Categorizing Experience-based Design: Intellect-Challenging Design

In this post, we're moving from emotion-based design to cognitive-based design. This is also the last post in this series. 

Intellect-Challenging designs (or intellect-driven designs, I'm still debating my nomenclature) include designs where strategy, tactics, competition, and out-thinking is prioritized. Intellect-driven games have an experiential core of challenging the players, usually in a way that rouses competitiveness. ‘Challenge’ from the eight types of fun is most typified in this category. As such, intellect-driven designs do not need to focus as much on emotional content, as there is less variety in the emotional experience across designs of this nature and also because those types of experiences will be best accessed through focusing on the intellectual challenge of the game. Intellect-driven games can still be seen as ‘immersive’ when the games introduce the possibility of players entering flow states. This is the type of immersion that Calleja refers to as ‘absorption’ in the player involvement model.

   

Intellect-driven games often have themes that are well-integrated with mechanics. Farmers harvest wheat; vikings conduct raids; cowboys herd cattle. The presence of theme is not a clear indicator of whether a board game is emotion-driven or intellect-driven. The clearest example of this is to compare Great Western Trail with Western Legends. Both are western themed games. Both have an emergent narrative of how good players are at being cowboys. However, Western Legends centers the experience of being a character in the old west and Great Western Trail prioritizes strategic play. One is a thematic transportation design, the other is an intellect-driven design. 

Adding theme does add emotional elements. There is a certain emotional content inherent to ‘cowboys on the trail.’ Emotional content (and theme) can add a layer of fun to a game without changing the design style. The same goes for art. We could all still be playing trick taking games with a standard deck of cards. Publishers publish card games to make money, but players buy them because they offer something a deck of cards doesn’t: emotional content presented via theme and art. A theme, even ‘pasted-on’ is appealing to players. Not every theme has to be fully integrated. Integration depends on the design style of the game. 

Simple emotion-driven designs may be easily confused for intellect-driven games. There is a fine line between simple strategy games (intellect-driven) and relaxing ‘cozy’ games (simple emotion-driven). A simple abstract game, such as Seikatsu, can bridge the two styles because the rules are simple enough to not require levels of concentration that preclude engaging with the game emotionally. On the whole though, I would classify these types of games as one or the other based purely on how players engage with the game while it is being played. Players playing intellect-driven games tend to be very focused on every action of the game. Intellect-driven games are usually very mathematically balanced and rarely have elements of luck.

One trap of design is believing intellect-driven designs are the only design space where innovation can occur. This results in prioritizing new mechanisms or new implementations of mechanisms above every other design consideration. Not only is the quest for the next hot mechanism a very long shot for any designer, but it frequently confuses what makes some games great. For some games, it's the challenge, but for others it's the emotional-engagement. 

Lastly, educational designs also fall into cognitive-based designs. These games may be referred to as 'serious games' because they fall outside of the entertainment aspect of game design. However, empathy-based games could sometimes also fall into the category of serious games because their purpose may not be entertainment. I'm not really qualified in the area of educational or "learning" games, so I'll leave this area of cognitive-based design to those that are. 

I'm sure there are more categories that could be explored in experience-based design, but I hope these are a good start to thinking more specifically about the types of experiences that can be created in board games. 

Categorizing Experience-based Design: Empathy-driven Design

When discussing emotion-driven design and thematic transportation-driven design, we are mostly looking at how players feel while playing. For our third category, the focus shifts to designs whose goal is to change players attitudes after the game is over. 

Empathy-driven designs are focused on widening the players’ perspective by providing experiences that are both outside of what players normally experience and using those experiences to broaden players’ emotional intelligence. Empathy-driven experiences broaden players’ understanding of the interior lives and struggles of people who may not be similar to them.

There are two kinds of empathy, cognitive and emotional. Cognitive empathy creates an understanding of an outside experience; emotional empathy creates feelings in the viewer that mirror that outside experience. Elizabeth Sampat, in her book Empathy Engines, summarizes the two: "telling someone a story creates cognitive empathy, whereas putting someone into a situation creates emotional empathy." (p63)

Cognitive empathy cannot be created through abstraction. Emotional empathy can, but this leaves players to interpret their emotions without any guidance. The result will usually be that players will relate the emotions in a game to their own experiences, which does little to widen the emotional perspective of players. The ability to see oneself as a character is different from the ability to empathize with someone whose experiences are totally different from your own. 

Creating empathy in games requires the designer to be comfortable with making people uncomfortable. Discomfort is a sign of cognitive dissonance. The presence of cognitive dissonance means the experiences you are creating are having an effect on your players. To achieve this, prioritize detailed experience over abstraction or stereotypes in your theme. This impacts playtesting, because players will often encourage you to stuff your theme back into the boxes they recognize. You must be prepared to lean in to the cognitive dissonance as much as your players can handle while not going so far that your game is not commercially viable (if that is a concern). Playing with people who are represented by the game can help you sort out which elements may need to change and which are merely doing their job of creating dissonance. 

Echoing what I have previously written about empathy in games, if you want to create (cognitive) empathy you must make games with human characters who behave like real people. Once you drift too far into fantasy, the narrative becomes "not real" and thus easier for players to discount. However, fantasy elements that are included for purposes of cultural empathy such as mythological creatures or obscure folk tales, if done well, can add to the cultural appreciation players gain by playing. The important point here is that player characters should be rooted in the experiences of real people. Studio Ghibli films are a great example of this dynamic. 

Having diverse characters can help create empathy, but representation by itself does not make a design empathy-driven. To be empathy-driven a design must represent the emotional struggles/experiences of the characters, which in turn must mirror the experiences of real people in order for the empathy created to be of much use.

Sampat describes the process needed to generate emotions in games, "Artistic expression has always evoked emotion in an audience, but games are interactive; there is no audience, because players are participants. Instead of looking at techniques other artists have used to create an emotional response in others, it is more useful to look at techniques artists have used to embody emotional reactions in themselves." (Empathy Engines, p41) There is a reason most 'straight' (non-musical) plays are about families or small communities. Everyone relates to these types of interpersonal dynamics, which creates a way into the story for audiences. When audiences (or players) have a way to buy into a story, they are more open to accepting the elements of the story that are 'foreign' to them. Actors also perform this process, finding ways to relate to characters, even 'evil' ones, in order to perform them well. For trained actors, playing more than one character really well is a challenge which is why I advocate for players to identify as only one character in board games if your goal is emotional empathy. 

Closely aligning theme and mechanics helps produce emotional empathy. The emotional/empathetic content of a theme is undermined if mechanics produce emotions that are counter to the intended experience. The effect is like singing an upbeat song about a terrible tragedy or a dirge-like "Happy Birthday." Aligning game actions with a character's narrative goals also helps players connect to their characters. I discussed this in the Thematic Transportation post.

Empathy-driven games require clear design goals about what players should feel while playing and how they should feel after the game is over. Themes should be accessible but do not need to be comfortable. Characters should feel real even if the narrative contains fantastic elements. 

Art, Pandering, & Propaganda

I was considering delaying this post, but upon reflection this post belongs before the next board game experience category- empathy. The reason is that much of the debate online about inclusion is actually two debates occurring concurrently: "Should design be more empathetic?" and "Can the agenda of a design ever detract from the artfulness or quality of the design?" I would say that the answers to both questions are yes. 

I will cover empathy in the next post, so for now let's focus on the second question. When looking at agenda-driven art, I make a few assumptions. 1.Consumers tend to view art with heavy messaging as trying to sell them something rather than a work to engage thoughtfully with. 2.The idea of pandering to increase sales is so pervasive that many people assume inclusion of diversity comes from a desire for sales rather than a place of empathy. 

To the first point, I agree under certain conditions. For me, art becomes pandering or propaganda when difficult truths are ignored or avoided so that the "message" isn't challenged within the piece of art itself. Agenda-driven art strips complexity from issues and reduces arguments to either "for" or "against". Stripping complexity of meaning from art does in fact make that work feel lower quality. Really great art is usually about wrestling with complex truths. Agenda-driven art is often confrontational, but does not handle confrontation well. Western Christian art has often struggled with being agenda-driven because of the fear of contradicting doctrine by discussing difficult topics. Art should be a conversation where the meanings and responses change over time in order for the work to endure.  Agenda-driven art is generally made for people already on board with the agenda. Obviously, agenda-driven art can turn into propaganda, however, propaganda is a much more specific term that doesn't cover all cases of agenda-driven art. In regards to board games, the obvious forms of agenda-driven design are usually made by people who have not researched the industry and unfailingly produce terrible games. More subtle cases require careful examination, but there comes a point when the amount of examination required means that while the game may have problematic themes, it probably isn't wholly agenda-driven. 

The second point is where these debates often fracture. On the one side, people are complaining about pandering to (usually new) audiences while the other side is attempting to discuss empathy. I am sure many people think about large corporations first when we think about pandering. Speaking as a woman, pandering for me is offering pink or flowery versions of products but doing nothing to address harassment in the workplace. So, let's define pandering as catering to others' perceived desires while not addressing their needs. The argument in board games is that a game needs to be good and therefore people's desires for representation are a distraction from the game's needs. This is faulty logic on a number of levels. The first faulty assumption is that the primary purpose of a game is to be a collection of solid mechanics. I would argue that, in fact, the primary purpose of a game is to be played and enjoyed by people (even if that game is Monopoly). Another problem with this logic is framing the situation as either/or (which is also something agenda-driven art does). Most game designers take it as a given that everyone is trying to design the best game they can. Assuming otherwise is both harmful and ignorant. Harmful, because it imputes the professionalism and integrity of a small community of small business owners and creators. Ignorant, because it assumes that it is possible to get rich in board games by pandering to certain audiences. It doesn't take much googling to come to the conclusion that most publishers lose money on a first printing. Designers and publishers are trying to grow the hobby by bringing in new audiences. That is in part an economic push because a new gamer has more room in their closet for game boxes than someone who has been in the hobby awhile. But the reason publishers and designers are in this field to begin with is a love of games. A love they want to share with people. If they didn't love it, they'd find/return to a field with less razor-thin profit margins. Most of them are good actors who are incredibly generous with advice for newcomers. 

But what about inclusion and representation in games? When is it authentic and when is it not? Here's some test questions: Is it accurate to the community that is represented? Does it rely on stereotypes? Does it attempt to convey complex truths? Are people trying to get rich off of someone else's heritage? Does it reflect reality? If not, is it a hopeful look to a better future? Does it "punch down"? Does the character's identity impact the story-telling? Should it? Does the creator have a reputation for thoughtful contemplation of criticism from marginalized communities? 

Bottom line, I can't tell you if any given work of art is "authentic" or "pandering" but by examining it yourself you can at least see which direction it points toward.