside a larger narrative absolutely right, which is something more games, especially ones that are seeking to be called story-based, should look to include. How many life stories can you find, should you choose, on the computers in Fallout 3? Enough for a few hours of good reading, certainly, and it all gets counted towards “gameplay length” because the disc is still spinning in your console. Tricky.

Regardless of how developers choose to justify their aversion to story, they can’t avoid that people look for it in nearly all aspects of their lives. Sports fans follow their favorite teams, and players, and usually know the ups and downs of any given career. That investment adds to the excitement. You can see peoples’ personal investment in soap operas, in professional wrestling, racing, reality television—in almost all aspects of life, recreational or otherwise. If there’s a plot, natural or conceived, there’s a reason to follow it.