I knew I had to start at a pretty basic level. I started out asking them to look at War Games and Tron and a few other games-related movies, and I had them watch/play the famous Strongbad on classic video games. We also had a unit on new games journalism as a bridge between game reviews (the only kind of writing about games I expected the students to be familiar with) and games criticism. The “culture” came before the “theory” in this class. It was a three-week January course. A few students dropped the course when they saw the workload, and the ones who stuck it out said they would have enjoyed it much better if it were a regular full-term class. (I would have been able to assign more reading then, and also perhaps spent some time as a class in EverQuest.)

In retrospect, I think I should have had them buy an Atari Classics CD as a required text, since some of the students Googled for the titles of classic games, ended up finding and playing Flash or Java emulations that weren’t terribly faithful to the original, and played them without a sense of what the emulations were missing.

I do teach some upper-level new media courses. I would definitely use Koster’s book again for the lower-level course, but I would problably just put the library’s copy on reserve if I were to use it again for an upper-level course. It’s a good introduction, but it’s not written for an academic audience.

An example of this at work would be bluffing in poker. The difference between a bluff done by a computer based on an algorithm and a bluff done by a human you cannot see, versus a bluff done by a human you cannot see and a human you can, is quite impressive. Poker played against humans (versus poker played against a computer) is a far richer game.

Really? I’ve heard a bit about adaptive algorithms in poker playing recently which make some interesting variations, while I’ve heard a lot of coworkers discussing online poker as basically a way to make money statistically. I don’t play poker myself, but from what I’ve heard it sounded like the two sides’ playing styles could blur when the algorithms are interesting enough, and the players are strong enough at their math.

Anyway, that wasn’t your point. And maybe you were thinking of no-limit poker. ;)

Rather, Nick’s on the right track when he cites Jesper’s treatment of physics. Many games do NOT design physics into their ruleset. (In fact, most sports games will design in only a fraction of actual physics). You can have also games that simulate a broad array of physical activities without simulating physics.

Physics has a lot of rules. We might like to conveniently label all of them under one word, but the fact is that physics is complex, really. It also permits all sorts of interesting behaviors, if fully implemented. Were sports games to REALLY include phsyics, you could set fire to other players. But they don’t, and you can’t.

We can think of physics as being an “included ruleset” similar to an included file in programming. (That is exactly how commercial physics engines work in games, after all). They provide a wide array of behaviors in a “blackbox” fashion–we only know the API, the interface to reach the behaviors. I consider them “outside the game rules” because they are never explicitly codified.

From a game design point of view, a game which makes actual use of physics is “including” a vast array of rules into its game without explicitly defining them. There is an assumption that a common frame of reference is shared, and that therefore everyone will know what’s up.

Physics is just one example of the sort of “imported ruleset” that games frequently use. All head-to-head games import human psychology as an additional ruleset defining how opponents make decisions. If you can communicate with the other player in any way (such as by seeing their face), a whole host of new and poorly defined game rules come into play. These generally complexify the game experience, without really complicating it since we are used to dealing with things like facial expressions.

An example of this at work would be bluffing in poker. The difference between a bluff done by a computer based on an algorithm and a bluff done by a human you cannot see, versus a bluff done by a human you cannot see and a human you can, is quite impressive. Poker played against humans (versus poker played against a computer) is a far richer game.

In the book I reference game design atoms briefly. In the list of core elements of a game mechanic I cite “a challenge to overcome.” Formally constructed games tend to have defined all the challenges in advance. Less formally constructed games have more variables. Games which import rulesets which are full of ambiguity have a lot of highly unpredictable variables.

The easiest way to do this is to make another person the source of the challenges. The way to limit the ambiguity is to formally limit the possible challenges they can offer; to expand it, reduce the formal strictures on the challenges presented.

Hence the statements in the book.

I am beginning to think that I either needed to write a simpler book or a considerably more in-depth one. :) Certainly most of the reviewers seem to be asking for more in-depth.

the more formally constructed your game is, the more limited it will be.

refers to formal structure on the “activities” of the players — the specific hoops that need to be jumped through to make “progress” or at least cause something new to occur.

This doesn’t refer to rules — in chess you have pieces restricted by specific rules and a specific goal, but the method to get to checkmate is wide-open and not predetermined by structure.

I also get the impression he thinks limiting is a bad thing, and wants to disparage the World of Warcraft method of handing off quests on a silver platter. On the other hand, the players seem to *like* this more direct approach.

Part of the perception here is that because there is inflexibility in *direction of approach*, the structure itself is inflexible. This ignores the possibility of flexibility of *technique*.

Let me shift to second person here and take the Thief and Splinter Cell series as examples.

In Thief, you are not a fighter. You are limited in some areas in that you *must* be sneaky. However, you generally get many different methods of direction, of approach, so perhaps you are sneaky by entering the second story window or perhaps you are sneaky by dodging the guards up front.

In Splinter Cell, you can sneak or fight. You have more flexibility of technique than in Thief. The world structure itself, however, is highly linear, and you aren’t going to be able to vary which encounter you come across next.

I have heard people disparage Thief and praise Splinter Cell because they focused on technique. I have heard people disparage Splinter Cell and praise Thief because of their approaches to linearity.

I don’t suppose it’s too controversial to suggest that both methods of allowing player freedom are useful, even if particular personality types seem to prefer one over another?

I also have some problems with the theory of fun, but I will say this: I think his discussion on responsible game design is some fantastic stuff, and pretty much makes Theory of Fun required reading for just about anyone involved in game development, journalism and criticism. Not just for its content, but the way it’s written and presented.