Game designers used to be innocent, you know?

March 9th, 2010

They used to create games that were simply FUN. But at some point, someone read something about operant conditioning and thought “um… that’s already in videogames. But what if…”, and videogames became Skinner Boxes to bring us all and in the darkess dim light of our living rooms bind us.

David Wong shows in this article that we are just rats pressing some levers to get food. But damn it, its terribly entertaining!

Some pearls:

“Your brain treats items and goods in the video game world as if they are real. Because they are (…) If it takes time, effort and skill to obtain an item, that item has value, whether it’s made of diamonds, binary code or beef jerky.”

“(…) people pay thousands of dollars for diamonds, even though diamonds do nothing but look pretty. A video game suit of armor looks pretty and protects you from video game orcs.”

“The terrible truth is that a whole lot of us begged for a Skinner Box we could crawl into, because the real world’s system of rewards is so much more slow and cruel than we expected it to be. In that, gaming is no different from other forms of mental escape, from sports fandom to moonshine.”

But it’s not just a matter of addiction. It’s the pure power of fantasy and imagination striking not a chord but  a whole sonata in us. Nothing better than Frank Budgen’s Double Life PlayStation ad to sum up what playing a videogame means:

For years, I’ve lived a double life.

In the day, I do my job – I ride the bus,
roll up my sleeves with the hoi-polloi.

But at night, I live a life of exhilaration,
of missed heartbeats and adrenalin.

And, if the truth be known,
a life of dubious virtue.

I won’t deny it – I’ve been engaged in violence,
even indulged in it.

I’ve maimed and killed adversaries,
and not merely in self-defence.

I’ve exhibited disregard for life, limb and property,
and savoured every moment.

You may not think it, to look of me,
but I have commanded armies,
and conquered worlds.

And though in achieving these things
I’ve set morality aside,
I have no regrets.

For though I’ve led a double life,
at least I can say – I’ve lived.

Peer Review. EGP Day… er… Last Day.

February 28th, 2010

Ok, it’s done. It looks like a storyboard, or a sketch or the shadow of a game. But I simply didn’t have more time to invest on it. It may sound like a joke… but I had to proof read my own thesis work this weekend! What an appropriate excuse!

Although I wanted to add a few more features, the game captures my own despair when dealing with writing and publishing a paper. And it sticks to the proposed theme: REJETION. Almost all details are meaningful!

Peer Review: Real as life itself.

The bearded guy on the left side represents your PhD director, your colleagues or your own brain, continuously creating new work for you. When your research is fruitful and you have something to show to the World, you write your paper (that’s obviously the act of writing in the game) and you send it to a journal or a conference.  The peer review process is usually blind, like our reviewer in the game. That  means that you are unaware of the identity of your reviewers. If the process is double-blind, they don’t know you either. At least, in theory.

When they read your paper you receive an email with their opinion and decision. If it has been accepted, you cry from happiness and keep working like a dog. But if they reject your paper…  It’s a little bit demoralizing. You assume their critics and either you correct the paper and send it back again or you send it to a new journal or conference if you think it is still a good work.

In the game, when a paper is not accepted the reviewer throws it back to you. On its way down, it may push other papers down… which represents how all your work is delayed in real life when something you think is good is rejected for reasons that are not always understandable.

With time, unpublished work accumulates at your feet. You may decide to give it a try and work on it again. Who knows, the next reviewer may find your work interesting! But most probably it will lay there until you quit and turn your attention to some less frustrating activities, like brushing your cat’s teeth.

It’s not exactly an experimental videogame. Let’s call it a digital and interactive tantrum!

Play it HERE.

Peer Review. EGP Day 4.

February 24th, 2010

I hacked in some sketches to represent each character: the PhD director (who also represents other colleagues), the reviewer and the scientist. There are a few things that simply don’t fit. That is, gameplay is not exactly entertaining… but that’s precisely what is nice about the ‘game in a week’ concept. If it doesn’t work, you haven’t lost a thing. And most probably you have learned something  useful. Anyway, I’ll try at least to add a start screen and make the whole thing playable before Day 7.


Design outside the box

February 23rd, 2010

Ok, if you like game design you MUST watch these videos. Jesse Schell talks about some intelligent game designs and how games are invading… REALITY. Some thoughts to think about! You did it? pling!

Peer Review. EGP Day 3.

February 23rd, 2010

I changed how the player ‘writes’ new papers. Until now, he just moved the scientist sideways with ‘z’ and ‘x’ and blowed papers pressing space repeatidly. Now, the player has to lie his hands on the keyboard as if writing. The character is controlled with ‘a’ and ‘l’ (with the little fingers) and in order to send papers upwards he has to type furiously. Anything is good if you type fast enough.

Reviewers already review your papers (they say things like “It lacks important references”). When rejected, your work is thrown back to you. Thanks to papers colliding with each other, a rejected paper may push other papers downwards, which represents how a rejected paper may slow down all your research activity. Real as life!