Print Screen: The Ethics of Computer Games
6/25/2009 3:34 PM | 8 Comments | Page 1 of 2
Videogames are different from other forms of mass media. They require player input and, therefore, some level of player reflection. This interactivity, some argue, makes games a superior form of entertainment. You can give players choice; you can give players immediate feedback about the consequences of their decisions. And, if this year's E3 is any indication, this "moral choice" understanding of game narrative is still running strong.
Attendees at the
Brink demonstration were given the chance to vote on looting a weapons locker, with horrible consequences; and romance in
Dragon Age: Origins was reduced to a bad girl/good girl decision. And last month's
Infamous was almost a parody of ethical choices as seen in gaming; if it hadn't so closely resembled so many other games I would be convinced it was satire.
But what if we understand ethics and games in a different way? In his new book "The Ethics of Computer Games," philosopher Miguel Sicart argues that interactivity means more. For him, player control makes games "ethical objects" -- a fancy phrase meaning that game design can be ethical or unethical, based not on its content but on whether it pushes the player to consider the consequences of his/her choices.
For example, the big reveal near the end of
BioShock, where you learn how little control your character actually had over his actions, is hailed as an important ethical statement since it forces you to reconsider everything you have done up to that point. Conversely, the Dark/Light decisions in
Knights of the Old Republic are an example of unethical game design for Sicart, since they boil ethics down to whether your decision helps you unlock specific powers or plot elements. This is not an ethical design choice even if it is couched in ethical terms.
This distinction leads Sicart in some curious directions. The widely reviled
Manhunt is a game in which killing is the only choice, and it consistently pushes the player deeper into unethical and non-virtuous behavior. Reflection, Sicart suggests, is inevitable. Meanwhile, he argues that
XIII, which insists that you
can't kill the police, would be better if you had to face the consequences of cop-killing. An ethical game is one that forces players to confront their actions.
It's almost perverse to think that games that remove or limit choice could be ethically superior. But being able to control your character's ethical being is not the same as reflecting on the ethics of your character. The pointless decision about whether to kill Little Sisters in
BioShock, and the buy-your-way-to-neutrality option in
Fable, are implied to be examples of bad game design. Pretending that your game has an ethical component is worse than simply not addressing the issue at all.
This is, admittedly, a very novel way of looking at game design. Though many in the serious games movement have consciously worked to invoke reflection and emotion, it's doubtful that the makers of
Manhunt were driven by a desire to make a meditative commentary on violence. And, of course, many games are simply outside of ethical discussion.
Tetris and
Bejeweled and maybe even
DOOM are rather trite as objects of ethical inquiry. Move blocks. Match gems. Kill demons. Not a lot to think about.
