# Chris Bartel's Draft Which Should Not Be Shared. ![rw-book-cover](https://readwise-assets.s3.amazonaws.com/media/reader/parsed_document_assets/175492033/peDNnHQxApN5oln_tquatoU2hDYomlQSvLbXGTBKaio-cove_obI1NuQ.jpg) ## Metadata - Author: [[Chris Bartel]] - Full Title: Chris Bartel's Draft Which Should Not Be Shared. - Category: #books - Summary: insert summary - My notes: - Summary: This text discusses the aesthetic value of video games and how players can find enjoyment in various aspects of gameplay. It explores different attitudes players can take towards games, such as goal-seeking, narrative appreciation, and role-playing, and how these attitudes contribute to the overall aesthetic experience. The author argues that video games offer unique aesthetic qualities that cannot be fully understood through traditional art forms, highlighting the importance of recognizing the aesthetic value of gameplay mechanics and interactivity. ## LLM Chats ## NotebookLM ## LLM Audio ## Highlights > It might be tempting to maintain the narrow sense of “aesthetics” by thinking that storytelling in video games becomes an aesthetic object only because it is a visual form of storytelling, like cinema. But that would obviously ignore the fact that novels and poems are aesthetic objects too, and their aesthetic properties are not dependent on visual aspects. Some might be willing to concede that storytelling in video games is part of their aesthetics, but that only expands the realm of aesthetics somewhat. What about gameplay? Fans and critics of games often describe gameplay in aesthetic terms. Gameplay can be satisfying or clunky, battles can be exciting or disappointing. The idea that gameplay is itself a source of aesthetic value has been growing in recent years (Kirkpatrick 2011, Nguyen 2020, Robson and Tavinor 2018). With this book, I want to examine where we can look for aesthetic value in gameplay, but that requires that we expand our understanding of aesthetics. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyaschdejchs9rhy4hr2xsk2)) > On the Humean-Kantian view, aesthetics is subjective in the sense that we must judge the quality of an object by appealing to our sense perception. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyasghvmh7kyxdmhy9g1zfd3)) > For my part, I don’t think that I can prove to you (or to anyone else) that aesthetics is universally valid in the way that Kant thought. But I also don’t think I have to. Instead, all that matters to me is that we acknowledge that there are two parts to aesthetics: the object and the subject. Objects really do have properties to them—properties that cause aesthetic experiences for individuals—but it isn’t possible to say what an individual’s experience of those properties might be like without also specifying who the subject is and how they think about things. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyaskasnwcq4j55ta7hwepkh)) > My view of aesthetics follows that of Elizabeth Schellekens (2006). On her view, objects have certain properties objectively, but one’s aesthetic experience of those objective properties depends on certain psychological features of the subject. Two subjects who possess the same relevant psychological features should be expected to respond to the object in similar ways, while two subjects who possess different psychological features would naturally respond to the object differently. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyaskteefd5hbcye2q9tjqz0)) > Artists can learn to anticipate how audiences will respond to their work, but doing so means understanding your audience as well as understanding your artform. Video games are crafted with certain expected qualities in mind too. The way in which players aesthetically experience a game depends in part on how the game was designed and also on who the player is and what attitude they bring to their play. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyasm8t6m4ypzzw8vkm918qs)) > The central claim of this book is this: there are three distinct attitudes that players take when they play video games. I call these the *goal-seeking attitude*, the *narrative attitude*, and the *dollhouse attitude*. Each of these attitudes has a distinctive impact on the player’s aesthetic experience. There are certain qualities of games that appeal to one attitude or another, while there are other qualities that can be aesthetically transformed when players take different attitudes toward their play. The aesthetics of video games must account for how the game is crafted alongside the player’s attitude toward their play. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyasn15rh3tgejebzsvbzt0h)) > Once the concept *art* is decoupled from the concept of the *aesthetic*, then we are free to go looking for the aesthetic value in video games whether we think of them as art or not. What matters to us more is how we define “the aesthetic”. The definition I will use is this: *aesthetics* refers to apparently intrinsic properties that are valued for their own sake. Aesthetic enjoyment is one of the basic pleasures of life. And importantly, we appreciate objects aesthetically because doing so is itself worthwhile and enjoyable. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyasp8mfpez58qe3ttxhm8kd)) > In Chapter 3, I will introduce the idea of play attitudes. I will argue that philosophers of games have long held that games and play are partly defined by the player’s attitude. Video games too require an *attitudinal* theory of play. There are three attitudes that players take toward video games: a goal-seeking attitude, a narrative attitude, or a dollhouse attitude. When we approach games as a challenge to be won or a puzzle to be solved, then we are taking a goal-seeking attitude. This attitude is characterized by its acceptance of the built-in goals of a game, its use of means-ends reasoning, and the quantifiability of outcomes. When we approach games as stories, then we are taking a narrative attitude. Some games have a built-in narrative—a story that the game designer wants to tell—however all games have the right temporal structure to allow the player to develop their own story. Finally, when we approach games as toys that can be bent to our own will, then we are taking a dollhouse attitude. This attitude is characterized by its lack of means-ends reasoning, a deemphasis on quantifiable outcomes, and the willingness of the player to project their own stories and goals onto the game. Each of these attitudes makes a distinctive contribution to the player’s aesthetic experience, which will be detailed in three separate chapters. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyasrpc33yag52185sfz7w8b)) > Drawing on the work of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and C. Thi Nguyen, I argue that competitive play can induce “flow states” and also provides the right structure for “striving play”. I also argue that we derive aesthetic value from the uncertainty of play and that games are aesthetically valued for their rules and mechanics. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyassnygkkyjgh85yjc9vbxj)) > To be more accurate, I argue that each of these identifies a distinct kind of attitude that the player takes toward game playing. Goal-seeking play, narrative play, and dollhouse play are not genres or categories of games. They are psychological attitudes that the player takes. Players can freely switch from one to the other. Some games are designed to complement one specific attitude, while other games are designed to allow the player to choose how they wish to play. Players experience different aesthetic qualities depending on what attitude they take toward their play. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyat3a9cf800br88gc02emc9)) > Chapters 3 ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyat42dtj78vzv6p2nav61af)) - Note: Typo > More often, games are mentioned by philosophers as a kind of diversion from more important issues. For instance, David Hume makes a passing reference to playing a game of backgammon as a way to distract himself from his academic pursuits (*Treatise* I.6.vii). ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyat5wd70yv7b5e4vd9hkes5)) > All play moves and has its being within a playground marked off beforehand either materially or ideally, deliberately or as a matter of course. Just as there is no formal difference between play and ritual, so the “consecrated spot” cannot be formally distinguished from the play-ground. The arena, the card-table, the magic circle, the temple, the stage, the screen, the tennis court, the court of justice, etc., are all in form and function play-grounds, i.e. forbidden spots, isolated, hedged round, hallowed, within which special rules obtain. All are temporary worlds within the ordinary world, dedicated to the performance of an act apart. (Huizinga 1970: 28-29). ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyat78dgash62h0gm3cda31h)) > Ultimately, what legitimizes play is the consent of the players. In traditional games and sports, play is sustained by the on-going and active will of the players. For instance, when playing a board game, it is up to the players to enforce the rules. Or if a group of friends decides to play a casual game of soccer in the park, it is up to the collective will of the group to uphold the rules. The rules must be policed by the players themselves. Video games are different from traditional games in that the job of upholding the rules is automated by the computer (Juul 2005: 49). This difference aside, the player still willingly accepts the rules and challenges of the game. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyat9wscw4gq51ra88k0jq3g)) > Caillois argues that games are a formalization of play, but play is the more fundamental category that needs to be explained (2001: 4). Caillois begins by offering an account of the characteristics of play. On Caillois’ account, play has six characteristics (many of which overlap with Huizinga’s four). First, play is *free* in the sense that it is not obligatory. If we were obligated to play, then play “would lose one of its basic characteristics: the fact that the player devotes himself spontaneously to the game, of his free will and for his pleasure…” (ibid.: 6). Second, play is *separate* from the concerns of the real-world. Spaces and times are set aside for play. Third, play is *uncertain* in the sense that one cannot determine the course of play or the outcome in advance. If one is merely following a predetermined set of directions, then one is not playing. “An outcome known in advance, with no possibility of error or surprise, clearly leading to an inescapable result, is incompatible with the nature of play” (ibid.: 7). Fourth, play is *unproductive*. It is easy to misinterpret Caillois here. He is not saying that play is wasteful or useless. Rather, he is saying that the purpose and value of play is not for the production of goods. If we looked at play from the perspective of someone who only cares about productivity, then play would appear to be a “waste of time, energy, ingenuity, skill” (ibid.: 5-6). But that is the wrong way to think about the value of play. Players expend considerable energy, but at the end of a game, players simply erase the score and start over again.[18](private://read/01hyaj97rwg93m58b0vzk48x6y/#note_18) Finally, Caillois’ fifth and sixth characteristics are that play is either *rule-governed* or it is *make-believe*. Some play is governed by rules that “suspend ordinary laws, and for the moment establish new legislation” (ibid.: 10). This is the case particularly when we play formal, competitive games. Other play is ungoverned by rules, as is the case with imagination games—like playing with toys, playing dress-up, or playing *House*. These are games that “presuppose free improvisation, and the chief attraction of which lies in the pleasure of playing a role, of acting *as if* one were someone or something else… [and] the sentiment of *as if* replaces and performs the same function as do rules” (ibid.: 8). ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyatcn25chp8mt5dnwbad0zs)) > Suits identifies four conditions for some activity to count as a game-playing activity, which he calls the *prelusory goals*, *lusory means*, *constitutive rules*, and the *lusory attitude*. A prelusory goal is a certain state of affairs that could be achieved independently. That state of affairs might be to cross a finish line, jump over a high bar, or arrange the pieces on a chessboard so that one’s opponent is in checkmate. The prelusory goal is achieved by following certain sanctioned actions, called the “lusory means”. These are designed to offer a challenge, which is achieved by selecting means that are less efficient than some other available option—these are the “constitutive rules”. The easiest way to win at pole vaulting is to use a ladder to clear the bar. This would more efficiently achieve the prelusory goal—clearing the bar—than the sanctioned means of vaulting over the bar at the end of a long pole. But using these more efficient means would not count as pole vaulting. Players adopt less efficient means to make the task challenging. Finally, and importantly for us, players willingly adopt inefficient means to achieve the prelusory goal just because doing so makes the entire activity worthwhile, which is called the “lusory attitude”. Echoing Caillois’ point about the arbitrariness of a game’s rules, we accept the inefficient and arbitrary means to achieve some goal just because doing so makes achieving the goal worthwhile. When we play games, the goals we pursue are not intrinsically valuable, and the means to achieve the goal are unnecessarily difficult. Yet, playing a game becomes a meaningful activity when, and only when, the player accepts the challenge for what it is. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyatnaj1mkrq8e6eg4hy04v6)) > Jesper Juul (2005) seeks to define “games” rather than “play”. His account employs six conditions: “A game is [1] a rule-based system [2] with a variable and quantifiable outcome, [3] where different outcomes are assigned different values, [4] the player exerts effort in order to influence the outcome, [5] the player feels emotionally attached to the outcome, and [6] the consequences of the activity are negotiable” (2005: 36). For our purposes, the interesting condition is (5). Conditions (1) to (4) are formal conditions, meaning that they describe features of game playing that can be identified objectively by a dispassionate observer; while condition (6) is a social condition, meaning that whether the outcome of a game is attached to some external reward has more to do with the culture of the players than it has to do with the game itself. Condition (5) is neither formal nor social. It describes an individual, psychological feature of the player’s attitude toward the game rather than a formal or social aspect of the game. As Juul notes, condition (5) follows from condition (4). Given that players expend considerable effort to influence the outcome of a game, then players naturally feel some emotional investment in seeing the outcome go their way, even in games of chance where the player’s influence on the outcome is quite minimal (2005: 40). ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyatnmg3xbgy3pxfzm6y998v)) > In his story, Bogost is hurrying through a shopping mall running some dreadful errand. His aim is to get it over with and get out of the mall as quickly as possible. However, he is accompanied by his young daughter who has made a game out of trying to keep up with the fast pace of her father. In his description of the situation, his daughter has found a way to turn an otherwise unpleasant task into something fun. As he says, “my daughter’s playful act interpreted her situation as much as my attempt to rush us through it did. While I was only focused on the goal, she managed to attend to the process” ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyatr65gtq5zp72vt8dx3x5x)) > The difference between Bogost and his daughter was a matter of attention—by attending to the activity itself, rather than the goal, she could turn the activity into a form of play. Ultimately ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyatsg597vcg81x41qja6hc1)) > Finally, Thi Nguyen’s (2020) recent account of the value of games offers a key insight to the attitudinal nature of play. Nguyen spells out a detailed picture of how players take on different goals, shifting attitudes as the demands of play shift. Nguyen offers a rich theory that has a number of aims. He argues that games are an artform (2020: 1-3), that the medium of games is *agency* (ibid.: 14-15),[20](private://read/01hyaj97rwg93m58b0vzk48x6y/#note_20) that games provide players with a “library” of different forms of agency (ibid.: 78-83), and that the motivational structure of games can be exploited in sometimes harmful ways (ibid.: 189-215). These claims are fascinating; however, I will briefly draw attention to one part of Nguyen’s account of a player’s psychology. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyattpvpeea4edezddvfcqc3)) > Nguyen identifies a fundamental distinction in what he calls two “modes of play” (ibid.: 8). Sometimes we play to win. When this happens, our purpose in playing is aligned with the goal of the game. Nguyen calls this “achievement play”. At other times, we set aside the goal of winning in order to enjoy some aspect of the game. For instance, in an open-world video game, I might go looking for random encounters just because I like the battles. While winning these encounters provides some experience and loot, that might not be my motivation. My motivation is to enjoy the battle. In an odd way, winning the battle too quickly can be a disappointment. I might draw out the game, by perhaps playing on a higher difficulty setting or by using only sub-optimal weapons and armor, thus making the battles longer, more exciting, and more dangerous. Nguyen calls this “striving play” (ibid.: 9). In striving play, my purpose in playing does not align with the goal of winning. Nguyen describes this as a “motivational inversion”. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyatw5r96rd6mcyfvb6gt9dm)) > There are many cases where players handicap themselves in order to give weaker or inexperienced players a fighting chance. When parents play games against their children, the aim is not to crush them. The aim is to teach them how the game works, help them develop the skills to play well, and to enjoy spending time with them. When I play *Mario Kart 8* against my daughter, I impose additional rules and limitations on myself in order to extend our gameplay further. I will avoid sliding and drifting, which denies me a speed boost; and, I do not use red shells on her, though green shells are fair game. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyatyq4wjfbhxvh79n05p05j)) > First, game playing is an activity that is formally similar to many other kinds of activities (like working, traveling, studying), but can only be distinguished from these activities by referring to the player’s mental state. For Caillois, the amateur player who seeks no extrinsic reward is *playing*, while the professional athlete who cares only about the prize money is *working*, but both might perform what are formally identical actions (2001 ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyatzp5w1es1vy8cxpk27g77)) > Or think of Bogost’s point that anything can become play by focusing on the process rather than the objective. Second, there are different ways of playing a game. An external observer watching you play cannot tell whether you are (e.g.) an achievement player or a striving player, or a professional athlete who is just working. From the outside, these all look the same. The difference between each is still important one, but it is a difference that can only be described by referring to the players’ attitudes. Finally, players can freely and willfully switch from *playing* to *not-playing*, or from *achievement play* to *striving play*, or from *playing* to *working*. “One plays only if and when one wishes to” (Caillois 2001: 7). ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyav09cy3gmxfam5qvtzg5xv)) > A further subtlety here is that many in-game goals feature a *compound reward system*. When I complete a side-quest, I do not receive just one reward, but a package of rewards. I get some experience points, some loot, maybe an unlockable item, or I might open up new dialogue options or storylines. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyav4z2csqcb7923z2ns8rp9)) > The second distinctive feature of goal-seeking play is that it is governed by means-ends reasoning. The player’s choices in the game are determined by their reasoning about how best to achieve their goals. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyav8rtdg92f10srvqj0wp1y)) > My reasoning always follows this pattern in goal-seeking play: I accept a particular goal and then I figure out the best way of doing it. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyav9n7jsk0vqgby4bj2z95k)) > This thought is very common. There are many philosophers and games theorists who take this approach, believing that what we do with a game is governed by certain norms, that those norms are partly the results of the game designer’s intentions, and those intentions are built into the game itself.[25](private://read/01hyaj97rwg93m58b0vzk48x6y/#note_25) We can describe this as the *ontological approach*: that what we do with a game is built into the very structure of the game itself. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyawb03kpkjkxffqjjfrmjc7)) > When Bogost and Juul talk about casual games, they seem to adopt this kind of ontological approach. For Bogost, “Facebook games” have certain essential qualities built into them—they are designed to be compulsive. For Juul, the difference between games of skill, games of chance, and games of labor is built into the demands that these games place on the player. Those demands are independent of the player’s intentions. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyawbgar934ctnjca7xpdt4m)) > But, I think there are a few good reasons to prefer an attitudinal account, rather than an ontological account. One reason is that, if we adopt an ontological account, then lots of games are hard to classify. What category of game is *Minecraft*? The ultimate goal is—apparently—to beat the Ender Dragon, but most players don’t bother with that. Are those players therefore “playing it wrong”? That seems unnecessarily restrictive. Or, even better, exactly what category of game is *World of Warcraft*? It has no ending. It is really just a world of side-quests. These games are hard to classify because they clearly offer many different types of play, some goal-seeking, some narrative, and some dollhouse. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyawbxh6bsxdhma52426ny10)) > Another reason to prefer the attitudinal account is that game players can be very creative at finding ways to play how they want to. Regardless of the game designer’s intentions, gamers will co-opt a game and do whatever they want with it. Gamers tend to be very willful. For instance, *Stardew Valley* was ostensibly designed to be a non-competitive farming game, yet some players speedrun it competitively. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyawcb50bqygt17avpcs83js)) > The most important reason to prefer the attitudinal account over the ontological account, in my view, is that the attitudinal account better helps us to understand what the player is doing. At any particular moment in a game, I am either working toward some goal, or engaging with the game’s narrative, or merely playing with a digital doll. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyawd2cj36drse1w1796bbxr)) > Some games are designed to appeal to just one specific play attitude exclusively. *Tetris* is designed for goal-seeking play. There is no story to engage with, nor any opportunity to engage in dollhouse play. It resists being played any other way. *That Dragon, Cancer* is a narrative game designed to lead the player through a harrowing story. There is no winning the game and the player cannot deviate from the story to engage in their own imaginative play. Finally, *Proteus* is an experimental, artistic game that is designed entirely for dollhouse play. There is nothing that the player has to do and no story to engage with. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyawerk3g0nvc85bbd28bg0r)) > What the player is supposed to do with a game is built into the code or the algorithm. So, whatever differences there are between goal-seeking play, narrative play, and dollhouse play are differences that can be found in the game itself. These differences have nothing to do with the player’s psychology. So, this talk about “attitudes” is unhelpful. ([View Highlight](https://read.readwise.io/read/01hyb2drq0kh1v9pp9ga21ny0d))