The ideology of video games

NC State has a vibrant video game culture. If this wasn’t immediately evident from the sizable and well-funded computer science department with a concentration in video game design, the point is driven home by the 102 square-foot screen in the video game lab in Hunt Library. 

But video games are more than just cleverly arranged lines of code for the purpose of having fun, gaining profits or creating art. With the dazzling graphics and realistic gameplay comes an ample dosage of ideology.

Ideology, simply put, is a set of ideas and symbols that create an imaginary perspective of the real world. In political, economic, religious and cultural forms, ideologies can manifest; Marxism, capitalism, the Protestant work ethic and American Exceptionalism are examples of mindsets that change the way that we see reality. 

Besides a set of ideals, commodities can also create or perpetuate ideologies. For example, the satisfaction that we gain from Coca-Cola is more than just the taste of cold carbonated water, unreasonable amounts of sugar and toxic levels of caramel color. 

Through clever (and oftentimes manipulative) marketing, the Coca-Cola Corporation has hitched on existing ideological foundations in order to sell their product more effectively. During the ‘50s, with taglines such as “It’s a family affair,” “The All-American pause” and “Host of the highways,” the drink’s commodity value was elevated from an item that simply quenched thirst to something that perpetuated family values, patriotism and the car culture.

Video games are a special type of commodity. The user is supposed to interact with the many features of the game, unlike other artistic media such as film, paintings or music. This has the net effect of greater immersion, and in turn, a more potent delivery of ideology. Having played over 400 hours of grand strategy games (that is to say where the player controls the economic and military operations of an entire nation) such as “Civilization,” “Europa Universalis” and “Total War,” I have significantly more experience with that genre compared to RPG/shooter/puzzle varieties.

With the grand strategy genre, a common facet of these games is a technology tree in which the player invests some type of research points into discovering a new technology that will unlock new military units, abilities or buildings. The tree is linear in that you must research some technologies as prerequisites for others; e.g. archery must come before nuclear weapons just as currency must come before banking.

At first glance, this seems benign and sensible. But when analyzed at a critical level, this game mechanic perpetuates the dominant meta-narrative of technological history: Inventions and innovations are the best way to resolve social problems.

As we see time after time, many inventions cause more problems than they seem to tackle. The automobile, although reducing the need for horses and thus the amount of fecal matter on the streets, has resulted in increased pollution and caused countless traffic accidents. Even penicillin, which admittedly has prevented countless deaths from infection and acute diseases, has resulted in a Darwinian arms race between pharmaceuticals and pathogens and set the underpinnings to a medical paradigm focused on curing rather than preventing diseases.

But why have a narrative of positive technological change when it does not represent historical reality? We look to grand strategy games for the answer to this question. In order to win the game, whether it be by conquering the enemy cities, accumulating loads of ducats or going to the moon, the player is forced to research technologies, lest the opposition get the upper hand. 

Similarly, we as a society are driven to the hazy idea of success and “winning” out of patriotic motivation and the fear of being conquered by the Other. But unlike games, there is no win condition for real life. This begs the question: What does it mean for humanity to be successful?