The Abstraction of Space

I talk a lot about how human scale phenomena are more resonant and thematic-feeling because those events/things are more easily accessible to our imaginations. We can be transported by them because we have a clearer sense memory of them, or a clearer idea of what it could be like if it is something we have not experienced. Representations of gravity, temperature, speed, weather, smells, and more all evoke our own lived experiences. Themes that rely on human scale experiences tend to be more evocative. 

Even themes that are unrealistic, such as high fantasy, tend to be grounded in familiar settings, such as medieval Europe. Forests, farms, and walled cities are all very human scale and familiar. The same goes for eldritch horror: gas lit streets are not very far removed from the historic sections of those same cities that can be visited today. Magic is not as easy to make evocative, because the concept of magic is meant as a shortcut or alternative to natural processes. But as long as some part of the setting remains human scale, the theme can feel anchored in some sort of logic. 

It is the themes that eschew a familiar human experience that have a more difficult time, regardless of whether those themes represent real phenomena or not. The best example of this is games that are set in space. Space is, of course, real. And a small handful of humans have experienced what it is like to leave our home atmosphere. But the scale of space and the change in physics (gravity, air, speed, etc) give the setting of space a baseline that is beyond what the vast majority of us can imagine. Added to this, most space-themed games include "magic" in the form of fantastical technology: wormholes, faster than light travel, etc. There is nothing to anchor the theme's physics to a familiar experience. 

The result is that space games are more likely to suffer from feeling abstract. The most thematic space games likely feel thematic because they rely on thematic elements other than just vessels in space. Mars at least has gravity. The abstraction of space is exacerbated by game boards with black backgrounds only decorated by round objects in the form of stars and planets. Many true abstracts are also presented on a plain background with round tokens, which is a much more familiar sight to many of us than large scale stars and planets, and certainly more human scale. Thus we associate the form factor with abstraction more strongly that with real celestial bodies. 

Of course, space-themed games sell well. Many people enjoy techno-magic. Thanks to decades of science fiction, space is also associated with diplomacy and negotiation, which translates to game mechanics that feel appropriate to a space theme. Many people like certain aspects of the more abstract qualities of space as a theme, such as point-to-point travel. And the concept of space has always been aspirational, so there is an emotional component. While I don't care for space as a theme for the most part, I have no problem with the people who enjoy it. 

Rather, the point of this post is to illustrate that just because a theme is "realistic" does not mean it will feel thematic. Likewise, fantastical themes can feel grounded in reality. Understanding the relative abstraction of a setting can help designers calibrate how thematic the game is likely to feel. 

ShippBoard Games is a board game design blog that updates most Mondays.