I think, therefore I game: The philosophy of video games

I suppose I have to wonder, what exactly makes video games so incredibly special that people feel the need to categorize them as this entirely separate phenomenon? At the end of the day, a video game is still just a game, and I really think that, fundamentally speaking, there isn't much that sets it apart from a classic board game, a game of baseball, or even just something simple like jump rope.

Play actually predates culture itself, because while culture is a bit difficult to define precisely, it always assumes the existence of a human society, and animals certainly didn't need humans to show them how to play.

The drive for playful competition is such a deep-seated social impulse that it’s likely older than civilization, spreading through all aspects of life like a constant, living energy. Rituals emerged from sacred play; poetry was essentially born from play and continued to be fed by it; even music and dance were nothing more than pure play....So, I guess we might have to conclude that in its very first stages, civilization is essentially played. It doesn't just emerge from play... rather, it arises within play and stays connected to it forever.

steelridge58 said:

I guess I’m just sitting here staring at this puzzle, wondering if I’ve finally lost my marbles or if there’s actually some profound meaning behind how much time I spend trying to fit these tiny cardboard pieces together. It feels like one of those endless existential loops where you think you've found the perfect match, only to realize you've been looking at it upside down the whole time—kind of like how we struggle to grasp the true essence of Being in our daily lives. Honestly, it’s probably just me being overly dramatic, but there’s something strangely humbling about being completely defeated by a picture of a landscape. steelridge58 says:
I basically grew up inside computer games. Honestly, I don’t really bother with TV and I’m not much of a music person either; instead, I just spend most of my time immersed in virtual worlds, so I am genuinely curious to hear what everyone here thinks about this whole topic.

Here’s a quick little post I put together from a different thread, just for those of you who aren't really into video games:
I honestly can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by how much weight we put on these heavy philosophical ideas, because sometimes I think we get so caught up in the deep existential dread that we forget how much our everyday surroundings actually shape who we are. It’s funny, really—I was walking through the local shopping mall the other day, just minding my own business, when I started thinking about Heidegger's whole concept of Being and how easily we just drift through life without ever truly being "present" in our own skin. It’s easy to get lost in the noise of everything around us, isn't it? I mean, I know I certainly do, and I often find myself overthinking things until I'm just spinning my wheels, which is probably why I tend to ramble like this, but there's something so profoundly human about that struggle to just *exist* without feeling like you're performing for some invisible audience. I guess what I'm trying to say is that maybe we shouldn't take ourselves quite so seriously all the time, even when we're grappling with the big questions.

I still have that one post stuck in my head, and I’m really hoping we can actually dive into some of those questions you brought up right here in this thread.

Technology just keeps pushing the envelope, doesn't it? Now we’re seeing gaming migrate entirely into true virtual reality through these specialized headsets, which brings up this fascinatingly deep philosophical concept known as "presence." It’s essentially that specific threshold where a player becomes so completely submerged in an artificial environment that they start losing the ability to distinguish it from the actual world around them.

I’m guessing—or maybe it just strikes me that way—that this whole philosophical concept regarding (virtual) presence, this idea of "being there," really mirrors Heidegger's notion of presence as a kind of fundamental dwelling or being-in-the-world.
It’s that strange, beautiful paradox of truly experiencing life—that deep sense of immersion where you're fully present in the moment, yet somehow simultaneously stepping outside of yourself through what we call ex-sistence, all while finding your footing in relation to everyone else around you.
I’ve been thinking about how presence acts as this constant variable—something that stays ever-present yet remains entirely subject to how we choose to interpret our own ex-sistence.
Just being here.
Existing in this virtual world.

When you start talking about levels of immersion—kind of like how we describe being "submerged" in a book through those deep intertextual connections, or how video games use all these interactive tricks to pull you into a virtual world—it makes me wonder if we could apply that same logic to analytical distance. I mean, can we actually talk about varying degrees of analytical distance between a player and the game itself, and if so, just how much of that distance is always hanging around there, even when we feel totally lost in the experience?

I was just reading something online that really stuck with me, mostly because of how deeply it ties back into certain philosophical theories, and I honestly think it’s pretty fascinating that if you look at it from a technical standpoint, every single virtual world essentially acts as a silent materialization of what we’d call an idealistic perspective—or even a more radical version of idealism, for that matter.
I’ve been spending way too much time lately spiraling down the rabbit hole of subjective idealism, and honestly, it’s a bit exhausting how much it makes me question everything I think I see right in front of me. There’s this overwhelming, almost dizzying feeling that comes with the idea that reality doesn't actually exist as some solid, independent thing out there, but is instead just a collection of perceptions living entirely inside our own minds. It’s a heavy concept to carry around when you're just trying to go about your day, because if everything—the coffee in my hand, the streetlights in Chicago, even the people passing by—is just a projection of my own consciousness, then the very idea of an objective world starts to feel like a beautiful, fragile illusion. I find myself wondering if we ever truly touch anything at all, or if we're all just trapped in these solitary bubbles of perception, forever reaching for a reality that might not even be there once we stop looking..

Yeah, exactly. We’re talking about entirely different ways to mediate thought and reasoning, specifically looking at how we might leverage virtual worlds alongside traditional text within a philosophical framework—basically, finding a way to fuse deep philosophical discourse with this kind of immersive, philosophical play happening right inside a digital environment.

A person annihilates themselves when they realize they have miscalculated and abused their own free will. Under such circumstances, self-annihilation—particularly from the perspective of the soul or eternity—becomes the only valid and moral choice.
By soul, I am referring to that part of a human being that transcends the self, that seeks eternity, or in psychological terms, seeks stability—as the only legitimate framework for exercising one's freedom.
The freer a person becomes, the greater their need for space, or rather, for the widest possible frameworks they can imagine (so that "the sky is the limit" 😉).

if philosophy claims to have something to say about labor, the worker, exploitation, capitalism, or socialism, how could it not have something to say about the human being, always respecting their ontological dignity (yet another philosophical concept I used in a previous post that some people failed to grasp)?

Ontological dignity—would that simply mean dignity in and of itself?
It is deeply woven into everything you just listed. In fact, it is precisely out of that dignity that a person engages with "labor, the worker, exploitation, and so on."

A person annihilates themselves when they realize they have miscalculated and abused their own free will. Under such circumstances, self-annihilation—particularly from the perspective of the soul or eternity—becomes the only valid and moral choice.
By soul, I am referring to that part of a human being that transcends the self, that seeks eternity, or in psychological terms, seeks stability—as the only legitimate framework for exercising one's freedom.
The freer a person becomes, the greater their need for space, or rather, for the widest possible frameworks they can imagine (so that "the sky is the limit" 😉).

if philosophy claims to have something to say about labor, the worker, exploitation, capitalism, or socialism, how could it not have something to say about the human being, always respecting their ontological dignity (yet another philosophical concept I used in a previous post that some people failed to grasp)?

Ontological dignity—would that simply mean dignity in and of itself?
It is deeply woven into everything you just listed. In fact, it is precisely out of that dignity that a person engages with "labor, the worker, exploitation, and so on."
I’d love to build on that by tossing out a few questions that feel pretty open-ended to me, and they actually touch on some studies I happened to come across while digging into this topic.

Are our physical and virtual identities actually separate entities, or are they just different ways of expressing what we call Being?
Is humanity’s future inevitably going to be forced into a binary choice between fiction and reality?
Could highly advanced virtual reality technology actually serve as an answer to the crisis of humanism? (The philosopher S. Gualeni, whom I mentioned earlier, argues that we should view virtual worlds as a context where a new kind of humanism has already begun to emerge).
Which identity is the "real" one—the physical one, rooted in our bodies, our reason, our tangible existence, and our constant process of "becoming," or the one built on virtuality, fictionalization, simulation, and a sort of quiet 😉 "unbecoming"?
And what exactly is it that makes an identity "real"—that thing we so often put in quotation marks when we talk about a "true" identity
—is it its materiality and tangibility, or is it that internal web of feelings, experiences, and thoughts?

Personally, I don't think we should be looking at this as an either-or situation.
I think it's more of a unified thing, or
well, whatever you want to call it.
🙂
I’d love to build on that by tossing out a few questions that feel pretty open-ended to me, and they actually touch on some studies I happened to come across while digging into this topic.

Are our physical and virtual identities actually separate entities, or are they just different ways of expressing what we call Being?
Is humanity’s future inevitably going to be forced into a binary choice between fiction and reality?
Could highly advanced virtual reality technology actually serve as an answer to the crisis of humanism? (The philosopher S. Gualeni, whom I mentioned earlier, argues that we should view virtual worlds as a context where a new kind of humanism has already begun to emerge).
Which identity is the "real" one—the physical one, rooted in our bodies, our reason, our tangible existence, and our constant process of "becoming," or the one built on virtuality, fictionalization, simulation, and a sort of quiet 😉 "unbecoming"?
And what exactly is it that makes an identity "real"—that thing we so often put in quotation marks when we talk about a "true" identity
—is it its materiality and tangibility, or is it that internal web of feelings, experiences, and thoughts?

Personally, I don't think we should be looking at this as an either-or situation.
I think it's more of a unified thing, or
well, whatever you want to call it.
🙂
Maybe virtual presence is just one facet of Dasein. Sony, for instance, defines it much more simply (which makes sense since they're just trying to make it mainstream). After using a VR headset a few times, you get this sensation of presence, like you've actually arrived—you've "entered The Matrix." That’s what they mean by "immersion levels." The level of immersion in a traditional game is lower than in virtual reality. That’s also the core concept for all those massive corporations in the gaming industry. They use all sorts of tech just to give the player that sense of presence.

Video games are just... magnetic, I guess. They give you this clear-cut goal in a deterministic virtual world where everything—every element, every move—is finite. Sure, some games have uncertainty, but players usually figure out the patterns pretty fast—like, they know exactly what kind of mess is waiting behind that unpredictability. Over the last decade or so, that randomness spiked because of online gaming—you're playing against actual people now, who, unlike some scripted AI, are way more erratic. Still, at the end of the day, the objective is always right there in front of you, which is why everyone's so obsessed with competing.

Real life? There are zero limits—well, we like to pretend there are, anyway. Things just happen, things you never planned for, and half the time we don't even know where our time is vanishing. There’s no final boss or endgame. The only things we really compete over are stuff like bank accounts, social standing, family, health, or how much we know—whatever. But honestly, not everyone cares about winning the same race. Though, let's be real—we all compare ourselves to others, which basically means we're all competing, whether we admit it or not. And it's hard to actually tell who's winning—except maybe with money, obviously. In games, it's easy—you just look at the score or whatever metric they use.

It kinda reminds me of that show The Wire, where the Baltimore police are trying to crack down on drug dealers. What was wild about that show was how everyone viewed the whole dynamic—cops, dealers, addicts—as just one big game. To them, it was all a game, and even when people had a chance to walk away from that lifestyle, they didn't want to—because they couldn't see any point to life outside of the game itself.

Steven Clark2 said:

I must admit, I often find myself struggling to articulate my thoughts clearly, but I feel compelled to weigh in on this. There is something deeply profound about the way we interact with digital spaces, much like how one might approach a complex philosophical problem. It isn't just about the technology itself, but the underlying structure of our engagement with it. I sometimes worry that I am overthinking these matters, yet I cannot shake the feeling that there is a significant layer of meaning beneath the surface of our virtual interactions. ruggedraven36 says:
What exactly is...🙂 It seems I have failed to uncover any mention of computer games within the 18th or 19th-century papyri and parchments, nor did I find anything regarding them in Hegel's Gospel volumes. Given my lack of success, I suppose reductionism is quite acceptable now.

The Gospel according to Hegel? I was under the impression we were discussing apocryphal texts, but frankly, it makes little difference to me. 😁

Talking about "pros and cons" is about as shallow as it gets. It isn't philosophy—any kid can list what's good and what's bad about something. That's just common sense, not deep thought.

I suspect you might have tripped up somewhere back in the 18th or perhaps even the 19th century. Anyone who actually plays video games will understand exactly what I mean.

I find myself returning to this particular subject quite often, though I admit my attempts to articulate it clearly are frequently met with a certain degree of clumsy inadequacy on my part. It is a topic that demands a level of rigor I sometimes struggle to maintain, yet the importance of the inquiry remains undeniable. ruggedraven36 says:
That is a solid list. 👍

I feel I should perhaps add a point of discussion that frequently surfaces—one that touches upon several items on your list. It is a topic often brought up by Wand1, though he doesn't contribute to these threads quite as often as I would like. I am referring to the so-called...I find myself returning, quite frequently, to the complexities of gamma theory. It is a subject that demands a certain level of intellectual rigor, one that I often feel I struggle to meet, yet I cannot seem to pull myself away from its intricacies. There is something profoundly captivating about how strategic interaction shapes our reality."

I honestly have to wonder how you managed to stumble upon that. Just how much experience do you actually have in this field? To my mind, gamma theory is such an incredibly complex subject that it probably deserves its own dedicated thread entirely. Looking at the article you cited, I found it quite interesting that they even included a specific subheading for it. Philosophy...which was, quite frankly, what piqued my interest most of all.

I’m thinking we should start a group reading session together.
I’m thinking we should throw in some actual gameplay, maybe some specific scenarios or even just random associations and examples—basically anything we can mash together to see what sticks.
I’ve been sitting here thinking about this lately, and honestly, I feel like I might be overcomplicating things, but there is just something so deeply unsettling about how we approach these heavy philosophical questions without any real sense of direction. It feels like we're all just wandering through this massive, intellectual fog, trying to make sense of existence while tripping over our own feet, and I can't help but wonder if we're even asking the right questions to begin with. You know that feeling when you're staring at a problem that seems simple on the surface, but the more you dig, the more you realize the entire foundation is built on sand? That's exactly where I find myself right now. I keep going back to these core ideas, trying to find some sort of anchor, but everything feels so fleeting and subjective, which is frankly a little exhausting if I'm being completely honest with myself. I suppose I'm just looking for some kind of clarity in the chaos, even if I end up just circling the same old doubts. 🙂

Man, what an absolutely fantastic topic we've got on the table here. 👍

Technically speaking, sure, video games are run through some kind of software, but honestly, that’s such a massive oversimplification if you really stop to think about it. If you ask certain people, they’d probably argue that a computer game actually falls under the category of... I’ve been spending way too much time lately thinking about digital art and where the hell we actually stand with it all. It feels like every single day there's some massive shift happening, whether it's a new tool hitting the market or a heated debate about what even counts as "real" creativity in an age where you can just prompt an image into existence. I honestly find myself oscillating between being completely mesmerized by the sheer technical possibility of it—like, how incredible is it that someone sitting in a studio in Seattle can manipulate light and texture with such precision—and feeling this deep, slightly embarrassing sense of dread that maybe we're losing that raw, tactile connection to the craft. It’s a weird, messy intersection of high-tech innovation and old-school soul, and I guess I'm just trying to figure out if we're witnessing the evolution of expression or just the beginning of a very shiny, very hollow era.Digital art really just boils down to whatever we can squeeze out of computer-based coding or that constant cycle of electronic storage and information processing—we’re talking about everything from raw text and numbers to images and sounds, all distilled down into binary code.

Sure, there’s definitely a dark side to video games—and honestly, we could go on about that for ages—but it feels like there's some genuine value tucked away in them too. It’s the same story with anything else, really; online forums can be toxic, scrolling through the news can mess with your head, and even following sports has its downsides. There are pitfalls everywhere if you look for them.

It’s actually pretty interesting to chew on these ideas before we dive even deeper into the weeds:

I mean, at the end of the day, video games are just part of electronic media, which is a field that philosophy spends a massive amount of time dissecting.
That’s a fantastic contribution, and you've raised some great questions. 👍

Beyond just covering those specific topics, I think the real challenge—and also the most exciting part—of media philosophy is how it differs from older philosophical traditions; it offers these incredible opportunities to mediate philosophical thought, especially since its scope reaches far beyond just the realm of linguistics.

Anyway, I'll catch you on the next one.
🙂
I mean, at the end of the day, video games are just part of electronic media, which is a field that philosophy spends a massive amount of time dissecting.

That’s a fantastic contribution, and you've raised some great questions. 👍

Beyond just covering those specific topics, I think the real challenge—and also the most exciting part—of media philosophy is how it differs from older philosophical traditions; it offers these incredible opportunities to mediate philosophical thought, especially since its scope reaches far beyond just the realm of linguistics.

Anyway, I'll catch you on the next one.
🙂
I am always in favor of receiving thoughtful and practical suggestions, though I must admit I am somewhat hesitant to simply pick up a book and start reading without further hesitation. 😁

I’m thinking we should start a group reading session together.
I’m thinking we should throw in some actual gameplay, maybe some specific scenarios or even just random associations and examples—basically anything we can mash together to see what sticks.
I’ve been sitting here thinking about this lately, and honestly, I feel like I might be overcomplicating things, but there is just something so deeply unsettling about how we approach these heavy philosophical questions without any real sense of direction. It feels like we're all just wandering through this massive, intellectual fog, trying to make sense of existence while tripping over our own feet, and I can't help but wonder if we're even asking the right questions to begin with. You know that feeling when you're staring at a problem that seems simple on the surface, but the more you dig, the more you realize the entire foundation is built on sand? That's exactly where I find myself right now. I keep going back to these core ideas, trying to find some sort of anchor, but everything feels so fleeting and subjective, which is frankly a little exhausting if I'm being completely honest with myself. I suppose I'm just looking for some kind of clarity in the chaos, even if I end up just circling the same old doubts. 🙂

Man, what an absolutely fantastic topic we've got on the table here. 👍

Technically speaking, sure, video games are run through some kind of software, but honestly, that’s such a massive oversimplification if you really stop to think about it. If you ask certain people, they’d probably argue that a computer game actually falls under the category of... I’ve been spending way too much time lately thinking about digital art and where the hell we actually stand with it all. It feels like every single day there's some massive shift happening, whether it's a new tool hitting the market or a heated debate about what even counts as "real" creativity in an age where you can just prompt an image into existence. I honestly find myself oscillating between being completely mesmerized by the sheer technical possibility of it—like, how incredible is it that someone sitting in a studio in Seattle can manipulate light and texture with such precision—and feeling this deep, slightly embarrassing sense of dread that maybe we're losing that raw, tactile connection to the craft. It’s a weird, messy intersection of high-tech innovation and old-school soul, and I guess I'm just trying to figure out if we're witnessing the evolution of expression or just the beginning of a very shiny, very hollow era.Digital art really just boils down to whatever we can squeeze out of computer-based coding or that constant cycle of electronic storage and information processing—we’re talking about everything from raw text and numbers to images and sounds, all distilled down into binary code.

Sure, there’s definitely a dark side to video games—and honestly, we could go on about that for ages—but it feels like there's some genuine value tucked away in them too. It’s the same story with anything else, really; online forums can be toxic, scrolling through the news can mess with your head, and even following sports has its downsides. There are pitfalls everywhere if you look for them.

It’s actually pretty interesting to chew on these ideas before we dive even deeper into the weeds:

I mean, at the end of the day, video games are just part of electronic media, which is a field that philosophy spends a massive amount of time dissecting.
That’s a fantastic contribution, and you've raised some great questions. 👍

Beyond just covering those specific topics, I think the real challenge—and also the most exciting part—of media philosophy is how it differs from older philosophical traditions; it offers these incredible opportunities to mediate philosophical thought, especially since its scope reaches far beyond just the realm of linguistics.

Anyway, I'll catch you on the next one.
🙂
I mean, at the end of the day, video games are just part of electronic media, which is a field that philosophy spends a massive amount of time dissecting.

That’s a fantastic contribution, and you've raised some great questions. 👍

Beyond just covering those specific topics, I think the real challenge—and also the most exciting part—of media philosophy is how it differs from older philosophical traditions; it offers these incredible opportunities to mediate philosophical thought, especially since its scope reaches far beyond just the realm of linguistics.

Anyway, I'll catch you on the next one.
🙂
Are you suggesting we are talking about Media Philosophy? 😁 From the Preface of the Book Virtual Worlds as Philosophical Tools: How to Philosophize with a Digital Hammer (2015):

Do you agree that we should add a prefix to the topic title? I was thinking of something along the lines of "I think, therefore I game — the philosophy of computer games," or perhaps something similar to that. I am honestly not entirely sure if such a change fits with the overall concept of the thread as you envisioned it.

Please stay on topic. If you stick to the actual subject at hand, I am certain a few other members here will step in to correct you. This discussion isn't merely about those cheap mobile game apps that cost a couple of dollars and are downloaded by hundreds of millions of people in China. Stefano Gualeni He is a game designer and a professional philosopher at the same time—a forty-two-year-old man. In fact, he is the very same individual mentioned in the introductory comment of this thread and in the article itself. Self-reflexive video games: some observations and corollaries regarding virtual worlds as philosophical artifacts.There is an overwhelming amount of literature available on this subject. However, the real question we have to confront is one of engagement: how much does this actually matter to us? Do we truly have the bandwidth, the interest, or even the time to follow these developments closely? It is one thing to have the resources at our fingertips, but quite another to find the genuine inclination to pursue them.
I am always in favor of receiving thoughtful and practical suggestions, though I must admit I am somewhat hesitant to simply pick up a book and start reading without further hesitation. 😁

I mean, at the end of the day, video games are just part of electronic media, which is a field that philosophy spends a massive amount of time dissecting.

That’s a fantastic contribution, and you've raised some great questions. 👍

Beyond just covering those specific topics, I think the real challenge—and also the most exciting part—of media philosophy is how it differs from older philosophical traditions; it offers these incredible opportunities to mediate philosophical thought, especially since its scope reaches far beyond just the realm of linguistics.

Anyway, I'll catch you on the next one.
🙂
Are you suggesting we are talking about Media Philosophy? 😁 From the Preface of the Book Virtual Worlds as Philosophical Tools: How to Philosophize with a Digital Hammer (2015):

Do you agree that we should add a prefix to the topic title? I was thinking of something along the lines of "I think, therefore I game — the philosophy of computer games," or perhaps something similar to that. I am honestly not entirely sure if such a change fits with the overall concept of the thread as you envisioned it.

Please stay on topic. If you stick to the actual subject at hand, I am certain a few other members here will step in to correct you. This discussion isn't merely about those cheap mobile game apps that cost a couple of dollars and are downloaded by hundreds of millions of people in China. Stefano Gualeni He is a game designer and a professional philosopher at the same time—a forty-two-year-old man. In fact, he is the very same individual mentioned in the introductory comment of this thread and in the article itself. Self-reflexive video games: some observations and corollaries regarding virtual worlds as philosophical artifacts.There is an overwhelming amount of literature available on this subject. However, the real question we have to confront is one of engagement: how much does this actually matter to us? Do we truly have the bandwidth, the interest, or even the time to follow these developments closely? It is one thing to have the resources at our fingertips, but quite another to find the genuine inclination to pursue them.
Do you agree that we should add a prefix to the topic title? I was thinking of something along the lines of "I think, therefore I game — the philosophy of computer games," or perhaps something similar to that. I am honestly not entirely sure if such a change fits with the overall concept of the thread as you envisioned it.

Please stay on topic. If you stick to the actual subject at hand, I am certain a few other members here will step in to correct you. This discussion isn't merely about those cheap mobile game apps that cost a couple of dollars and are downloaded by hundreds of millions of people in China. Stefano Gualeni He is a game designer and a professional philosopher at the same time—a forty-two-year-old man. In fact, he is the very same individual mentioned in the introductory comment of this thread and in the article itself. Self-reflexive video games: some observations and corollaries regarding virtual worlds as philosophical artifacts.There is an overwhelming amount of literature available on this subject. However, the real question we have to confront is one of engagement: how much does this actually matter to us? Do we truly have the bandwidth, the interest, or even the time to follow these developments closely? It is one thing to have the resources at our fingertips, but quite another to find the genuine inclination to pursue them.
Look, I don't really claim to be an expert in this field or anything. Nothing I’m laying out here is some polished product of a formal "academic approach" or a rigorous scholarly study.

To be honest, game theory is one of those logical frameworks that just kind of materialized in my own head through sheer contemplation, long before I even realized there was an actual name for it. It wasn't like I sat down with a textbook to study the mechanics; it was more like these patterns started surfacing naturally during my own deep dives into how people interact and make decisions. It’s funny how the mind works—you start connecting the dots and building these internal models of strategy and consequence, only to find out later that scholars have been documenting the exact same logic under a specific label.

This person has popped up here a handful of times, usually just to break down how evolution works—though if you ask me, that’s where you can really see their specific way of conceptualizing things, which probably carries over into economics too.

I’m sitting here trying to recall some of those old explanations regarding ethics that Dawkins used to toss around—you know, how he’d simplify everything by running these computer simulations. I think it involved some kind of model with birds or some other creatures interacting, where they'd perform little tasks like grooming one another, and he eventually wrapped it all up by concluding that a "tit-for-tat" strategy was the absolute most optimal way to play the game.

I honestly can't find the time to sit down and write much lately. Between the kids constantly running around the house and the chaos at home, there's barely a moment of peace. I try to steal a few minutes here and there while I'm waiting on something at work, but between that and everything else, my free time is basically non-existent.

I wanted to weigh in briefly on this whole obsession with "virtual worlds." Honestly, I think people lean way too hard on that word "virtual," and frankly, it’s pretty misleading. A virtual world where you’re just wandering around without a single other soul to interact with isn't actually interesting to most people. Sure, you’ve got those sandbox titles where you just build stuff in your own little bubble and nothing else ever happens, but those kinds of games struggle to hold anyone's attention in the long run. For the vast majority of players, they’ll be boring right out of the gate, and even for the niche crowd that likes them, the novelty eventually wears off.

The truly fascinating thing about virtual worlds isn't the graphics or the mechanics, but that sense of genuine reality—and honestly, that only happens because there are other people actually there. That feeling of presence is something you derive from others; it’s an external spark. If you really think about it, the most authentic reality we ever experience is what’s happening inside our own heads—and, if I recall correctly, someone else mentioned this before—is what's swirling around in everyone else's minds, too.

Think about a virtual sandbox world where you’re essentially all alone—something like Minecraft. You can spend hours building this massive, sprawling metropolis, piece by piece, almost like you're playing with a giant set of Legos. But at the end of the day, that entire city is just a digital illusion; it’s completely hollow. Its only legitimate connection to the actual, physical world is the fact that the blueprints and the ideas behind it originated within your own mind. That's it. Everything else is just code.

In a virtual landscape where you’re actually interacting with other people, you might find yourself building something much more substantial than just a digital sandbox. You could potentially construct a city that feels far more "real" than anything you've encountered before. And why is that? It's because there’s this constant, looming possibility that another player—a real human being with their own agenda—could come along and tear your entire creation down. At that point, your city isn't just some fleeting idea floating around in your own head; its very existence becomes the hard-won result of a genuine struggle between two actual people. It carries a weight of reality that wasn't there before, which naturally creates a much more profound impact on the psyche. Think about it: the person who manages to build that city and successfully defend it against someone else's attempt to demolish it is going to experience a completely different neurological reward than someone playing a solitary game where nobody can touch them. Because there are stakes and real social friction involved, the effect on your actual, physical brain is deeper. It feels more real because the consequences are driven by human will, not just lines of code.

The line separating the digital realm from our physical reality isn't nearly as sharp as most people want to believe. It probably strikes some folks as bizarre that an item in a video game—say, a rare digital cat skin—could carry actual, tangible value in terms of US dollars. But when you really sit down and think about it, what is that "real" money besides a collective digital agreement? If we’ve all collectively decided that certain slips of paper or digits on a Chase Bank screen represent significant value, why shouldn't that digital cat hold the same weight? At the end of the day, a huge chunk of what we label as "reality" is really just a shared belief system, functioning almost identically to the way we accept the rules and assets within a virtual environment.

There’s one other thing I really wanted to touch on: this whole concept of "reality being insufficient." The truth is, reality just isn't enough to satisfy the appetite of the modern, hyper-stimulated individual. You can’t spend your entire life—especially during those formative childhood years—being bombarded by these curated narratives that glorify specific kinds of success. We see it everywhere, whether it's the worship of activists like Greta Thunberg or the endless cycle of superhero movies, where greatness is always the goal. And then, somehow, we’re expected to just walk away from all that feeling perfectly satisfied? It doesn't work that way. There simply isn't enough "success" to go around for everyone. Not everyone can achieve something that is fundamentally vital to society; there aren't enough categories for that, and even if there were, once everyone succeeds in the same way, that category loses its very meaning. That’s exactly why people start turning to socially insignificant pursuits to prove their worth. Humans have this deep-seated need to be seen as capable, regardless of how trivial the arena might be—whether it’s obsessing over video games or trying to be a top-tier drag racer on a quarter-mile track. This is where video games step in; they rush into that vacuum to fill the void left by our unmet need for achievement. The problem is, in the process of filling that hole, we might actually be dulling our own senses. It feels like we’ve spent so much time sharpening our knives that we’ve finally realized there isn't nearly enough meat left to cut.

TOTAL NONSENSE!

jadeheron5 said:I mean, what do you even mean by "games"? It’s not all one thing. For instance, I personally can't stand most mainstream titles—either they're way too easy and I lose interest immediately, or they're so heavily driven by narrative that it feels less like playing and more like sitting through a movie. But then, I have a real soft spot for roguelikes. You know, those games where you only get one shot at it? If you screw up, you're back at square one, even if you've already sunk three full days into a single run.
I look at them as a sort of mental workout. The whole core loop is built around avoiding stupid mistakes, and since no plan ever survives contact with reality, you're forced to learn how to actually adapt using whatever scraps or tools you happen to pick up along the way.

Beyond roguelikes, I also find myself gravitating toward card games and chess.

So, really, you can't just lump all video games into one big bucket. The genres can be worlds apart from each other.

Anyone else feel this way? 😁

I’ve been hovering around the gaming scene for years now, playing whenever the mood strikes me.
To be honest, watching the industry evolve is way more fascinating to me than actually sitting down with a controller—especially when you consider how many people still dismiss this whole thing as just "kid stuff." If they actually took it seriously, they might realize what's actually happening here.
There are these phenomenal documentaries about game development and culture that, personally, I find much more gripping than the actual games themselves.

Anyway, after years of tracking an industry that has long since outgrown any age limit, I find myself constantly chewing on its implications... so this topic is definitely welcome. Though, mind you, it's only welcome if the people joining the conversation actually know their stuff. Most of my friends still have this outdated mental image of gaming being stuck in the Pac-Man era of the early 80s.

Here’s the real issue with modern gaming.
Every single AAA title eventually boils down to the exact same loop: shoot this, shoot that, and hey—look at those flashy graphics! It feels like every new release is just a slightly more polished shooter than the one before it.
It’s honestly wild to me how we can repeat the same loop a thousand times and somehow find ourselves itching to do it all over again.
But look, games don't *have* to be this hollow.
For instance, What Remains of Edith Finch was, in my eyes, the best "book" I ever played—it's living proof that games can actually offer something meaningful.
And the Telltale Walking Dead series? That’s something I’d tell absolutely everyone needs to experience just to
feel the positive impact of gaming.
But despite all that potential, the mainstream remains obsessed with mindless, senseless killing... just endless, repetitive violence without a shred of purpose.

lonegardener said:Anyone else feel this way? 😁

I know, I've been through it a few times now. Right now, I'm spending my time with The pity and Dungeon crawl stone soup.

Then again, there are much more complex titles out there... things like Cataclysm DDA, which really leans into that deep marriage of rogue-like mechanics with hardcore survival and crafting. Or you’ve got Battle brothers, which brings a whole different level of tactical depth to the table.

I am somewhat uncertain as to what you intend for me to do with this single word. If you would like me to expand upon this concept or if there was a specific thought you intended to convey, please do let me know. I am more than happy to assist once I have a clearer understanding of your requirements. Steven Clark2 says:
I must admit, I am not particularly well-versed in this specific field. Please understand that nothing I have written here is intended to be the result of any rigorous "academic approach."

It doesn't matter; one doesn't exactly write academic papers on internet forums. Regardless, I want to thank you for the response—primarily for the time and effort you put into it. I hadn't quite processed or reflected on things with the level of depth you described. Honestly, I believe we ought to discuss these types of topics more often. I realize we are all pressed for time, yet there is something truly wonderful about examining video games through a philosophical lens. I have actually posed a few similar questions myself in the past, though I have yet to provide any answers of my own.

I find myself quite perplexed by this particular term. It feels rather heavy, doesn't it? To me, "implosive" suggests something collapsing inward under its own weight—a sudden, concentrated suction of energy that pulls everything toward a central point. While an explosion pushes outward with chaotic force, an implosion feels more calculated, yet arguably more devastating in its intensity. I wonder if we might be using it to describe a situation that is essentially folding in on itself. It is a fascinating, if somewhat unsettling, concept to contemplate. Steven Clark2 says:
The scene itself is far more captivating to me than the actual gameplay. To those who still dismiss this medium as mere "kids' games," I would sincerely suggest that you start paying a bit more serious attention.
There are certain documentaries about video games that I find to be far more compelling than the actual games themselves.

What kind of documentaries would you recommend? I am looking for some quality suggestions to dive into.

Regarding the gaming scene, I don't follow it in a strictly traditional sense. I tend to view things from a somewhat different perspective entirely, but you are likely correct—shooters remain the most prominent genre and are probably what most people are searching for.

The first game that truly made an impression on me was Tomb Raider III. Looking back, that was about twenty years ago—specifically during the summer of the early 2000s. At the time, a friend of mine from out in the countryside received a Sonny Play, a gift from his brother who was living over in Germany. Another guy from that same area had picked up a Sonny a year prior, and we spent a significant amount of time talking about the games they were playing. I remember one occasion when I visited his house; a group of guys who played regularly had all gathered together. It was an atmosphere I will never forget—it felt like a local landmark, almost like a neighborhood cinema. There was a certain unspoken code of conduct there, a sense of knowing exactly how things worked. They used to play Tomb Raider quite a bit, though they mostly stuck to the first two entries; I personally didn't dive into the third installment until later, perhaps playing a sequel a few years down the road. Even now, I can vividly recall those long corridors, the intricate puzzles, and those sudden, startling surprises. Anyone who played it will understand exactly what I mean. Fast forward to around 2001, while I was at college, my friends actually came looking for me. They had hit a wall with a specific level and, knowing I had experience with the game, they sought me out for help. As it turns out, the solution was incredibly simple. 🤦 Aside from your own experiences, I have played some Gran Turismo myself—nothing extensive, mind you, but certainly enough to get by. I’ve picked up a few other titles here and there in the interim, yet I must admit that I have never truly mastered a game quite like I did Tomb Raider III. Even so, being an avid gamer, I have listened to just about every theory and rumor regarding these titles. I remember once trying my hand at Resident Evil; I can't recall exactly which installment it was, only that it began in a very claustrophobic setting—narrow streets with no way out, where you step into a bus only to be ambushed by those zombies. 😬 You might have a few bullets left, but it’s never quite enough to stop them. I remember feeling this genuine sense of dread back then; they always seem to lure you in, strike, and then just reset the whole cycle from the beginning. After a few failed attempts, I usually find myself just giving up entirely. 😁 I have naturally watched every single film sharing that same title, some even multiple times. To be honest, I am not entirely certain how faithful they remain to the source material, but in my opinion, they are perfectly fine.

In any case, I was wondering: in what year do you think gaming will finally be officially integrated as a competitive sport at the Olympics or something along those lines? 😁

Steven Clark2 said:

I am somewhat uncertain as to what you intend for me to do with this single word. If you would like me to expand upon this concept or if there was a specific thought you intended to convey, please do let me know. I am more than happy to assist once I have a clearer understanding of your requirements. Steven Clark2 says:
I must admit, I am not particularly well-versed in this specific field. Please understand that nothing I have written here is intended to be the result of any rigorous "academic approach."

It doesn't matter; one doesn't exactly write academic papers on internet forums. Regardless, I want to thank you for the response—primarily for the time and effort you put into it. I hadn't quite processed or reflected on things with the level of depth you described. Honestly, I believe we ought to discuss these types of topics more often. I realize we are all pressed for time, yet there is something truly wonderful about examining video games through a philosophical lens. I have actually posed a few similar questions myself in the past, though I have yet to provide any answers of my own.

I find myself quite perplexed by this particular term. It feels rather heavy, doesn't it? To me, "implosive" suggests something collapsing inward under its own weight—a sudden, concentrated suction of energy that pulls everything toward a central point. While an explosion pushes outward with chaotic force, an implosion feels more calculated, yet arguably more devastating in its intensity. I wonder if we might be using it to describe a situation that is essentially folding in on itself. It is a fascinating, if somewhat unsettling, concept to contemplate. Steven Clark2 says:
The scene itself is far more captivating to me than the actual gameplay. To those who still dismiss this medium as mere "kids' games," I would sincerely suggest that you start paying a bit more serious attention.
There are certain documentaries about video games that I find to be far more compelling than the actual games themselves.

What kind of documentaries would you recommend? I am looking for some quality suggestions to dive into.

Regarding the gaming scene, I don't follow it in a strictly traditional sense. I tend to view things from a somewhat different perspective entirely, but you are likely correct—shooters remain the most prominent genre and are probably what most people are searching for.

The first game that truly made an impression on me was Tomb Raider III. Looking back, that was about twenty years ago—specifically during the summer of the early 2000s. At the time, a friend of mine from out in the countryside received a Sonny Play, a gift from his brother who was living over in Germany. Another guy from that same area had picked up a Sonny a year prior, and we spent a significant amount of time talking about the games they were playing. I remember one occasion when I visited his house; a group of guys who played regularly had all gathered together. It was an atmosphere I will never forget—it felt like a local landmark, almost like a neighborhood cinema. There was a certain unspoken code of conduct there, a sense of knowing exactly how things worked. They used to play Tomb Raider quite a bit, though they mostly stuck to the first two entries; I personally didn't dive into the third installment until later, perhaps playing a sequel a few years down the road. Even now, I can vividly recall those long corridors, the intricate puzzles, and those sudden, startling surprises. Anyone who played it will understand exactly what I mean. Fast forward to around 2001, while I was at college, my friends actually came looking for me. They had hit a wall with a specific level and, knowing I had experience with the game, they sought me out for help. As it turns out, the solution was incredibly simple. 🤦 Aside from your own experiences, I have played some Gran Turismo myself—nothing extensive, mind you, but certainly enough to get by. I’ve picked up a few other titles here and there in the interim, yet I must admit that I have never truly mastered a game quite like I did Tomb Raider III. Even so, being an avid gamer, I have listened to just about every theory and rumor regarding these titles. I remember once trying my hand at Resident Evil; I can't recall exactly which installment it was, only that it began in a very claustrophobic setting—narrow streets with no way out, where you step into a bus only to be ambushed by those zombies. 😬 You might have a few bullets left, but it’s never quite enough to stop them. I remember feeling this genuine sense of dread back then; they always seem to lure you in, strike, and then just reset the whole cycle from the beginning. After a few failed attempts, I usually find myself just giving up entirely. 😁 I have naturally watched every single film sharing that same title, some even multiple times. To be honest, I am not entirely certain how faithful they remain to the source material, but in my opinion, they are perfectly fine.

In any case, I was wondering: in what year do you think gaming will finally be officially integrated as a competitive sport at the Olympics or something along those lines? 😁

These are some of the ones that caught my eye—they might actually be interesting even if you don't follow the scene too closely. Just keep in mind that a lot of these documentaries kind of require you to have some baseline knowledge of the games to really land... otherwise, they might miss the mark.

Steven Clark2 said:

I am somewhat uncertain as to what you intend for me to do with this single word. If you would like me to expand upon this concept or if there was a specific thought you intended to convey, please do let me know. I am more than happy to assist once I have a clearer understanding of your requirements. Steven Clark2 says:
I must admit, I am not particularly well-versed in this specific field. Please understand that nothing I have written here is intended to be the result of any rigorous "academic approach."

It doesn't matter; one doesn't exactly write academic papers on internet forums. Regardless, I want to thank you for the response—primarily for the time and effort you put into it. I hadn't quite processed or reflected on things with the level of depth you described. Honestly, I believe we ought to discuss these types of topics more often. I realize we are all pressed for time, yet there is something truly wonderful about examining video games through a philosophical lens. I have actually posed a few similar questions myself in the past, though I have yet to provide any answers of my own.

I find myself quite perplexed by this particular term. It feels rather heavy, doesn't it? To me, "implosive" suggests something collapsing inward under its own weight—a sudden, concentrated suction of energy that pulls everything toward a central point. While an explosion pushes outward with chaotic force, an implosion feels more calculated, yet arguably more devastating in its intensity. I wonder if we might be using it to describe a situation that is essentially folding in on itself. It is a fascinating, if somewhat unsettling, concept to contemplate. Steven Clark2 says:
The scene itself is far more captivating to me than the actual gameplay. To those who still dismiss this medium as mere "kids' games," I would sincerely suggest that you start paying a bit more serious attention.
There are certain documentaries about video games that I find to be far more compelling than the actual games themselves.

What kind of documentaries would you recommend? I am looking for some quality suggestions to dive into.

Regarding the gaming scene, I don't follow it in a strictly traditional sense. I tend to view things from a somewhat different perspective entirely, but you are likely correct—shooters remain the most prominent genre and are probably what most people are searching for.

The first game that truly made an impression on me was Tomb Raider III. Looking back, that was about twenty years ago—specifically during the summer of the early 2000s. At the time, a friend of mine from out in the countryside received a Sonny Play, a gift from his brother who was living over in Germany. Another guy from that same area had picked up a Sonny a year prior, and we spent a significant amount of time talking about the games they were playing. I remember one occasion when I visited his house; a group of guys who played regularly had all gathered together. It was an atmosphere I will never forget—it felt like a local landmark, almost like a neighborhood cinema. There was a certain unspoken code of conduct there, a sense of knowing exactly how things worked. They used to play Tomb Raider quite a bit, though they mostly stuck to the first two entries; I personally didn't dive into the third installment until later, perhaps playing a sequel a few years down the road. Even now, I can vividly recall those long corridors, the intricate puzzles, and those sudden, startling surprises. Anyone who played it will understand exactly what I mean. Fast forward to around 2001, while I was at college, my friends actually came looking for me. They had hit a wall with a specific level and, knowing I had experience with the game, they sought me out for help. As it turns out, the solution was incredibly simple. 🤦 Aside from your own experiences, I have played some Gran Turismo myself—nothing extensive, mind you, but certainly enough to get by. I’ve picked up a few other titles here and there in the interim, yet I must admit that I have never truly mastered a game quite like I did Tomb Raider III. Even so, being an avid gamer, I have listened to just about every theory and rumor regarding these titles. I remember once trying my hand at Resident Evil; I can't recall exactly which installment it was, only that it began in a very claustrophobic setting—narrow streets with no way out, where you step into a bus only to be ambushed by those zombies. 😬 You might have a few bullets left, but it’s never quite enough to stop them. I remember feeling this genuine sense of dread back then; they always seem to lure you in, strike, and then just reset the whole cycle from the beginning. After a few failed attempts, I usually find myself just giving up entirely. 😁 I have naturally watched every single film sharing that same title, some even multiple times. To be honest, I am not entirely certain how faithful they remain to the source material, but in my opinion, they are perfectly fine.

In any case, I was wondering: in what year do you think gaming will finally be officially integrated as a competitive sport at the Olympics or something along those lines? 😁

Those first experiences usually stick with you the most. And yeah, I definitely remember the old Tomb Raider days. Looking back, I can see certain specific details that really shaped how you saw the game.
Twenty years ago, tech was basically still in its awkward teenage phase. Tomb Raider 3 came out in '98. Back then, high-speed internet in America was still a luxury for many, and getting your hands on new games was nowhere near as easy as it is today.
There are three major factors that absolutely wreck your psyche...
1. Technology hitting during puberty—it’s moving at a pace science can barely track. It feels like more incredible breakthroughs happen in a single year now than in an entire decade back in the day.
2. The accessibility factor. Nowadays, you just buy a AAA title online and download it in a few hours, depending on how fast your fiber connection is. Twenty years ago? That wasn't even an option. Not for us, anyway. When distribution is difficult, availability drops. And when something is harder to get, the price goes up—whether we're talking cold hard cash or some other kind of cost.
3. That very first encounter with a visual and auditory feast unlike anything ever experienced before (in digital form).

But things have shifted lately. Tech isn't in that massive, explosive takeoff phase anymore. Kids today get acquainted with technology—in the mechanical sense—long before they actually figure out who they are, and everything is just sitting there, available instantly.
Look, I’m not saying people don't physically hang out to mess around and play games together—that definitely happens—but it’s a safe bet that very few people actually do. Those who gather in person belong to a specific group of people who actually *want* to socialize. If you look at the statistics for online gatherings, they tell a much different story.
I wouldn't say anything if we were talking about high-quality interaction through gaming, but even the most popular titles these days are basically engineered to trigger maximum competitiveness just so they can sell you microtransactions that give you an edge over everyone else. The end result? Toxic player communities where their entire virtual existence boils down to humiliating and crushing others. And when you spend all your free time living in that reality, it’s almost impossible for it not to bleed into how you act in the real world...

https://www.pcgamer.com/microsoft-me...am-technology/

It honestly feels like we're living in some kind of simulation where reality is just turning into one giant video game.

Electronic Arts, Rockstar Games, BioWare.
EA used to have hits like Assassin's Creed II and Battlefield... now? They've pivoted to making games that are more mind-numbing than doing the dishes.
Rockstar Games—every single iteration just feels like a step backward from the last one. They go from putting massive effort into deep character relationships to offering these shallow, meaningless choices that all lead to the exact same outcome anyway.
If you actually care, do yourself a favor and Google the difference between the old school versus the new school Fallout.

And BioWare? After those legendary trilogies, they basically started churning out absolute jokes.

All of them were once legends because of their storytelling and how much the worlds felt alive... now they’re nothing more than dead names on a piece of paper.

I finally sat down and played Fallout with about a fifteen-year delay, and honestly? It still absolutely blew my mind. People love to whine about dated graphics, but in this day and age, it doesn't bother me one bit. This game is a masterpiece—it’s basically interactive literature. The sheer density of these interconnected storylines, the way the plot and scenarios branch out non-linearly, the characters, the dialogue... it’s just staggering. You could play through this thing ten different times and walk away feeling like you had a completely fresh experience every single time. If you actually want to see what high-level game design looks like at its peak, Fallout and Fallout 2 are mandatory reading. You could almost call them the "Game of Thrones" of the gaming world. It’s rare to find this much creative synergy across so many different disciplines packed into a single package; only a video game can pull off something this layered.

I’d say Star Control 2 sits right up there alongside Fallout. At least in my book.

hiddeneagle98 said:I finally sat down and played Fallout with about a fifteen-year delay, and honestly? It still absolutely blew my mind. People love to whine about dated graphics, but in this day and age, it doesn't bother me one bit. This game is a masterpiece—it’s basically interactive literature. The sheer density of these interconnected storylines, the way the plot and scenarios branch out non-linearly, the characters, the dialogue... it’s just staggering. You could play through this thing ten different times and walk away feeling like you had a completely fresh experience every single time. If you actually want to see what high-level game design looks like at its peak, Fallout and Fallout 2 are mandatory reading. You could almost call them the "Game of Thrones" of the gaming world. It’s rare to find this much creative synergy across so many different disciplines packed into a single package; only a video game can pull off something this layered.

I’d say Star Control 2 sits right up there alongside Fallout. At least in my book.

There’s actually this documentary by a hardcore fan who does a deep dive into how Microsoft evolved into its most recent iteration and essentially lost its soul along the way.
It’s pretty wild how much he praises the original Microsoft. He talks about the complexity of the relationships, the dialogue, and how unpredictable everything felt. He describes a living, breathing world filled with characters who actually remember your interactions... they have memory.
Ever since Bethesda took over the franchise, every single sequel has been a step down from the last one. The dialogue, the relationships, the consequences—it all feels increasingly hollow. Every new release just feels emptier than the one before it.
I can only imagine what a shock it was for you to jump straight into Halo.

Jacob Cooper5 said:There’s actually this documentary by a hardcore fan who does a deep dive into how Microsoft evolved into its most recent iteration and essentially lost its soul along the way.
It’s pretty wild how much he praises the original Microsoft. He talks about the complexity of the relationships, the dialogue, and how unpredictable everything felt. He describes a living, breathing world filled with characters who actually remember your interactions... they have memory.
Ever since Bethesda took over the franchise, every single sequel has been a step down from the last one. The dialogue, the relationships, the consequences—it all feels increasingly hollow. Every new release just feels emptier than the one before it.
I can only imagine what a shock it was for you to jump straight into Halo.

I haven't played it. To be honest, I haven't really touched a video game in maybe 15 years. The only exception was Star Wars, which I missed out on when I was younger, and I skipped all the subsequent entries entirely. These days, the only thing I can handle is a PlayStation or a PlayStation U. I just don't have the patience for anything too demanding anymore; occasionally I'll pick up some Super Mario Kart, Super Mario Galaxy 3D, or Donkey Kong, and I did manage to get through Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild—which was an incredible game, by the way. That’s pretty much it. And yeah, I think I spent most of my teenage years hooked on those early massive online games, Subspace and later Continuum. I haven't really gotten sucked into an online community like that since. Now, it's mostly just zombie games or single-player stories—stuff like GTA, racing games, shooters, nothing competitive. Sin City comes to mind right now; that was such a cool, artsy, smart game with that killer bullet-time mechanic. That was probably one of the last things I played on a PC. I'm not really interested in the modern era; I miss the old classics from my childhood—those Sid Meier games back when he was doing them himself, Centurion, Prince of Persia, Warlords, Star Control, Heroes of Might and Magic, Master of Orion, SimCity, Duke Nukem 3D, Descent, X-Wing, Doom, F-15, the Monkey Island series, Lost Vikings... okay, fine, I guess I played Tomb Raider 2 too, but mostly it's that stuff people call "abandonware" today. Man, I feel old. Oh, and Alien vs. Predator was a freaking masterpiece.

Ultimately, that "abandonware" era represents the peak of gaming for me. Back when games were being built by tiny teams or even just a single person working out of passion rather than chasing a massive paycheck. People weren't making fortunes off this stuff back then; it was pure creativity and genius. If I had been a little older, maybe I would have ended up in that Hall of Fame myself. Who knows, maybe I'll get back into it via mobile; I actually have a few original ideas sitting around that are developed up to the proof-of-concept stage.

Sent from my iPhone using Twitter

Kenneth Cruz67 said:I suppose I have to wonder, what exactly makes video games so incredibly special that people feel the need to categorize them as this entirely separate phenomenon? At the end of the day, a video game is still just a game, and I really think that, fundamentally speaking, there isn't much that sets it apart from a classic board game, a game of baseball, or even just something simple like jump rope.

Play actually predates culture itself, because while culture is a bit difficult to define precisely, it always assumes the existence of a human society, and animals certainly didn't need humans to show them how to play.

The drive for playful competition is such a deep-seated social impulse that it’s likely older than civilization, spreading through all aspects of life like a constant, living energy. Rituals emerged from sacred play; poetry was essentially born from play and continued to be fed by it; even music and dance were nothing more than pure play....So, I guess we might have to conclude that in its very first stages, civilization is essentially played. It doesn't just emerge from play... rather, it arises within play and stays connected to it forever.

... Because they really are a category that deserves its own spotlight in an American Philosophy department, and I’ve already touched on the fact that Game Studies actually exists as a field—which in itself proves that the medium has evolved enough to merit being studied as its own thing.
But if you're looking at the core essence, yeah, I think what you said in that quote holds true, since, well, in the beginning, they were "just games," weren't they?

The real difference between video games and something like a tabletop game or outdoor sports is that because they are digital, the world models, the roles you play, and the underlying rules can become significantly more complex.

The philosopher and game designer Ian Bogost argues that trying to define them solely through the lens of "fun" versus "seriousness"—or even trying to balance both—doesn't quite capture the full picture, and viewing them merely as tools for distraction or pure productivity is just too narrow. Instead, he suggests we should look at video games as a medium with a massive range of potential uses, stretching all the way from fine art to functional craft, covering everything in between.

So, I guess it really comes down to the sheer potential of how they can be used.

Steven Clark2 said:Homo ludens! 😁

Oh, what an absolutely wonderful topic. 👍

From a purely technical standpoint, yes, games are played via some form of software. However, that is a rather oversimplified way to look at it. Some might even argue that a computer game falls under the category of digital art. Digital art relies on computer-based digital coding or the electronic storage and processing of information in various formats: text, numbers, images, sounds—all contained within binary code.

Of course, there is a dark side to video games, which could certainly be discussed at length, but there also seems to be something profoundly useful about them. There is a downside to internet forums, reading the news, or watching sports as well. Negatives exist everywhere.

It isn't a bad idea to contemplate this, provided we take it a step further:

After all, video games are a form of media—specifically electronic media—which are fields that philosophy engages with quite deeply.
After all, video games are a form of media—specifically electronic media—which are fields that philosophy engages with quite deeply.
After all, video games are a form of media—specifically electronic media—which are fields that philosophy engages with quite deeply.

When you look at the ethical side—leaving the aesthetic stuff for the art discussion—we could potentially take those virtual game worlds and pair them with textual explanations within a philosophical framework, especially when we need to materialize a specific situation (like running through thought experiments or simulating speculative ethical scenarios), where virtual media can become phenomenologically and rhetorically useful tools for testing out different choices or facing up to questions regarding non-actual or non-human phenomenology.

The reason why video games offer such a powerful learning environment is really down to that active engagement that defines all games, specifically through things like focused attention, repetition, and constant feedback loops.
Learning also gets a huge boost from games that spark intrinsic motivation by tapping into things like fantasy, player agency, and meaningful challenges...
So, in today's incredibly complex titles, players might feel encouraged to actively explore historical events by re-enacting known history, or even experience entirely new social roles by building and navigating virtual communities and societies.
- Some of these games even demand hypothesis testing, deep analysis, and interpretation.

James Paul Gea talks about several different learning principles found in various video games, arguing that designers of "good games" are essentially building upon superior methods of learning (interactive, dialogic, and ludic) compared to traditional classroom pedagogy, which often relies on rote storytelling, monotonous drilling, repetitive tasks, and rigid structures.

Now, these would be the positive aspects, obviously, but there are definitely potential downsides too, just like you mentioned earlier—just like anything else, computer games have both their bright spots and their dark sides.

hiddeneagle98 said:I haven't played it. To be honest, I haven't really touched a video game in maybe 15 years. The only exception was Star Wars, which I missed out on when I was younger, and I skipped all the subsequent entries entirely. These days, the only thing I can handle is a PlayStation or a PlayStation U. I just don't have the patience for anything too demanding anymore; occasionally I'll pick up some Super Mario Kart, Super Mario Galaxy 3D, or Donkey Kong, and I did manage to get through Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild—which was an incredible game, by the way. That’s pretty much it. And yeah, I think I spent most of my teenage years hooked on those early massive online games, Subspace and later Continuum. I haven't really gotten sucked into an online community like that since. Now, it's mostly just zombie games or single-player stories—stuff like GTA, racing games, shooters, nothing competitive. Sin City comes to mind right now; that was such a cool, artsy, smart game with that killer bullet-time mechanic. That was probably one of the last things I played on a PC. I'm not really interested in the modern era; I miss the old classics from my childhood—those Sid Meier games back when he was doing them himself, Centurion, Prince of Persia, Warlords, Star Control, Heroes of Might and Magic, Master of Orion, SimCity, Duke Nukem 3D, Descent, X-Wing, Doom, F-15, the Monkey Island series, Lost Vikings... okay, fine, I guess I played Tomb Raider 2 too, but mostly it's that stuff people call "abandonware" today. Man, I feel old. Oh, and Alien vs. Predator was a freaking masterpiece.

Ultimately, that "abandonware" era represents the peak of gaming for me. Back when games were being built by tiny teams or even just a single person working out of passion rather than chasing a massive paycheck. People weren't making fortunes off this stuff back then; it was pure creativity and genius. If I had been a little older, maybe I would have ended up in that Hall of Fame myself. Who knows, maybe I'll get back into it via mobile; I actually have a few original ideas sitting around that are developed up to the proof-of-concept stage.

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Yeah, those old-school games really hit different. They remind me of those early sci-fi shows where they weren't obsessed with special effects—maybe because they didn't even have the computers to pull them off—so all the focus went into the actual story and the characters. Nowadays, both games and TV series are just buried under tech. You take some high-end engine, like Unreal Engine or Crysis, and you just feed the user what you know will sell: flawless graphics, perfect physics, and all that other bells and whistles. Once you have a ready-made framework like that, you don't need to be John Carmack, but you're also naturally drifting far away from anything truly revolutionary.

I personally miss the guys over at id Software and titles like Doom, Quake, or Wolfenstein, because back then, there were genuine breakthroughs in 3D animation and storytelling. Those guys basically defined the FPS genre as we know it.

By the way, if we're talking about the first actual true 3D FPS, it was Descent. That game was an absolute beast; the graphics were incredible for its time, and honestly, I always liked it better than all those other hyped-up shooters. I actually went out and invested in a flight joystick just so I could play Descent and X-Wing properly. I remember Descent mostly because the enemies were such a pain in the ass. Compared to Doom, those things were significantly smarter—they’d hide, sneak up behind you, dodge attacks, the whole nine yards. Since you were piloting ships, there should have been more dogfights, but you could move almost like a drone, just with even more axes of movement available to you. You could strafe left, right, up, down, pitch, yaw, roll—all that stuff—which is exactly why you really needed a decent joystick

Interplay, man. I remember them mainly for putting out nothing but hits

Another World, Blackthorne, Carmageddon, Fallout 2, The Lost Vikings... absolute classics

Duke Nukem 3D was way more interesting to me than Doom, and it was killer for playing multiplayer over a LAN

Little Big Adventure, Enmorph, Monkey Island, Loom, Leisure Suit Larry... I truly feel for people who never got to experience those games firsthand

Man, looking back at some of the heavy hitters that actually stuck with me, I gotta say:

1. Spec Ops: The Line (talk about a total gut punch to those mindless shooter tropes)
2. The Civilization series
3. Syberia
4. 3. Syber 4. Knights of the Old Republic one and two
5. Deus Ex
6. Morrowind
7. Far Cry 2
8. World of Warcraft
9. Fallout: New Vegas

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