The nascent field of game studies has raised questions that, so far, that field has been unable to answer. Among these questions is a foundational one: What is a game? Despite the widespread appeal of games, despite the rise of digital games as a global cultural phenomenon, vexing problems persistently confront those who design, play, and think about games. How do we reconcile a videogame industry's insistence that games positively affect human beliefs and behaviors with the equally prevalent assumption that games are “just games”? How do we reconcile accusations that games make us violent and antisocial and unproductive with the realization that games are a universal source of human joy? In Games are not, David Myers demonstrates that these controversies and conflicts surrounding the meanings and effects of games are not going away; they are essential properties of the game's paradoxical aesthetic form. Buttressed by more than three decades of game studies scholarship, Myers offers an in-depth examination of games as objects of leisure, consumption, and art. Games are not focuses on games writ large, bound by neither by digital form nor by cultural interpretation. Interdisciplinary in scope and radical in conclusion, Games are not positions games as unique objects evoking a peculiar and paradoxical liminal state – a lusory attitude – that is essential to human creativity, knowledge, and sustenance of the species
After reviewing current controversies concerning the classification of games and sports as art, this chapter argue that these can be considered art using newly revised definitions of artistic expressiveness and intentionality. In particular, within a framework of artistic participation and concreativity guided by algorithmic design, the claim that games and play are not art is precisely the claim required for games and game play, upon occasion (and somewhat randomly), to be art.
Possibilities for combining the game object and the simulation object are limited and precarious. It is certainly conceivable that the output of a simulation might serve as the input to a game. In such a case, the simulation portion of a game might prove capable of spinning along and churning out material effects without need of human intervention, until, as governed by the game rules, the game player chooses to stop that simulation from simulating. During that intervention, the game player might be able to play a game. Yet, when simulation and game are so distinctly layered in this fashion, though they may function in combination and cooperation, that layering seems more indicative of their differences than their similarities.
This chapter claims that games and game play come before culture, before language, and before the sort of human thought we call referential and symbolic. Games and game play are integrally connected to each of these: as proto-culture, proto-language, and proto-reference. But games and game play are also different from these. During game play, seduced by its aesthetic pleasures, we return to a proto-state of mind and a proto-experience: liminality. A critical function of game play is then to separate itself from what our non-proto-state of mind thinks game play is, to separate our selfish and culturally determined desires from our more universal aesthetic experience of being human, of being natural.
Games embody a special sort of reference: an in-between sort. This requires that game rules reference neither too strictly nor too loosely. The latter sort of reference transforms games into toys, ultimately referencing only the ego of the player. The former, stricter sort of reference turns games into simulations, where referencing becomes overly restrictive, bound by material and measurable concerns, dominated by a common (and often communal) set of values and beliefs. This chapter distinguishes the obligatory algorithms of simulations from the voluntary rules of games.
As digital games and game play have become increasingly popular and widespread, the products of digital games have become increasingly profitable, and digital game design has become increasingly influenced by the digital game industry. Given these circumstances, it is tempting to view digital games and game play as consumer products subject to conventional market forces of supply and demand. This chapter explains how digital games and game play avoid market valuations and how a lusory attitude, in particular, resists commodification.
Digital media have demonstrated a particular affinity with games, making digital games more popular and more accessible than their more traditional, non-digital predecessors. However, this apparent affinity -- measured primarily on the basis of revenue generated ¬-- is somewhat misleading in terms of how digital media reproduce the unique semiotic system of games and game play. Upon reflection, it may be that digital media have been most successful in promoting game sales by promoting something other than games: by adapting the semiotic system of toys to the design and marketing of digital games.
This chapter examines the fate of belief in games and game play. There are those who claim that some beliefs are so resolute that it is difficult, if not impossible, to disbelieve them. Given the nature of games and game play, this chapter argues otherwise. Under the influence of a lusory attitude, under the influence of the rules of a game, it is not only common and possible for game players to disbelieve otherwise resolute beliefs, it is equally common and possible for game players to disbelieve that it is possible to disbelieve otherwise resolute beliefs.
Insofar as play is a natural and determinant property of human cognition, it is quite possible to isolate and describe those mechanics -- “game objects” -- that are necessary for game play. Further, this can be done without referencing any individual game player or any individual game play. Similarly, for instance, natural and determinant properties of living organisms allow us to isolate and describe the mechanics of an animal’s digestion or a plant’s photosynthesis without referencing any other idiosyncrasies of either plant or animal. Using this analogy, digestion and photosynthesis and game play are equally formal systems; and these formal systems can be identified solely with reference to those material components necessary to accomplish their most critical functions.
Over the past half century, the Holy Grail of game design has been to provide a game experience analogous to the aesthetic experience provided by stories and storytelling. Games and stories have had a long and troubled history in this regard, with neither emerging unscathed by the requirements and expectations of the other. This chapter offers an alternative solution to the dilemma of how to make games and stories compatible: quit trying. If an ideal marriage were possible, if effort and desire alone could accomplish this, it might have been accomplished long ago. Yet neither technological advances nor programming prowess has proven capable of satisfactorily tying this knot. The most likely conclusion to draw from this persistent failure is that game playing and storytelling originate in two distinct human aesthetic sensibilities. Though neither is made lesser through its incompatibility with the other, neither is made greater or more enjoyable as a reluctant partner in their interminably dissonant pairing.