The Language of Videogames: Part 2 Observation, Experimentation, Response

The best game worlds are ones that mirror our own. They do not have to be exact but the similarity is enough to make the deliberate differences in design all the more interesting. There is no possible way that in real life a solider could be shot several times and heal themselves by simply taking cover. Yet, regenerative health has become a staple of many modern shooters because it increases the fun factor. These purposeful differences make the game what it is, giving the player a unique way to interact with the game world than they would be able to with the real world.

To a large number of gamers already well versed in the language of videogames spotting and using these differences are easy. They are part of play. It is their purpose to be used, abused and exploited for the purpose of the game. I have deliberately just waited in a corner and killed the infinitely respawning enemies exploiting the game’s A.I. by refusing to trigger the next section of game play. Most gamers, myself included, are fluent in the language of videogames. By now it is second nature to pick up a game and with little effort understand how it works. Yet, that is not always the case.

Allow me to return to my friend playing Journey. In the very beginning of the game the red cloaked traveler is sitting in the sand. A control prompt appears on screen indicating to tilt the controller to the left. My friend does so and is impressed as the game world pans around to the left for her to see. The same thing happens as she tilts to the right. Then to my confusion, she holds the controller upright, face buttons to her, and pushes forward. The game does absolutely nothing. 

“Why did you do that?” I ask.

“Well, if moving the controller left makes it go left and right makes it go right intuitively I would think pushing the controller forward would make it go forward,” is her response.

“That’s not how it works,” I tell her.

“Well I haven’t played before the game before. I don’t know the controls,” she says a little defensively. Luckily, another on screen prompt tells her to push the left analog stick. The traveler gets up and starts walking. 

For a while after my mind raced. ‘How could she do that? How could she not understand? Left stick is always move.’ I was just beginning to scrape the edges of this idea: that videogames are a language. My friend does not play a lot of games. Journey was a new experience for her. The things I took for granted as understood she still had to learn. I was quick to jump to conclusions passed on irrational gamer passion. ‘She’s just a sucky player.’ And I was wrong. It is not her skill set that is lacking, it was her understanding. By holding the controller parallel to her and pushing it forward she engaged in the first step of learning the language of videogames: observation, experimentation and response.

If that three word set sounds strikingly familiar to the scientific method we have all be taught in school that’s because it is. The first step in learning the language of videogames is not specific to videogames. All types of learning share this same fundamental step. First by observing the environment and taking in stimuli found there an assumption of action can be made. A baby sees its parents walking on two legs and thinks that it should as well. A first time student in a Spanish class hears all the other students saying “Hola” and assumes he should as well. My friend tilts the controller seeing that the camera pans with it and believes that the movement input must also be within controller movements. That assumption is then tested and experimented in the environment of observation. The baby attempts to balance and put one foot in front of the other. The student says “Hola” when he passes the teacher’s desk. My friend pushes the controller forward hoping the traveler will move. Finally, a response to the experimental action is recorded. The baby takes one step and then falls. The student receives a “buen trabajo” from the teacher. The game does nothing, the traveler is left sitting in the sand and my friend is dismayed. The ultimate step is to make this a cycle where the response is recorded as a new observation to be factored into the next experiment. The baby hopes to take two steps next time. The student plans to use more Spanish in the future. My friend adjusts her input to the game to derive the desired outcome. 

It is a fundamental cycle of learning that applies just a well to videogames as to any other medium. Videogames are a language that must be learned. That day with Journey has increased my friends understanding. She is still far from fluent, but the basics are becoming known to her. As a gamer it is easy to accept these things, looking over the fact that we too once had to learn how to play a game. Interactions in a world exactly like our won apply by all the same rules that govern our own world. The simple act of living as a human being has taught us these rules. But in a game world, one that mirrors our own with purposeful differences for play  mechanics, those rules do not always apply in the same manner. We must learn again how to interact with that world. The same principles that a child uses to learn to walk are the same ones that we as players use to take our first steps into the world of a videogame.