This Must Be A Game

I’m having fun does that means this must be a game?

I’ve been sitting here, scanning my memory for those occasions when I remember having fun. So far, each time I found fun happening the four elements of gaming were happening — a goal, rules, feedback, and a sense of voluntary participation.

This does not constitute proof that the four elements are required for fun. Anecdotal evidence does not constitute proof, even so, these is a definite suggestion of a link between having fun and playing a game.

When the four elements of gaming are in place does that inevitably lead to fun?

Yes and No. Meaning, that most of the time it does in fact lead to fun, but I don’t believe it is required.

Is having fun required for a game to be worthwhile?

I can easily recall several occasions in which I did not have fun while playing a game — and yet, I found it very worthwhile.

When playing a game do I always find it fun and/or worthwhile?

No and yes. Meaning I can recall playing games which I did not find fun and I would declare to be not a worthwhile expenditure of time. However, on those  un-fun, non-worthwhile occasions one or more of the four elements of gaming were missing. So really, on those particular occasions the game was a game in name only.

So if by game you mean those times when all four elements of gaming were actually in place and operating then I would have to say yes I always find it fun and/or worthwhile.

If you find this particular type of excavation interesting, here’s a shovel you can use to dig around for yourself:

The Shovel:

  • Recall a time you were having fun.
  • Was there a goal?
  • Were there rules?
  • Was there a feedback mechanism?
  • Did you have a sense that participation was voluntary?

I’ve done a fair bit of digging using the above shovel. Doing it I discovered a few things.

First the nature of “goal.” To make the above shovel work it was necessary for me to use the word goal in its mathematical sense: by this I mean goal = the result or achievement toward whicheffort is directed. Sometimes we fall into thinking goal = some socially acceptable rationale that will justify my expenditure of time and effort, especially something that will make me look good.

For example, when playing “tease the cat with a fuzzy ball on the end of a string” the goal was to induce the cat into taking a swat at the fuzzy ball — without sinking its claws into the ball and ripping the string from my fingers. Not a lofty goal that will look good on a resume or college entrance essay. But a definite goal.

As far as rules go, if you look around for a written set of Hoyle’s Rules For Playing With A Cat you will not find it. (By the way, if you take this idea, write a book, and make a small fortune I have an animal rescue program that I’d like you to donate a portion by way of saying thanks for the idea.) So no written rules. But, on examination it becomes clear that in addition to the rules I imposed upon myself, the cat had a very definite set of rules.

It would be surprising if application of the above shovel does not demonstrate to your satisfaction that when fun is happening the four elements of gaming are not far.