This is something of a departure from our usual course of cool science and bragging about our products. Today I'm airing some thoughts on game design and the interaction between the design of a game and how it is packaged and marketed.
Did you ever have this experience when you were a kid? There's a cool game you've seen advertised, so you pester and pester and pester and pester and pester your parents about it, and finally one birthday there it is inside the gift wrapping. You tear it open . . .
. . . and what's inside isn't nearly as cool as what was on the box, or the TV ad. You play it once or twice but it isn't much fun, then it gets shoved under the bed, and maybe some of the pieces live on in a kind of toy-zombie state as independent playthings. From time to time your parents make pointed comments about it when you ask for something else.
I have a Theory that this disappointment comes about when the experience of playing a game is too different from its ostensible subject matter. If the name of the game is something like "Carrier Attack!" but the rules and board are really just modified Monopoly with places like Coral Sea and Leyte Gulf instead of Boardwalk and Marvin Gardens, then that game will wind up under the bed.
For a real-world example, consider the game Mastermind, which is a pretty interesting logical-deduction game. The box, however, used to display a kind of James Bond villain complete with deadly-looking female sidekick. The box says "espionage and intrigue" but inside it are nothing but little plastic mushrooms and a pegboard. I expect there are a lot of Mastermind sets gathering dust under the beds of kids who were hoping for something which would satisfy their desire for Bondian action. (Meanwhile, Mastermind now thrives as a solo computer game.)
In roleplaying games, a similar problem comes up when the game rules don't support the conventions of its genre. When Greg Costikyan designed the Star Wars roleplaying game for West End, he was careful to create a set of rules which allowed player characters to perform the same kind of stunts as the heroes of the films.
Game engines which aspire to universality, like GURPS or the HERO system, sometimes turn out to be incompatible with particular genres because the design assumptions just don't support the conventions of those genres. The heavy emphasis on realism in the GURPS rules makes it difficult to replicate something like Star Wars, where two dozen crack stormtroopers can blast away at Han Solo without hitting him. In contrast, the HERO rules, originally created for the superhero RPG Champions, don't really support "gritty realism" at the low-powered end. (I suspect a great deal of the endless "GURPS vs. HERO" arguments can be boiled down to "this system supports genres I like.")
Getting the gameplay to match the subject matter is one of our unstated (until now) goals at Zygote Games. For BONE WARS, for example, we could have used a Monopoly-style board with different bone beds instead of properties. But that wouldn't have replicated the feel of being a 19th-century bone hunter. When I describe other science and nature games as "lame," part of what I mean is that the game doesn't really match its subject.
I'm very interested in seeing if this idea resonates with readers -- who are, after all, the people most likely to wind up playing Zygote games. How much does this matter? Can a really good game engine be fun to play even if it doesn't have anything to do with its subject?
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