I was playing Lego Batman on PS5 the other day with my husband, and we’d been working on this one particular puzzle for about 30 minutes without any luck. Now, obviously Lego Batman puzzles are not necessarily the pinnacle of difficulty for adults, given that we’re not really the target audience, but let me be the first to admit that sometimes I am stumped. But I’m also a patient [some might say “stubborn”] Gen Xer, and the amount of time I work on games and puzzles before I’m “stumped” is probably much longer than your average player. So, after about 30 minutes of wandering around Gotham, my husband says, “Do you want to just look it up?”
I froze for a minute. Suddenly, I was back in 1985, pressing up, up, down, down, left, right, etc. on my NES controller, or trying to position the Koopa Troopa just so at the bottom of the steps on level 3-1, so I could bounce and get unlimited lives.
I adamantly said, “NO!” and my husband looked at me like I had sprouted a second and third head. I composed myself and continued, “Let’s just keep trying.”
In that moment, I remembered how my 1985-self only tried those cheat codes once, just because I wanted to see what happened. But you know what happened when I did get 99+ lives in Super Mario?
I got bored. Quickly, in fact.
The game lost its luster for me. The 12,759 hours* [*possible exaggeration, but not by much] I’d spent hyper-focusing on the game somehow felt wasted. Pointless. There was nothing to figure out anymore — just a lonely, green turtle-thing to bounce on. At that point, I wasn’t using my creativity, problem-solving, and critical thinking skills (which, contrary to 1980’s parents’ beliefs, did actually get exercised via video games). I was merely practicing hand-eye coordination and fine motor skills. Granted, there was an art to bouncing that turtle-thing just right so you wouldn’t get hit with said turtle and die. But still…
Back then, though, we Gen Xers couldn’t just “look it up.” Sure, some games had guides, but not all of them; and the guides didn’t always reveal all the tricks. We relied on word of mouth — you had to wait until you could talk to the kid who had to turn his console off, not because he was done playing, but because it had gotten too hot and was ready to blow. That kid knew all the tricks.
Now, not only can you look up hints and cheats, but there are actually people out there making money (a lot of it) posting videos of themselves playing the games! I once asked a student how people make money from that, and he looked at me, completely baffled, and said, “Donations.” As if that were the most logical thing in the world.
I was like, “Donations? Who is donating, and why? What cause are they even supporting?!”
Again, he seemed confused. Concerned, even. He said, very slowly and using small words so I could understand, “They’re…supporting…the guy...playing…the game.” Duh.
Mind. Blown.
Well, that’s a whole ball of Pandora we won’t get into right now, but it does get me thinking about purpose. Why do we [humans] play games in the first place? And I’m not just talking about video games — any games. Crossword puzzles, Monopoly, Clue, New York Times Spelling Bee and Wordle; Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock; and yes, video games. Obviously, there’s an entertainment value in there, and for some games, a bonding factor. But in the end, I think we play games because we like the challenge. Yes, on some level, we want to win — because that shows that we can rise to the challenge. Overall, though, even if we don’t win, we enjoy the thrill of the contest.
If you’re using cheat codes, there’s no contest. You’re already breaking the rules. [NOTE: post on why we should follow rules coming soon] You’ve already got an unfair power differential, so it’s inevitable: you are going to win. Where’s the fun in that? Even if you were competing for cash, you could never really claim that win because you didn’t actually have the skills to do it. If someone took your cheat code away, you wouldn’t be able to duplicate what everyone else thought was your own prowess. Isn’t that kind of…embarrassing?
That brings me back to purpose. If our purpose in playing games is to prove that we are capable to the critical thinking it takes to beat the challenge, then there is no need for guides or hints. There’s also no shame in losing, because the thing about games is that you always have another chance. Every time you play, you learn. You exercise your creativity, imagination, problem-solving, and you get better. With cheats, you might “win,” whatever that means in that context, but you’re not learning. You’re not exercising your brain.
Now, tell me again why we should be embracing AI?
