Mechanics, messages and values in design

‘Designers and engineers’ Mary Flanagan, Daniel Howe and Helen
Nissenbaum suggest ‘have become increasingly aware of the ways in
which the artefacts they create can embody political, social and ethical
values’ (2005). Following this, they aim to produce ‘practical methodologies
that systematically incorporate values in the [game] design process’
and, most importantly for this discussion, they state their stance ‘places
values among other criteria of excellence in design, such as functional efficiency,
reliability, robustness, elegance, and usability’ (ibid.). Whilst not in
a clear sense, I would highlight that these are factors that were also important
for students. Their engagement with the games I introduced took part
across a range of factors and consequently, any associated expansion of
design imaginaries would be similarly diverse. Using explicitly politically
motivated games to expand and explore students’ games design imaginaries
with the potential that these experiences, as Duncan notes, could form part
of their own practices later on is a complex task not least in terms of the
games. For example, in relation to the Velvet Strike mode of Counter-Strike,
Ian Bogost (2006) suggests ‘while interesting as a “software intervention”,
Velvet Strike is more a commentary on videogames genre conventions than
a commentary on social conditions’. In turn, Alex Galloway (2004) points
to how Under Ash ‘does nothing to critique the formal qualities of the
genre [. . .] instead it is a cookie-cutter repurposing of an American-style
shooter for the ideological needs of the Palestinian situation’. This brief
comparison draws out the potential distinctions that may be drawn
between critique and intervention in terms of mechanics and genre and
the social and ideological. As Molleindustria’s Tuboflex points out, these
can be intentionally married. With regard to student experiences, learning
Thinking with games: exploring digital gaming imaginaries and values in higher . . . 65
design and their imaginaries, these games may have a substantial potential
reach in terms of considering what games can be about, how games
are developed with regard to particular industry imperatives and how the
students reflect on their position entering the industry.
The comment from a student, ‘I enrolled on the course because I want
to be a games designer, because I want to change things for the better’
(focus group), points to a broader concern for reflection on their part.
Similarly, in a focus group session when a student stated the importance of
fitting oneself to the industry, another student replied but then ‘the industry
is going to get boring if everyone does that, so we’ve got to, we’ve all
got to put our own little thing into it’ (interview). The notions of reflection
and improving the industry and achieving this in personal, distinctive and
incremental steps are in part both issues of imaginaries. In terms of reflection,
for Janet Murray, ‘a tradition of self-reflection helps to professionalize
design practice, taking it away from the limited horizon of the next profitable
game, and focusing on the career-sized goals of expanding the power
of the medium itself ’ (2003). Some of the games that I introduced to students,
notably September 12th and Tuboflex, with their focus on mechanics
and social commentary, could certainly prompt reflection on design practices
and open up horizons. That these games would be included in a
course on preparing students as industry ready is a tutor-, course- and
institution-specific question. Nevertheless, they offer interesting perspectives
and could contribute to understanding and situating design aspirations
and debating games design and the medium.
How reflection and expanding imaginaries and horizons are negotiated
with students may be addressed through the idea of ‘artful integrations’ as
introduced by Suchman and Bishop alongside their discussion of cultural
imaginaries. They describe how a frame of ‘artful integration’, ‘emphasizes
the ways in which new things are made up out of reconfigurations and
extensions to familiar environments and forms of action’ (2000: 332). The
potential for reflecting on games design may emerge from the coupling of
familiar mechanics and strange content. As Flanagan et al.’s (2005) values
in design approach suggests, to think about values such as politics in games
necessitates considering a range of other factors. Of course, as noted,
certain games may not do this and students may not engage in this way.
What this discussion has hoped to prompt is a consideration of the nuances
and subtleties of expanding imaginaries and, as the comparisons with critical
media education suggest, how particular examples can develop this
expansion in diverse ways. Importantly, these examples cannot be introduced
in abstract ways separating the content from the practices which for
students are, in preparing themselves as industry ready, all important.