Saturday, January 22, 2011

It's not a competition... unless you're Hadley

I am quite competitive when it comes to board games. Other people are always doing eachother and me favours in the game, with the expectation that the favours will be returned. But when I play a board game involving in-depth strategy, I play to win. The longer the game takes, the more serious about it I seem to get.

I compare this to someone playing a sport, or hunting, or running an adventure race. Those things are often more satisfying when taken seriously, are they not? I suppose it is different for different people. Anyway, comparing it to these things makes me think it's OK.

One problem might be that I can become unhappy if I am losing. That is pure bad and not OK. I think I might be growing out of it though - last night I very seriously played Dominion and came in Worst Place, but I still felt satisfaction and relief at having played a good game.

I think the trifecta and I have a similar mindset about board games, and the trifecta loves board games (they don't get upset if they lose, though). I may have learned this seriousness from them.

3 comments:

frangibility said...

Hey Hads,

When it comes to a philosophy of gaming, my approach is best summarized by Reiner Knizia (designer of 'Tigris and Euphrates', 'Modern Art' and other sweet games): "When playing a game, the goal is to win, but it is the goal that is important, not the winning."

Bruno Faidutti wrote an excellent article (called 'Games and the Anguish of Life') about how playing games can provide existential meaning by allowing players to escape (however briefly) to a world where the rules are entirely knowable. I think there's something to that perspective!

Hadge said...

Fascinating!

I really like Knizia's way of putting it. Where is that quote from? Does he elaborate on why it is important to have the goal of winning?

So, Faidutti is saying that, as games are simpler and better-defined than the real world, they provide a retreat from the complexity of our day-to-day conflicts? And in doing so, they leave us refreshed and more able to take on those conflicts? I'm not sure he has completely explained how games do the latter.

Oh, oh, but they remind us that the real world is not simple... and playing games is an alternative to deluding oneself that it is! Perhaps he is on to something.

frangibility said...

Hey Hadge,

I'm not sure where the Knizia quotation is from... I think it came from one of the many interviews he's done (in Germany, it is actually possible to be a high profile boardgame developer). As for why winning must be the goal, I think it comes down to the teleology of games: from the beginning, the entire rule set exists to create an arbitrary, constrained system within which players can contend with one another. (Obviously, this isn't true of totally random games (e.g., Candyland), but I'd call them "activities" rather than "games"). You can't just play to "have fun" because a) you are defeating the purpose of the system and b) you are potentially impeding the enjoyment of everyone who *is* there to compete. Imagine a 50m Dash where one of the racers arbitrarily decides that they don't feel like running, but would rather hug someone. Not only have they thrown the race, but they have also impinged upon someone else's chances too. Though it is not as obvious an example, I think that someone who "plays" a boardgames by cheating, making semi-random moves, or enacting little vendettas is guilty of the same breach of social propriety.

The one exception, of course, is if everyone in a group is solely getting together for the purpose of "playing for fun" (e.g., not attempting to win), but I would argue that in the process they transform whatever game they are playing into an activity (like doing jigsaw puzzles). Likely the confusion between games and activities arises because so many of the games most people are familiar with (especially the role-and-move classics marketed to kids) feature no decision making or reflection. When that is your reference point for "games," it's no wonder that you wouldn't take playing them seriously.