Choice and Video Games
I'm wondering if part of the appeal of video games has to do with the ability to make choices. I'm thinking it does.
Choice is important. People who feel that they have the ability to make choices in their lives seem to be happier. Seem to live longer and be healthier. And those who feel that they don't have much control over their lives are a hell of a lot less happy. Like that study of patients in an old folk's home who were given plants to care for. Those who were responsible for their plants were a lot happier than those who were told the nursing staff would take care of the plants. Choice. Responsibility. Control. Even if it's only control over a potted plant.
There's been a lot of stressful stuff happening in my life lately, and for most of it I feel like I don't have a choice. J is stressed, and much of his stress has nothing to do with me. And then there's my mother's breast cancer. That's terrifying. I have no control over what happens there whatsoever. Feeling powerless = terrifying.
And I'm betting that my recent streak of playing Left 4 Dead every night coincides pretty strongly with when I found out about my mother's breast cancer. And ya, some of it is having a clear cut bad guy I can shoot at. Some of it is distraction. But I think a lot of it is the feeling of choice and control. My actions provoke direct reactions. My decisions made a difference in the flow of the action and the way I experience the game. I feel in control. I can affect the world around me (or around my character, in this case).
The thing is, our brains can't tell the difference between a video game and real life. Not really. You release adrenaline when you feel threatened or excited. Both in reality and when playing a game. Or watching a movie (though I suspect less so there, since you can't directly affect the course of a movie). This is why anxiety is so fricking powerful. You think of something that worries or frightens you, and it really worries or frightens you even if it isn't happening. (I'm afraid of my mom dying. She isn't dying right now. But I'm still frightened about it. In a very real sense, the thought of her dying is more powerful than the reality of her being here).
Which brings me back to games. Where I have choices. Where I feel like my actions have predictable consequences. And where I really don't like being offered no choices, and I really don't like being offered too many choices. For example - I like Left 4 Dead better than Left 4 Dead 2. Because 2 has too many fricking choices. Do I want to use the frying pan, or the cricket bat, or the "ninja sword", or the chainsaw, or the crowbar, or my pistols? These things all occupy the same slots. Which is better? Which do I like more? It's actually kinda paralyzing and painful. Not massively so, but enough to make me like the game a lot less.
Same thing with dialogue trees. If I have two distinct options that lead in different directions, I like that. Even a third option is cool. But four? Five? Six? Gah. Stressful. Too much thinking, not enough playing.
We think we want lots of choices. You ask most people if they want a lot of choices or a few, and they'll usually answer a lot. But in reality? They don't. In practice, too many choices can be nearly as bad as too few.
Of course, I may be completely wrong. But I don't think so.
Choice is important. People who feel that they have the ability to make choices in their lives seem to be happier. Seem to live longer and be healthier. And those who feel that they don't have much control over their lives are a hell of a lot less happy. Like that study of patients in an old folk's home who were given plants to care for. Those who were responsible for their plants were a lot happier than those who were told the nursing staff would take care of the plants. Choice. Responsibility. Control. Even if it's only control over a potted plant.
There's been a lot of stressful stuff happening in my life lately, and for most of it I feel like I don't have a choice. J is stressed, and much of his stress has nothing to do with me. And then there's my mother's breast cancer. That's terrifying. I have no control over what happens there whatsoever. Feeling powerless = terrifying.
And I'm betting that my recent streak of playing Left 4 Dead every night coincides pretty strongly with when I found out about my mother's breast cancer. And ya, some of it is having a clear cut bad guy I can shoot at. Some of it is distraction. But I think a lot of it is the feeling of choice and control. My actions provoke direct reactions. My decisions made a difference in the flow of the action and the way I experience the game. I feel in control. I can affect the world around me (or around my character, in this case).
The thing is, our brains can't tell the difference between a video game and real life. Not really. You release adrenaline when you feel threatened or excited. Both in reality and when playing a game. Or watching a movie (though I suspect less so there, since you can't directly affect the course of a movie). This is why anxiety is so fricking powerful. You think of something that worries or frightens you, and it really worries or frightens you even if it isn't happening. (I'm afraid of my mom dying. She isn't dying right now. But I'm still frightened about it. In a very real sense, the thought of her dying is more powerful than the reality of her being here).
Which brings me back to games. Where I have choices. Where I feel like my actions have predictable consequences. And where I really don't like being offered no choices, and I really don't like being offered too many choices. For example - I like Left 4 Dead better than Left 4 Dead 2. Because 2 has too many fricking choices. Do I want to use the frying pan, or the cricket bat, or the "ninja sword", or the chainsaw, or the crowbar, or my pistols? These things all occupy the same slots. Which is better? Which do I like more? It's actually kinda paralyzing and painful. Not massively so, but enough to make me like the game a lot less.
Same thing with dialogue trees. If I have two distinct options that lead in different directions, I like that. Even a third option is cool. But four? Five? Six? Gah. Stressful. Too much thinking, not enough playing.
We think we want lots of choices. You ask most people if they want a lot of choices or a few, and they'll usually answer a lot. But in reality? They don't. In practice, too many choices can be nearly as bad as too few.
Of course, I may be completely wrong. But I don't think so.