So, in an earlier post, I gave my definition of what a “game” is – it’s a series of choices presented to the player in a way that they can make informed decisions that allow them to make further choices. As with any definition of an art, it’s hard to say whether something’s ‘right’ or not – is there even a ‘right’ answer?

But the more and more time I spend with this definition, the more and more useful it reveals itself to be. The keys are the concept of “informed decisions” and “further choices,” and the thing that’s tested the definition’s mettle is the constant exposure I have to ‘game designs’ written by people who simply have no concept of what ‘game design’ actually *is*.

Digression: If you had to make a decision who should fly a 747 full of passengers – a trained, experienced pilot, or a twelve year old high school student with no flight training or experience, why would you ever choose the twelve year old? Yet, this happens all the time in the game industry. Game design is a learned skill. There are reasons that decisions are made the way they are, and if you don’t understand the basic mechanics, psychology, and theory at work, you are not a game designer and you shouldn’t be flying goddamned airplanes. Just because I can make my job look easy doesn’t mean it *is*.

Maybe I can end another paragraph with asterisks around the word *is*?

Anyway – back to the definition of what a game is. (ooh – missed opportunity) Informed decisions are key. And it’s not “If you go left, you will be eaten by bears, if you go right, you’ll be eaten by zombies.” If I present you with a choice to go right or left, and both corridors look the same, and you have no additional information, I haven’t given you a choice that has any significance. Maybe you’ll go left, maybe you’ll go right. It doesn’t matter, because you have no way of knowing what the consequences of making that decision are.

If I give you the same choice, but one corridor is lit, and the other one is covered in blood, now you have some information. Sure, it’s really heavy-handed and stupid, but you can actually make a decision based on some sort of reasoning. Honestly, you’d be surprised by how many people in the game industry – designers, even – don’t seem to understand this point. And no, I’m not talking about an art-house game that’s about the pointlessness of choice, or predestiny, or some cop-out excuse about how my example sucks, okay?

Information and consequence. The choice has to have both, or it’s not a real choice. Now, that’s not to say that every time the player is presented with an option that they have to be given a real choice. Sometimes, you can give the player interaction for the sake of pacing. In Brooktown, for the PSP, I’d give certain characters dialog that required the player to choose between similar responses that would end up at the same NPC response. The different responses would have an almost insignificant impact on the game (+1,-1 to confidence, maybe), but the issue was that conversation needed to flow like real people speaking, and this person was pausing to see if the listener was actually paying attention.

But if you’re talking about *gameplay*, that choice has to have consequence, or there’s no point in giving the choice to the player. If you want someone to choose one path or another, it’s a risk-reward calculation the player should be able to make. Short path, but more enemies? Are they under a time limit? How can they tell one path is shorter? Maybe they can see their destination is closer that way, maybe they can see a bigger cluster of enemies, maybe they have a map, blah blah blah. Lots of ways to communicate that information, but again, a lot of times people seem to overlook the fact that the player needs information. The choice, similarly, shoudl have consequence – if the player takes the harder path, the fact that it’s shorter should make a difference. Maybe they’ve got a time limit, maybe they need more “experience points,” maybe there’s a powerup hidden in there somewhere. If you don’t give the player a reason to challenge themselves, they’ll take the path of least resistance. In this case, they take a long, unchallenging path that’s less interesting, and wonder why the game sucks.

So, as a razor, the definition is remarkably effective. For any mechanic, whether it’s a gameplay or a narrative device, is the player informed enough to make a real decision, and does that decision have a consequence? If the answer to either of those is “no,” it’s time to go back to the drawing board.