As someone who spends most of their working hours making stuff with a computer, I tend to want a break at the end of the day from all things screens. I find refuge in walking, running, and working with my hands. My eyes need a rest. So when my kids want to play a game with me on their iPads, typically in Roblox or Minecraft, I seldom take up the offer, even though they treat me like royalty and shower me with digital gifts when I do.
I get the appeal of games. I love a good game. I get obsessed with them from time to time to the detriment of my friends and family, even my health, just to see where the story goes. Now and then, maybe once a year or two, I will find myself deeply engrossed in a video game. I especially love RPG and RTS games with a good story. Breath of the Wild, Red Dead Redemption, Command and Conquer, Starcraft, Half-Life, Deus Ex, Knights of the Old Republic – all games I’ve spent hours and hours playing, to the point of obsession, almost painfully so, until the game finally ended and I reached a sort of absolution. And while that ultimate conclusion – beating the game – is fun for a moment, it’s quickly supplanted by a feeling of loss. Like the end of a good book. In one moment the story is over, the curtains are drawn, and the illusion fades into the hum-drum reality of the day.
But not all games are great. My girlfriend was recently obsessing over a cheesy mobile game, one that my kids had lured her into. She couldn’t put her phone down all day. I sat back, very comfortable in my self-righteous throne, looking down my nose at her lack of willpower. She was tapping away at a little kids’ game that never went anywhere. I even felt sorry for her.
That night, after the kids went to sleep, we sat lying in our bed. Knowing I had nowhere better to be, she showed me the game she was playing. It was called “Suvirvor!.io.” It looked a lot like every other mobile game I had seen my kids play – a player fights waves of zombies while collecting tokens, gems, and upgrades and amassing an absurd inventory rivaled only by Amazon. All the while long the player is being peddled shameless advertising and in-app purchases to make the game halfway playable.
While watching her play, and learning about the various upgrades and game strategy, I thought why not, I could give it a shot. I downloaded the game and started up the first level. At least I wasn’t going to need a sleeping pill that night. The boredom from this game would be all the sedative I would require.
That morning I woke up feeling drained. My body ached and my head thrummed. I did not get a good night’s rest. I did not sleep well. I did, however, reach chapter three and amass a ton of upgrades, gems, gold, and equipment. The only clear thing my muddled brain could piece together was that I needed to to go downstairs and immediately let my kids know of my accomplishments.
An hour later and all four of us were huddled in the living room, tapping away at this God-forsaken game, periodically updating each other on our progress, sharing our screens to show off a new upgrade, and shifting our positions now and then to bring the feeling back to a limb gone numb. In general, we were having a good time. I really cherished that experience.
We played all through the day, until close to dinner time. I had so many plans for that day but they were all shot to pieces by this little game. The next couple of days were similar. I was having a good time, or so I thought, but the game quickly lost its appeal. It started feeling like work and more draining than anything. It was interesting how addictive it was. My girlfriend, a psychiatrist, said it was likely due to its variable reward system, a highly addictive pattern that is found in other addictions like gambling. This is a well-known human behavior and it’s constantly being exploited in countless ways. It’s often disguised as something beneficial and games are just one of the many platforms where it can be found.
I had heard of this concept before and was aware that some games preyed on this behavior. In fact, you could argue that all games trigger this reward system to some degree and it might be one of the big reasons we find them so appealing. But when games dial it up to max levels it starts to look less like a game and more like a slot machine. I see my kids get obsessed with some of these repetitive “tapping” games, amassing a wealth of digital rewards that serve little purpose except to accrue even more of the same rewards.
While I generally despise this type of game format for this very reason, I really did enjoy that one day, when all four of us were sitting around being lazy and playing the same game together. That momentary community made it worthwhile for me and I find myself somewhat torn on the subject. I even wrote a blog post about it. Games are weird.