Ian Bogost on the Post Games podcast disucssing his new book:

My wife plays not like Candy Crush, but one of those match three mobile games that are Candy Crush clones, not obsessively, but regularly, right? While we’re watching TV or whatever. And what is she doing? Why is she doing that?

What she’s interested in is the same thing that makes people want to knit while they watch TV. It’s something to do with your hands. I’m just manipulating something. I’m moving around. I’m feeling the physical sensation of touching the glass and I’m getting the virtualized sensation of these objects swapping places and sometimes disappearing. It’s the same thing as twiddling a coin in your fingers and feeling the texture of your garment or running your hand along a velvet couch, is the story I tell in the book.

I don’t really have a desire or a request for games in this book. But I do think that that opportunity to just provide sensory encounter, I wish there was more of that. I wish there was more interest in that in the game design and game playing community.

Even if it’s also there, like we talked about the tabletop stuff, you talk about the feel of the dice in “your hand, or the button mashing under your fingertip, or getting a mouse that has a certain number of actions per minute, or whatever it is that people who play those kind of games are concerned about. We’re kind of doing it all the time, but then we still seem to believe that what the game is about or how it fits into culture as a form of artistic expression, or of storytelling, or of cinema jealousy, that that is still the goal. And, I mean, maybe I’m mistaken about that, but I don’t think I am.

I don’t think I am because I don’t hear and see discussions of how to make games that engage directly and maybe solely with this sort of idea of physical encounter because it seems irrelevant. It seems like, why does that matter? But it also seems irrelevant when you talk about touching your garment or your couch.

It’s like, oh, are you crazy? Like, what’s wrong with this guy who’s trying to get us to pay attention to doorknobs? And what’s wrong with me is that you engage with your doorknob like a hundred times a day. It better be meaningful and interesting. Otherwise, your life is a lot less rich than it could be. So I suppose it’s just like, like, I don’t know, I don’t have a, I don’t have an ask for games.

If I were to become an active game designer again, this is what I would work on though, is this problem.

I’ve been reading a handful of books that are directly or indirectly helping me focus on the small things in life:

• “How a Little Becomes a Lot” by Eric Zimmer
• “How to Live a Meaningful Life” by Bill Burnett & Dave Evans
• “James” by Percival Everett

I’ve also taken to more psychology and mediation podcasts lately:

• 10% Happier with Dan Harris
• Rethinking with Adam Grant
• Hidden Brain with Shankar Vedantam

I loved hearing Bogost’s perspective on video games on Post Games and I can’t wait to read his latest book, “The Small Stuff”.

IGN:

Microsoft Gaming CEO Phil Spencer, who has been at Microsoft since he joined as an intern in 1988 and with Xbox since the software giant launched its first console in 2001, is retiring, sources familiar with the matter who are not authorized to speak publicly confirmed to IGN. Spencer’s retirement is effective on Monday, February 23. Meanwhile, Xbox President Sarah Bond, long thought by many both inside and outside of Microsoft to be Spencer’s heir apparent, has resigned. The new CEO of Microsoft Gaming will be Asha Sharma, currently the President of Microsoft’s CoreAI product. Finally, Xbox Game Studios head Matt Booty is being promoted to Chief Content Officer and will work closely with Sharma.

I’m at once shocked and not shocked by this news. Shocked that Sarah is resigning. I pegged her more as a successor and trying to change the narrative. And I’m sure the money is good.

Not shocked as I had a hard time believing that Phil (and Sarah) could weather the storm that has been Xbox over the past few years — aquisitions, massive layoffs, studio closures, etc. They seemed to genuinely care about the brand (or I would like to believe they did). But at some point, something’s gotta give.

Maybe the most comically sad and telling part of this announcement is in the opening paragraph of Satya Nadella’s company-wide email (via GameFile, emphasis mine):

Gaming has been part of Microsoft from the start. Flight Simulator shipped before Windows, and you can practically ray‑trace a line from DirectX in the ’90s to the accelerated‑compute era we’re in today.

Ray-trace? JFC.

I came across this article reflecting on 10 years of the Super Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES) in September 2001 issue of EGM (Electronic Gaming Monthly). I was initially humored by the title — Still Super After All These Years. “All These Years” being ten. Surely, ten years is not that long in video game parlance. It’s not a far cry from the spread of proper Zelda or Mario games (5-11+ years).

But then I got to thinking… what happened between the release of the SNES and ten years later? Here’s a timeline:

• SNES (1990/1991)
• Atari Jaguar (1993)
• Sega CD/Saturn (1994)
• Sony PlayStation 1 (1994)
• Nintendo 64 (1996)
• Sega Dreamcast (1998)
• Sony PlayStation 2 (2000)
• Microsoft Xbox (2001)

Compare that with the last ten:

• Nintendo Switch (2017)
• Microsoft Xbox Series (2020)
• Sony PlayStation 5 (2020)
• Nintendo Switch 2 (2025)

I wouldn’t rush to call this the greatest decade in gaming (though, it very may well be). But I’d argue it was the most magical time in video game history. A breakneck pace of console releases. We were witnessing gargantuan leaps in fidelity, design, and input every year or so — from the perfection of 2D side-scrolling and top-down adventures to the birth of 3D and its evolution into arguably what we know it by today.

While it definitely feels like consoles now have diminishing returns —hence Microsoft and Sony’s pivot into subscription services, publishing, and porting — I don’t think anything has illustrated it more than the ‘91–‘01 decade.

Christopher Dring, The Game Business:

My argument is that Resident Evil is more a competitor to Stranger Things than it is to Clash of Clans. Candy Crush is more directly competing with Tiktok than Fortnite. Roblox is more a rival to the school playground than Street Fighter.

I just picked four segments, but you could easily add more to it. I would argue there are games that are akin to toys, for instance. And there are other ways to categorise these player motivations, such as Professor Richard Bartle’s four-way ‘Bartle types’, or Quantic Foundry’s motivation model. Or you can just create your own based on your own world view.

These different ways of reframing the business helps us understand a few things. For one, being amazing at one type of game, doesn’t mean you’ll be amazing at another. How many single-player story studios have tried and struggled to develop and launch a live-service multiplayer title? Naughty Dog stopped mid-way through developing its The Last of Us online game with the realization that it wasn’t set-up to deliver it. Of course there are exceptions (take a bow Rockstar), but there are far more BioWares, Crystal Dynamics, Remedys and Rocksteadys. It’s not that these studios aren’t talented, it’s just their expertise lie in different areas.

Beyond talent, I also think reframing the business is something we need to be doing more with those outside of games, whether that’s investors, analysts, legislators, and even politicians. It’s not uncommon for me to speak to a non-games analyst who has made the mistake of looking at mobile games and console games through the same lens.

With so many games published monthly/weekly/daily and “forever” games seemingly dominating the market, I continually wonder who is playing all of these games? Does a 40-100 hour turn-based RPG stand any chance of business success if the market is at once so fragmented and consolidated? (There’s room for Baldur’s Gate 3 and Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, so I suppose so!)

I think the answer to those questions lies in Dring’s statement. Evaluating “video games” as a whole — whether that’s due to the legacy of the medium (a new form of entertainment that all looked the same) or to prop industry numbers as Dring’s guest Nicholas Lovell points out — is broken. I think “this is no video game industry” is a much healthier way to consider the interest and investment.

This sentiment feels like the perfect follow-up to my piece “Video Games Do Not Exist”.

Flow has bubbled up to my attention through the book ”Designing Your Life” by Bill Burnett and Dave Evans, as well as various TED talks and podcasts. I’m currently listening to the audiobook ”Flow” by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi.

Outside of identifying flow for future career growth, I’m also intriuied by the idea of “flow” combating “languishing”. In the spirit of this blog and its focus on video games, I wanted to share two fun ideas I came across when searching Overcast for the term “languishing”, coincidentally within minutes of one another…

Adam Grant, TEDMonterey:

Like many of you, [during the pandemic] we were isolated from our extended family. My sister was halfway across the country. One day, we were reminiscing about how much we loved playing Mario Kart as we were kids. She said, “Well, we could all play together online now. WHy don’t we start a family game?”

Soon we were playing every day with a video call running at the same time. After a couple of weeks, I stopped feeling so blah. I was living zen in the art of Mario Kart. In the mornings, our kids were asking what time we’d play. They loved it when I would gloat about an impending victory, only to be bombed by a flying blue shell only to just sit there watching all three of our kids drive past me to the finish line in tiny go-carts.

We had so much fun that we started a new Satuday night tradition after the kids were asleep: Adult Mario Kart.

After reflecting on that experience, I’m proud to present to you for the first time my Mario Kart theory of peak flow. It has three conditions: mastery, mindfulness, and mattering.

…

Stop here and take 15 minutes to watch the talk. Lots of good stuff here.

…

This all explains why Mario Kart was such a great experience for me.

It gave me a feeling of mastery. The sweet satisfaction of a perfectly placed banana peel for my sister to slip on.

It required mindfulness too. My brother-in-law was the best player. Beating him demanded total concentration. Especially when my kids were ganging up with him against me.

And it wasn’t just a game. It mattered. Over the past year, we’ve all felt helpless in one way or another. I felt helpless to fix COVID. I couldn’t even do that much to make online school better, and I’m a teacher. But in Mario Kart, I felt helpful. I was able to give my kids something to look forward to when we couldn’t go anywhere. I was able to keep my family close when we were far apart.

We normally think of flow as an individual experience, by playing Nintendo, we were all immersed together. And although we don’t play daily anymore, I feel closer to my sister and my brother-in-law than I ever have before. I learned that love is not the frequency of communication. It’s the depth of connection. I also realized that the antidote to languishing does not have to be something productive. It can be something joyful. Our peak moments of flow are having fun with the people we love.

And the other conversation:

Corey Keyes, Good Life Project podcast:

When I learned about why pinball machines were created, I was astonished to find out that the man, the person who created pinball, created it because he wanted people to experience during the Great Depression the sense that what they do matters. And to enjoy life because they can get better at accomplishing things and making things happen in the world.

And that’s what pinball, the whole story of pinball is. And the man who saved pinball, that movie and book, is all about showing the people in Chicago that it wasn’t gambling, it wasn’t a game of chance, it was a game that you develop skill. Yes you had fun, yes you had to put a little money in there, but he showed them.

I learned to get better at something and I learned that whatever I can focus my mind on and do, I can accomplish something. So out of all the things you would think that could lead to that play, can teach your children and continue to teach adults that what you do matters.

Yeah, I love that and I’ve been actively trying to cultivate more opportunities for play in my “for all those reasons, you know. I think it’s just, we leave it behind, like sometimes forgetting that it’s really fun to do things for no other reason than the feeling it gives you in the moment. And then if you can actually, you know, like build skill around that and gain competence at it also, you know.

Connection and all those other.

I mean, you look at the world of online gaming these days, and I’m not a part of that world, but I know folks who are. And they will spend hours and hours and not getting paid to do this. In fact, you know, they’re paying for the privilege of having access to the games and the machines and, and yet it’s just, and it’s effort.

They’re working hard, you know, they’re probably working harder from a sort of a creativity and a cognitive and a collaborative standpoint than they may be doing at their jobs. And yet they’re doing it simply because they love doing it. You know, it’s to them, it is that thing.

It’s play and they get better at it over time and they do it with other people, you know, and it’s“there’s something kind of magical about it.

I don’t necessarily find it surprising for video games to make their way into conversations of flow. Most consider video games to be a medium that delivers the fastest path to flow. But hearing two smart folks express why that is was quite fun.

Nothing overly earthshattering here. It’s just neat to hear “serious” people bring up games in “serious” talks.