GLS 5.0 Day One: Guilds & Guilt

June 21, 2009 in Uncategorized

Looking back across talks at GLS 5.0, on academic guild management and ethics (designed and emergent) in our interactive media.

The first session I attended at GLS was a ‘fireside chat’, lead by members of the Terror Nova guild in World of Warcraft. In a discussion moderated primarily by Thomas Malaby (of the namesake blog to which this guild is loosely affiliated), the group spoke about their experiences running a unique guild, in which only academics may seek membership but not one person may research the guild itself.

As a member of a guild which hopes to stake some academic ground myself, I found this to be a pretty enlightening example. One big question hanging over our own guild’s officership is that of governance, and it was interesting to hear of this example in which a ‘council of elders’, primarily tenured professors, would steer the course rather than having established hierarchies. The trick here was that most members of the guild knew each other from conferences or within their own universities – how does an academic guild manage such an open structure when there is quite clearly a divide between graduate student players and the tenured faculty staff? The group seemed not to reach any firm conclusions. Really, I believe that there would always be a degree of social hierarchy, even if it’s not an administrative one. Students would generally be unwilling to really lead their own professors, while the reverse may come somewhat naturally. I hope to come back to this idea once our own project guild kicks off, looking at how it can apply within a work environment of directors and designers.

Try as they might to avoid researching this strictly play-only space, few members could help but look at their lives outside the guild and see about applying some ludic metaphors. For example, one ‘guildie’ remarked that while sacrifice of their material goods at the guild vault came naturally to them within the game, it actually led to a degree of social sacrifice in their workplace, and an understanding that reviewing papers and the like worked out a similar goal for similar rewards. There was also some talk of ‘gaming the system’ in their own faculties, arranging conference ‘raid groups’ of tank, healer and DPS or finding interesting new ways to ‘ninja loot’.

The second session we attended was a series of micro-presentations, with a central topic of Ethical Choices & Transgression in Games. The star presentation for me was Manveer Heir‘s talk on Designing Ethical Dilemmas. Speaking directly from a games design background, he laid out exciting reasons why and how games can be made to offer meaningful ethical choices in order to lend the medium greater impact and interest.

He suggested that the two motivations games really pander two are fear and aggression (to which I would perhaps add greed, thinking along the lines of WoW professions, Katamari Damacy, etc.), but that a game which encourages a deeper emotional investment of its players may be capable of a much broader spectrum. So too would having permanence in the design. As well as encouraging a player to become more emotionally involved in the game (something we now seem to be getting the hang of, as games linger about this uncanny valley with expanded storylines and so on), the idea of choices having permanent consequence would seem to a good bet for our allowing games to express ethics. Sure, I can unlock the ‘bad ending’ by killing this NPC, but what impact does my choice really have when, at the click of a few buttons, I can reload an earlier save point and let him live? There was a phrase which Heir used when describing the combination of game mechanics and emotional investment – “ludonarrative discourse”. I plan to look into this in greater detail later.

Citing a fascinating example in Star Wars, he remarked that if gameplay mechanics made it much harder for a neutral player to become Jedi than turn to the dark side, deep questions could be asked of its plot and narrative, as well as of the mechanical choices the player would be expected to make. This pure narrative is what grants the medium its best chance of ethical choice, and actually gives us an exciting view of the grey areas in that world, instead of focusing on pure black and white, Jedi vs. Sith, good vs. evil fare.

An intriguing new angle was taken in a presentation which followed Manveer Heir’s, entitled Following Basic Directions in the Land of Destructible Delights. In this talk, based on a study which was also presented at last year’s GLS conference, we were introduced to research on user interaction, or more specifically reaction to games like Grand Theft Auto III. Using experiments as simple as asking players to drive from one town to the next, or put out fires using anonymous versions of GTA, the study was finding that bluntly, “given a frustrating task, players are more likely to go nuts”. Once the goal of driving to the next town was achieved, or the player realised the futility of trying to successfuly save lives rather than crushing them under the fire engine’s wheels, they took little more than a minute to go off the rails and mow pedestrians down en masse. The conclusion these researchers came to was that ethics were being informed by the players’ specific investment in the game. Were they told a tale of deaths by arson or given a chaacter story arc to wrap around their journey around San Andreas, might they have been less willing go leap ‘off the rails’? This strikes me as a powerful but subtle means of guiding the gameplay.

Erin Hoffman’s presentation, on why Happiness is Mandatory in worlds such as GoPets, dealt more with emerging ethics surrounding an online community. She started first by defining two key terms – “online world” as a far better description of virtual worlds, and “ethics” as mutual social contracts. She basically outlined how the GoPets community was spawning fascinating new phenomena, such as in the way a negligent pet owner would be lynched by the forum members. Although it was in later presentations that we would be given a more detailed view of such emergent justice systems and cultures, hers made for a good introduction. Key to these phenomena was what she called “incentivised gameplay”. As a result of these rewards for certain social actions within the game (even if it has no relevance to actual progress), she found that players were becoming more highly-strung. Think of those GoPets owners who punish lax owners, or the ‘min/max’ players in World of Warcraft who will happily call out a warrior for using the ‘wrong’ item for their talent specification.

Finally, there was one big point from this presentation which really got me to thinking about emergent social behaviour. It was a citation from Erin Hoffman during the Q&A segment, of work by Bill Foulton into this field. He appears to be suggesting that massively multiplayer online games are, in fact, not ready yet for the ‘massively social’ aspect of their genre. His work appeas to pin such an allegation on the fact that players and users are meeting far too many different people for too short amounts of time. The bustling hordes in Orgrimmar and the influx of shoppers at ETD in Second Life are breeding anonymity, which I would suggest could only be remedied in neighbourhoods, or other enclosed social environments like schools and offices.

There are some questions which were left unanswered, and I wonder if I might try to encourage some discussion here, if anyone’s interested. First of all, in response to Manveer Heir’s presentation and in ignorance of technical restraints here, will games even sell if we know certain actions will last indelibly, or will that change actually encourage more sales? I think that may really be the only obstacle to this movement which, I’m sure, can only help to mature the medium. My second question is, should designers take more or less responsibility for those communities which branch from their products? Blizzard Entertainment was one example give during the post-presentations discussion, with recent news suggesting some ignorance of certain ‘hate’ guilds, but a form hand played when a player was found to be using a bugged, God-mode weapon.

It’s Fun to Learn and Play

April 9, 2009 in Uncategorized

A brief review of James Paul Gee’s essayed argument for good video game learning, and how it draws us in.

I have recently been reading some of the work James Paul Gee has written, on children’s education through video game media; I started with Children’s Learning in a Digital World (2008). In his contributed article, Good Videogames, the Human Mind and Good Learning (2005?), Gee writes a startling discussion aon why it is video games can and do teach us, as well as offering us insight into why they’re so addictive.

In framing his argument, Gee describes certain games as being “action and goal-oriented”, citing examples such as Half-Life 2, Full Spectrum Warrior and World of Warcraft. He offers an enticing description of the way these games will teach us the skills and knowledge (game logic) necessary to complete actions within the game, then offer us goals to put those skills towards. As we, the players, accumulate more knowledge within these simulated realities, we grow keener to put these into practise. We find goals, such as an item to craft in WoW. We then ready our skillsets and work towards those goals, learning a little bit about the world as we do. When the goal is seized, we’re both empowered and satisfied by the journey, and the game continues.

I’ve summarised heavily there, but his original article is far more worthwhile the read anyway. What I took from it was a broad confirmation of what so far I’ve only really suspected, and what I’d not found the appropriate language to convey. I also came to realise two conclusions unique to myself – one is that this is why I’m so enthralled by games like World of Warcraft, which manage to layer lots of models of this mechanic into their framework. The other is that this is at the heart of my excitement about academia.

My reading of this article was proof of his argument in itself – a bit blinding, perhaps, for a field which treasures peer review and critique from all angles. Still, I’m finding that learning in itself allows me to gather knowledge, set goals and strive to achieve them, even if I’ve yet to see that put into real practise, such as for a degree paper. Such a conclusion is a distraction from this blog’s key message, but I felt I wanted to share it regardless. I have just found a name to put to my curious new pastime, after all.

Research Day at the School of Computing and Engineering

March 26, 2009 in Uncategorized

A brief look back upon the University of Huddersfield school of Computing and Engineering laid on for its prospecting postgraduates.

On Monday, my university began its two-week program of research events,which may be tracked on Twitter this year. A general conference is to be held this Saturday, outlining research strategies across the campus, but today was my school’s individual showcase day. Those who know me know that I’m looking upon postgraduate study with serious intent, and so I jumped at the chance to see what my lecturers and those already in postgrad. study are up to.

One of my biggest concerns was finding a programme which would allow me chance to further explore online gaming and social environment design, by looking more closely at the tricks and techniques put into drawing certain experiences out from their users. Thanks to Dr. Martyn Prigmore, I actually found this. His talk, entitled Engaging Users with Multimedia, set out research which is currently being undertaken into cognitive load, and how virtual worlds and other digital media are feeding into our ‘working memory’.

The way we communicate via internet media has become second nature to us, in much the same way as the acquisition of language might, however I do confess a certain interest in writing for this sort of outreach to a user. I believe that game logic falls into this category – the teaching of common rulesets within a game which allow a player to explore without being consciously aware of rules such as reincarnation and the effective use of fire spells upon a snow-dwelling enemy. My dissertation is currently exploring that phenomenon, in an attempt to use game logic teaching methods to teach users about a non-gaming environment.

An amusing lecture, also from the department of informatics, was delivered by Games Programming lecturer Dr. Zhijie Xu, in which he walked us through some practical use of 3D pattern recognition technology. It didn’t appear particularly relevant to my interests, although the same hardware is apparently being put to use in augmented reality experiments within the department. Still, he told an amusing story about photographs depicting the supposed appearance of a rare Chinese pygmy tiger in Shaanxi province. Doubts about their authenticity led to the usual scans for digital doctoring, however researchers also turned to creating a 3D model of the scene, comprised from the 71 photos its finder took. This was to see if objects within the scene were of a reasonable enough scale. It actually emerged that the 3D model could only generate a flat image of the tiger, at a maximum of 10cm thick with margin for error. Why? The spotter had photographed a carboard cutout.

As I heard from another lecturer, Graham Watts (also my dissertation supervisor), this technology is being put to use in barcode recognition and 3D viewers. Laptops, configured with webcam-enabled software can be used to simulate a 3D environment upon a given surface, almost like viewing a hologram with the laptop monitor as the medium. This has already been seen on The Eye of Judgement, of course, and although many applications I’ve seen since appear to be utterly useless, I still hold some hope that such augmentation can be good to real and good use with interactions in future.

Amusingly, he mused that this might even be a fun tool at gaming conventions. Imagine if your attendance badge carried a barcode on it, and all attendees sent details of their 3D avatar on to the organisers before they arrived. With the right viewer, complete strangers in the physical world could be reunited with virtual friends, in their own virtual skin too. Could there possibly be a better way for geeks to spot each other? Frankly, I’d be happy just to see this put to use in rendering somebody’s name atop their heads, Second Life style. That’d make networking a real walk in the park.

In a nice segue, this brings me to the final lecture I attended, from Dr. John Bonner. Called Technology and Happiness, his was a discussion of how happiness can be factored into design, and why we should avoid superfluous dead-enders such as weather reports from refridgerators or marginal upgrades to iPhones. I feel that there’s less grounds for research here, because of course there have bee centuries of study into what human happiness is. Applying technology to our models of satisfaction is a relatively simple affair. Still, it makes for a fascinating debate, and it is something I feel I wish to keep tabs on in my own work. Heaven forbid I bow to hypocrisy and some day create an app. just to remind people that they need to breathe.

Making Sense of Virtual Worlds

November 15, 2008 in Uncategorized

I spent a good while trying to work out a starting point for this article. Though a rant boils within me, I cannot seem to pin it down, and so I’ll rely merely on the blunt and persistent ‘high concept’ – that I think much of what is written about virtual worlds is wrong.

It’s a tricky sentence to justify, and I’ll say this now: I doubt I’ll manage it. Just what is “wrong” about these texts? My opinion stems from one of my biggest pet peeves, which is that I cannot stand people referring to Second Life as a game. By association, writers then approach it and other virtual worlds from the same angle as a World of Warcraft, or an Eve Online. By doing so, they can lean on scant but nevertheless weighty academia, on the roles of players and interactive technology. Quite apart from the fact I shudder at Second Life newbs who see such comparison and then ask what their goal is in being there, I also find it very hard to internalise any sort of critical writing when this forms its basis.

There are similarities, of course; most gamers and Second Life puppeteers enjoy escapism, and have that as their reason for spending time with their chosen software. Many Second Life avatars are also put to use inside game environments, be that in role-plays or amongst the many puzzles and combat games developed on the Grid. The majority of users, however, use Second Life largely as it was intended. They shop, they socialise and now they blog about their lives, to an extent which lies well outside original expectations. Sometimes that second lifestyle is a role-play in itself, but when that is the case, the game is then a product of the user’s imagination rather than Linden Lab’s virtual world. The world has far more in common with a Lego playset or an internet forum rather than an MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role-playing game).

It is this openness of content and experiences which many texts seem to disregard when comparing Second Life to MMORPGs in such a way. In no way can a World of Warcraft rogue ever propegate a second life, building and socialising to their own design. By comparison, a Second Life avatar can never ‘level up’ or complete a mission unless it is a task they set themselves, such as learning how to texture a ‘prim’ (a polygonal building block within SL‘s toolset). With that in mind, how can a user’s goals possibly compare between these two genres of software? For the sake of fairness, I should say that Second Life‘s distance from MMOs is also shared by Habbo Hotel, IMVU and its other competitors. They too are merely social platforms, set apart from Linden Lab’s world only for their relative lack of bulding tools.

The upshot of all this is that I fail to digest any relevance from the texts I read. Second Life may owe its past to MUDs (multiple user dungeons) and other online games technologies, but only in the manner in which users may connect. I find it unfortunate (as well as a little distressing for my own hang-ups), because it feels like academia on the subject may actually be hindered by this thinking. Just as games writing has just managed to grow past texts on socially stunted children into something meaningful, so too do I feel that virtual worlds should be seen as a medium unto themselves, or at least as relatives to the wider internet rather than to games. I’d hope then that users and academics alike might see better use for these platforms, as well as recognising how much influence they have on people, rather than reying on the stigma of “it’s just a game”.

It’s really not.