Showing posts with label games. Show all posts
Showing posts with label games. Show all posts

Thursday, 27 June 2013

Morality in Games: Part 5

If you've been following this (possibly overlong) series, you've seen some approaches that games have had to the concept of morality: what happens when you give players a choice (and what happens when you don't), what kinds of choices can be presented, and how they can be framed and interpreted within the context of a game system. With all of the problems I've highlighted, is there a future for the morality system?

Arguably the best way to break out of the kinds of limitations and contradictions present in player-driven character building in games is simply to provide more options. The more options are provided, the more complex the morality system. But this is clearly not feasible. Keeping track of vast numbers of variables and creating content for each possibility is extremely difficult and time consuming. Another possibility is to break away from binary morality and use another system.


The CRPGs based on the Dungeons and Dragons system have tried to implement the pen-and-paper game's non-binary two-axis alignment system (based on ethics -- chaos/law, and morality -- good/evil), but it has been restricted in some cases to prevent players choosing any of the evil alignments. It has also been historically difficult to maintain a neutral alignment in these games. Nevertheless, it is a well-established system that allows for a bit more nuance in moral (and ethical) alignment. More complex models like this one could be useful, but ultimately still include the reductive good/evil dichotomy that has so little relevance to the way that moral questions are often considered in other storytelling media not aimed at children or indoctrination.


Many of the moral 'problems' I've discussed in previous parts concern conflicts between game and story (the fashionable term being bandied about lately is ludonarrative dissonance). The truth is that most games with morality systems consider the morality and the core gameplay mechanics to be separate entities, or flavoursome sprinkles on the top of an established game mechanic. In the interest of more novel experiences, 'traditional', explicit morality systems seem to be falling out of favour. For example, this sort of system, used in BioShock, was later subverted in BioShock Infinite: your choices, while appearing to be significant, have no bearing on the plot or protagonist's nature whatsoever. The wish to tell a story with clear themes and messages and the wish to have a player control that story or its characters' natures appear to be in opposition. The way that storytelling has become an important part of gaming means that we either continue to suspend disbelief when confronted with system-narrative conflicts, or hope for new developments that will fit the two together more neatly, without the need for obvious imitation of other mediums.

Nevertheless, the way that morality is dealt with in games has either been similar to the approach of other media, which already allows for impactful characters and stories if done well, or based on player choice that blends this approach with  involvement, which can be enlightening and revelatory for players if done well.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

Monday, 10 June 2013

Morality in Games: Part 4 — Character-driven Morality

Previously, I wrote about how the cast of Mass Effect represented different moralities, and how the player was given a different framework from the supporting characters to work within. Introducing characters that make them care enough to have have an effect on the player's decisions is difficult, but the displeasure of our most liked characters has probably caused a savegame reload or two. Several games have used supporting characters to influence the moral decisions of the player, and some have done this more or less effectively as a way to complicate binary morality.

This is you in video games. True story.

The numerical approval systems of Obsidian's Knights of the Old Republic 2 and BioWare's Dragon Age can open up dialogue options (and resulting backstory) with various characters, and trigger possible romances. A varied cast of characters can avoid a situation where 'good' is praised and other actions not, and characters conflicting with the player character based on his/her actions certainly makes them more interesting. However, the ability to choose dialogue options that you consider to be what the character wants to hear, as well as the ability to bribe characters into liking you with gifts, both result in another instance where the game is put before the narrative. Wanting to please everyone (and being able to) also results in an almost schizophrenic character whose values depend on who he/she is talking to and what the player happens to want from them, especially since choosing a dialogue option usually results in a very sincere sounding, but often meaningless exchange. Of course, getting everyone to like you (or sleep with you) is a goal that many gamers will want to 'achieve', and this will almost inevitably be at the expense of a truly coherent and impactful player character.

Don't tell me you're not touched, you liar. 

Using characters' reactions to affect decisions can be done effectively. In Telltale's The Walking Dead, the player relies on their own moral compass to make choices, as well as the effects and potential reactions their actions will create. While many choices involve a decision between an action that is practical and an action that is honourable, this is complicated by a cast of characters who very often do not agree with your reasoning, and who may have their own motivations. The fact that Lee Everett is not in a leadership position, as many characters are also makes appeasing the other characters more difficult. People will do as they please and follow their own objectives regardless of your own views of their plans, and disagreement can damage relationships and often create more conflict than in other games, where the characters, while important, are incidental to the main story. In The Walking Dead, the characters are the narrative. There is no grand quest apart from survival, and everyone has their own ideas about how this will be achieved.

The moral decisions that Lee has to make go in two directions: towards or against the values of normal society. He has to decide whether the values before the walkers came are worth preserving, or if they are a hindrance to the goal of survival. It would be easier to choose self-preservation and survival at all costs if it weren't for one thing: Clementine. Clementine (age 8, adorable) represents everything positive about society, and you can choose to teach her either that society (and its values) is gone, or that there is hope for things to remain as they were. Of course, keeping her innocent and protected means that she will not gain the skills she needs to navigate and cope with the new world and protect herself. And in the end, you can't protect her from all of the horrible things happening around her. So you can choose the new world, where what was considered a crime is permitted for the sake of survival, or the old, where sacrifices are made in order to remain moral. And in many situations, the only factor keeping you from choosing a certain option is that Clementine protests or will be hurt or tainted somehow. Knowing that whatever you do is something that will shape the life of a child makes the kinds of self-serving decisions that are so common in the win-at-all-costs mentality of gaming much more difficult.

On top of this, you are made accountable for Lee's actions. Making a choice (or not) is difficult, but the game also often makes you defend your decisions, and explain them in a way that makes them acceptable to others. This is uncomfortable, and that is good.

There is a lot of potential in this character-driven kind of morality system, and it would be interesting to see what can be done when underlying binary morality shown in even these games is abandoned entirely.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 5

Friday, 24 May 2013

Morality in Games: Part 3 — Mass Effect and Morality




Not all morality systems are a good/evil binary. There are a few types of morality system that avoid good and evil as their direct reference points. For this post, I’ll look at the Mass Effect games as an example of a different kind of morality, and the way that different moralities are showcased through the different characters. Since the games have been popular, I'm assuming they'll be a good example that most people have played.

WARNING: MASS EFFECT SERIES SPOILERS THROUGHOUT THIS POST. FAMILIARITY WITH CHARACTERS AND PLOT POINTS IS ASSUMED.

Anyone wonder why I didn't mention Mass Effect's Paragon/Renegade system as an example of a good/evil morality system? Well, that's because I don't entirely believe that it is one. While it suffers from similar problems, it deals with something that is not good and evil (though some choices are that blatant). Instead, it involves a choice between Practicality and Honour. Of course, it's not the only example of this kind of morality, but it raises some interesting issues.

He has a point, really.

No matter how you play Commander Shepard, she* is going to be a Big Damn Hero, and her goal is going to be the same. There is no playthrough where Shepard doesn't want to stop the Reapers and save everyone. But how she goes about can be different. The dichotomy involved is more one of kindness/expedience than good/evil. Shepard can punch a reporter or shout at the Citadel Council, but it's because people aren't giving the necessary attention to the dire situation she is trying to save everyone from. Renegade Shepard does not appreciate time-wasting or diplomacy, and will save the universe the way she wants, whether anyone likes it or not. Paragon Shepard chooses to prioritise the needs of the few, showing kindness to individuals that may not lead to the most elegant solutions. This dichotomy both retains some old problems (‘grey’ characters are penalised) and introduces a new set of moral problems, especially when players consider Paragon choices to be ‘right’ and Renegade choices to be ‘wrong’. Often, the way these choices are framed makes it clear that they are not an issue of right and wrong or good and evil. Unfortunately, the game may later decide that the choices were about that after all. For example, at the end of Mass Effect 1, you are given a choice: expend resources and divert ships to save the Citadel Council, or concentrate them on saving the Citadel itself and attacking Sovereign. This is the information you are given, and it is not a simple decision. I chose to save the Citadel and prioritise the main threat: Sovereign. Unfortunately, for the next two games, this was interpreted by absolutely every other character as having "left the Council to die" because you hated them. In the second game, considering Paragon choices to be good would mean condoning tampering with what were clearly the identities of sentient beings (the Geth) as the 'good' option. The games often frame these decisions as difficult as you decide, but greatly simplify them later on. Viewing them as real moral choices is the narratively interesting view, but they can be seen as simple opportunities to score ‘red’ or ‘blue’ points. Granted, this is very much like real life, where the way your choices are interpreted is not necessarily the same as the way you intended for them to be interpreted, and the factors that you considered when making them are not always visible to those judging them.

Interestingly, what BioWare does do in Mass Effect is give Shepard her own binary morality system and dump her in a distinctly grey setting. Mass Effect 2 does this particularly well. Take a 100% Paragon Shepard, lightly kill her, and resurrect her in the employ of the Bad Guys, and clear morality gets pushed out of the way for the sake of story. Granted, the evil of Cerberus is only really well established if you play ME1 pretty thoroughly, but I would argue that before ME2, their space racism, elaborate Bond-villainesque murder of their opponents and biological experiments go well beyond just Renegade choices. And just as you felt any sympathy for their devotion to beating the Reapers at any cost, the Illusive Man goes full cackling villain and gets himself stupidly Reaper-indoctrinated in ME3. So, as much as Shepard would like to stay an unblemished Jedi Knight, it’s just not possible. And when you’re forced to make deals with the likes of the Illusive Man, Urdnot Wrex and Aria T’Loak and may have chosen to welcome hardened self-confessed criminals and unrepentant murderers onto your ship, even being 100% Paragon can never mean being 100% morally okay.

A bunch of lovable murderers

On top of that, the cast of characters show a broad spectrum of moralities. It is indisputable that all of the potential party members have killed and will kill at Shepard’s word. Despite this, some characters consider themselves guilty, others noble, and some just don’t care. Some have beliefs that absolve them of guilt or responsibility for their actions: Thane separates the actions of his body and his spirit, and Samara accepts a ready-made morality system so that she will always know how to do the right thing – except that she doesn’t. Mordin committed a terrible crime, but believes that it was for the best. Morinth, through her rejection by society, embraces and enjoys her power and ability to kill. Jack had little choice but to become a killing machine, and suppresses her morals. Garrus (probably the only Renegade in the way Shepard can be) believes that rules and laws prevent true justice. Shepard, Paragon or Renegade, believes it is her task to save the universe. Going through all of them would take forever, and some of their views change over time, but each party member has his/her own morality independent of the Paragon/Renegade system.

The complex moralities that the Mass Effect series expects you to consider seem to prove the limitations of containing complex characterisation in a binary moral system. Shepard is not free to act as she wishes -- dialogue choices and actions are often a choice between Paragon, Renegade and neutral, the situations and characters you are placed in as a player cannot be contained in this system very easily, especially if it is equated with a choice between good and bad. Of course, game systems will always constrain the player from going crazy and doing whatever he/she wants, or they wouldn't really be game systems. In the end, everyone is greyer than Shepard is on paper (screen?), with choices divided between two extremes. But, I suppose that's okay, since Paragon and Renegade are both two types of hero -- you just get to decide, within the choices you're given, which of those kinds of hero your Shepard is.


*Yes, SHE. I don’t know who that guy on the box is. Your Shepard may be an underwear model, but who’s writing the article here? 


Part 1
Part 2
Part 4
Part 5

Monday, 13 May 2013

Morality in Games: Part 2



Morality is about good and evil. Right and wrong. At least, it is in most video games. Games with clear systems of moral choice allow us to be sure of which is which, something that is clearly problematic in real life, or even in more complex fictional narratives. Unfortunately, the view shown in these types of games seems to be more in line with Saturday-morning cartoons than the great works of literature and film. And while attempts have been made to create more complex moral commentary, dual good/evil morality systems often get in the way of a nuanced experience or character. There are the good guys and the bad guys, and there are good actions and bad actions.

Morality systems built around extremes of good and evil create certain problems. Choosing between good and evil, or good, evil and neutrality in some cases, requires that these choices are clearly flagged. This results in a system where when you're good, you're very very good, and when you're bad, you're horrid. Extremely polarised dialogue choices make your character seem preachy and naive when good, or they make you into a petulant child when evil: seemingly badass threats fizzle when you're repeatedly told that you're going to have to do the quest the way everyone else does, no matter how scaawy you are. if you decide to be neutral, the game probably won't like you keeping it up for long.

Not going to score any points with this lady.

Because the mechanic is often points based (even if this is not transparent), getting all the points is an enticing goal for players. Doing all the quests and talking with all the people in the game is often rewarded through points granted within the morality system, and this means that maximising one extreme is probably going to be considered an indicator of success. Sometimes, indecisive players will be actively penalised because the middle ground is numerically the same as having earned zero morality 'points'. Because of these factors, bonuses are seldom assigned for neutral alignment. This is especially frustrating in games like the Knights of the Old Republic games, where some of the most interesting party members are neutral, but the game seems to ignore the possibility that a player may like to be the same. This means that these RPGs are less about the RP and more about the G -- be consistent, and you're playing the game. The temptation to maximise one alignment means that your character becomes a boring type, rather than a complex, personal character.

Statistics have shown that the majority of players, when given the choice, choose to be good. This happened in both Fable and the Mass Effect series (spoilers). This could be because people are socially conditioned to prefer good options: being nice is... nice. Another likely reason is the way that games with morality systems reward players for their choices. it usually works like this: evil choices are usually rewarded with money and stuff, and good players are rewarded with praise. Some of you may argue that the loot is better, but people in general seem to like the approval more. Being chided is not something they enjoy. It also doesn't help that people don't enjoy the idea that being good makes you radiantly pretty, while being evil just makes you look like you've got lupus.

The narrative, however, has some requirements, and telling the story that the writer(s) want to tell you in a game can often interfere with this black/white moral division. Given a context, knowing whether an action is ultimately good or evil is unclear. Luckily, the design of the game often conveniently helps you to tell the difference. In the otherwise excellent game Red Dead Redemption, the needs of the story (the titular Redemption in particular), as well as the character of John Marston as he is portrayed in dialogue and cutscenes conflict with the very underdeveloped 'honor' system. You can earn an outlaw outfit and rob and kill everyone you meet. You can steal horses. You can even cheat at poker (gasp!). NPCs will display unease around you if your 'honor' is low, but Marston will be visibly uneasy about performing morally questionable acts in the story missions. Marston's Redemption is happening, whether you want it to or not.

I'm not criticising the idea of good/evil morality systems, but where these systems badly interfere with decent characterisation and a player's moral choice being about morals rather than rewards, some thought is needed. Next time, I'll be discussing morality systems that involve variables other than good and evil, and see if they offer any improvements on the good/evil system.

Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Thursday, 18 April 2013

Morality in Games: Part 1


Morality, other than that thing that inconveniently stops us from stabbing our coworkers, is an issue, if not a dynamic,  that is very present in all games. We see explicit morality systems in many of the games we play, and these are implemented with varying degrees of success. Morality systems in games, however, are not the same as morality in games. The approach to morality shown in the games we play is not something we always think about, or even something we are encouraged to think about, especially when games do not provide feedback on in-game behaviour or provide some exploration of moral issues in the game's story. Many of our favourite games do not  provide true moral flexibility in player actions when the player is given only one way of accomplishing their goals (though they may draw attention to this limitation to wonderful effect in games like Spec Ops: The Line or even the first BioShock). This piece is the first in a series on morality.


The first kind of morality I've identified is not necessarily a game system, but a narrative choice: imposed morality. A game with some amount of characterisation and no morality that the player can affect through an explicit and mechanised morality system will impose a morality on the game's protagonist, and nothing the player ever does can change the narrative's idea of who or what that character is. Morality in games is often seen in terms of good and evil, and I've noticed three main groups of imposed morality: imposed good, imposed evil and imposed neutral.



Imposed Good


This guy.

In these kinds of games, the protagonist is good. His/her quest is established to be just, and, if deemed necessary, you are shown that they are a Good Guy through backstory, dialogue and other players' reactons to the character. Your actions in the game, if not restricted to such an extent that they must be good, do not change the way that the character is portrayed in dialogue/cutscenes/interactions. This leads to some laughable moral oversights, especially considering the hitty/stabby/shooty nature of so many games. Link can smash all the pots in Hyrule, but despite this rampant property damage, everyone still loves what a great guy he is. Other characters will mention what an honourable person the protagonist is, even going as far as to bestow mystical artifacts that can only be used by those who are pure of heart on the protagonist because their murder of all the people/creatures in the previous area was just so  pure and righteous. The murder, theft, vandalism and extortion, to name a few, that you commit to finish a game are done in a space that is removed from the game's story, in such a way that no matter what the player's actions are, the character remains virtuous.



Imposed Neutral





This is the space where the more interesting, or at least less hypocritical, protagonists are found. It is also where many "gritty" characters fit in. The protagonist is established as self-serving or having a dark past that explains their propensity towards more morally problematic actions. In other cases, the character is so underdeveloped that they have to fall under this type (is Pac-Man, for example, good?). In other games, the villain is made so clearly evil that your actions seem tame by comparison (or they're just a Nazi or something). This can also be done through setting. On Pandora, for example, where the Borderlands games are set, many people are self-serving, hardened and violent, but not many people are outright evil (that distinction will be made more clear later). The harsh world can make a morally neutral character's more iffy actions more understandable. These protagonists often have the advantage of a story reason for their attitude towards violence, theft or other transgressions, if the game world even recognises these as taboo. There is the most variety of characterisation in "neutral" characters, and most of them lean towards either good or evil or vascillate between good and evil (or even something else that I'll discuss in later parts), so it is difficult to pin down a particular type that embodies neutrality, except that they are not portrayed by the narrative as good or evil. The possibility of character development in this type of character is also clear, with players possibly moving into good guy territory over time, but the player's actions have no effect on the course of this progression.



Imposed Evil


No, really. He actually belongs in the last group.
Sol's really not such a Badguy once you get to know him.

Some protagonists are just evil. This, however, is one of the less common approaches. Games like the Dungeon Keeper series, Overlord,  Evil Genius and maybe Kane and Lynch all have evil protagonists. The main thing that distinguishes these protagonists' morality from the other types of imposed moralities is that the actions that the player is given are almost entirely limited to exploititative, self-serving, cruel or violent ones (the last one is true of a great number of games, though). Performing evil deeds often invokes praise for the player, and there is often no "greater good" that the actions serve. They are cruel for the sake of being cruel or because they are expedient. Sometimes the player is constantly reminded, as with imposed good, how evil they are being. Making this kind of moral stance likeable can be a challenge, but humour can be used to soften the cruelty in these games, or they can simply be sold as "edgy", which can be a hit or miss kind of thing.


These very broad types of imposed morality rely on the traditional distinction of good vs. evil, which can be simplistic and problematic when scrutinised. This is probably why the games falling under Imposed Good or Imposed Evil are quick to remind you on which side of this distinction the protagonist lies. Games that fall under the neutral banner, for lack of a better term, tend to allow for much more nuanced ideas of right and wrong, and make it easier to portray richer characters who are flawed without being hypocritical. They also allow you as a player to pit yourself against an antagonist for more interesting reasons than them simply being on the other side of the Goodie/Baddie dichotomy. Of course, there are many, many ways in which Imposed Good and Evil protagonists can be fun and engaging, and the stories and experiences linked to these kinds of protagonists can be as memorable as any other.

In the next part, I'll be contrasting this Good/Evil dichotomy with another prevalent moral distinction in video games, and talking about games where the player's actions affect the way that the game and other characters react.

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Tuesday, 9 April 2013

About Spoilers


 This post does not contain spoilers.




A few days before the release of BioShock Infinite, I read an article on a gaming site. I don't remember what the article was about, except that it was definitely not about BioShock Infinite. After reading the article, I scrolled down to scan the comments -- something not recommended on most sites, but hey, I'm a masochist.


And there it was. On the very first comment, blatant, unashamed and unsignposted: "Elizabeth is...[redacted] and Booker is...[redacted]". And it was like a punch to the stomach.  This was as spoilerific as a spoiler gets. Except I didn't know if this was an actual spoiler -- the game hadn't been released.  The other commenters echoed my thoughts exactly by replying to the poster with the sincerest, ugliest and most well-deserved abuse. I still don't know if it was a spoiler, a theory, or a fake posted by a heinous troll. It's agony.  I'll have to wait to complete the game to see which of these is true. I really, really hope that it's one of the latter.


I've been told a few times that spoilers don't spoil. That  the execution of a story is more important than the facts of that story. I love rereading/watching/playing my favourite stories to see how they've changed with foreknowledge (or how I've changed), but this claim is just not true. Not for me, anyway. Last year, I watched some really classic movies that I'd somehow managed to avoid seeing. Some of them were movies whose plot twists had so infiltrated public consciousness that mentioning them, even in polite company, would no longer be considered to be spoiling. Those movies were the Star Wars trilogy (the first one -- don't laugh) and Citizen Kane. As much as I tried to appreciate and perceive these stories as a first-time viewer would, I just couldn't. I wasn't really a first-time viewer. Sure, I could see the details and the buildup to the reveal, but that just isn't the same as being shocked and surprised in that fantastic way that fiction can shock and surprise you, or slowly reveal things to you in that way that makes you feel so very smart and perceptive (even if every other viewer/reader/player does too).


Part of the problem, if it even is one, is that this kind of information is just everywhere. Sites have weekly spoiler columns and previews, where people intentionally go to get more information on their particular pop-culture interests. I've been guilty of this data gathering myself, but I've recently begun to resist looking. Firstly, information gained from an online column is either sterile or biased, and is not the same as information gained within the context of a story and its own particular atmosphere. Secondly, this out-of-context information is bound to lead to misconceptions -- if you're gathering this information to decide on whether to buy a product, you may be deceived into thinking you're buying or rejecting one thing when it is actually another. A recent example of this is the furore over the rebooted Tomb Raider. People vowed not to buy the game based on a trailer that purported to represent the tone of the game. Anyone who has played the game since could argue that accusations of 'torture porn' need to be reconsidered, if not dismissed,  when the full context is provided.


Another part of the problem is that, as the saying goes, knowledge is power. Knowing what happens in a particular story, whether it be the Harry Potter novel bought at midnight and read immediately, the pre-ordered or leaked, if buggy, game, or the episode of Game of Thrones downloaded just minutes after US broadcast makes some people feel better than you. Malicious spoiling is just the demonstration of that power.


So, um, yeah. Don't spoil things. It's mean. But it's probably my fault that I waited this long to watch Star Wars.