It was fine when it was only a few games. Assassin's Creed, scratching that OCD itch with meaningless collectibles. RPG elements popping up in a couple of games here and there. Then it escalated. The buzz words started to infect series that had no business including them. Darksiders 2. Far Cry 3. Dead Space 3. Every first person shooter since MW1. And many, many others.
This is a disease with many symptoms:
And more.
These features can add a lot of depth to a game. They can significantly enhance your immersion and sense of realism. They did, and still do, sometimes. When they fit into the theme of the game and feel natural in the context of the world. The problem is when they automatically become associated with FUN, and thus start appearing on game boxes with little checkmarks next to them. "Crafting? Yep, we've got that. XP? Yep, that too. What game is this, you ask? Does it matter? YOU CAN PUT A SNIPER SCOPE ON THIS SHOTGUN." +100 000 sales?
They can be meaningless busywork, designed to make you check a menu every five minutes to make sure those LISTS keep getting shorter. You do the same thing over and over, each time making a little bar climb, a number increase. You're doing it because you're a rat in a Skinner box, mindlessly pressing that button to get your empty reward. Walking around with your silly littly radar, collecting scrap, in the middle of the most horrible, nightmarish scenario you can imagine. Jumping in an abandoned jeep when suddenly the screen goes black, a timer appears in the corner, flares magically rise out of the ground. RACE TO THE FINISH LINE TO DELIVER THE SUPPLIES TO THE NATIVES. Is the game automatically better because of that detachable sniper scope? Because you can take this box, run to the other end of the world, give it to the man in the shed and collect $500? Because you have 30 abilities locked behind little icons, waiting for you to kill 157 enemies before you can learn how to climb a tree? Apparently so. The core is forgotten, content is king.
This is not simply a matter of "just don't do it if you don't like it." I am the gamer, not the game developer. It's not my job to filter the content, to create the game I want by laboriously whittling it down to its most enjoyable parts. But let's say I do. Let's say I decide that I will do a, b, and c, but not d, e, and f. That's still not enough. Because in every facet of the game design, the philosophy of "more content, less meaning" seeps through the cracks and it doesn't just affect the parts I don't like, it affects the game as a whole. "Helpful" text will pop up. Loot will emerge from chests in colorful explosions. Environment design will be tailored to the underlying gameplay systems. Difficulty will be balanced with the dutiful content consumer in mind. And, perhaps most importantly, immersion will suffer. This is not a believable world anymore, this is a theme park, stuffed to the brim with padding.
This is a disease with many symptoms:
- Collectibles
- Loot
- XP
- Crafting
- Sidequests
- Unlockables
And more.
These features can add a lot of depth to a game. They can significantly enhance your immersion and sense of realism. They did, and still do, sometimes. When they fit into the theme of the game and feel natural in the context of the world. The problem is when they automatically become associated with FUN, and thus start appearing on game boxes with little checkmarks next to them. "Crafting? Yep, we've got that. XP? Yep, that too. What game is this, you ask? Does it matter? YOU CAN PUT A SNIPER SCOPE ON THIS SHOTGUN." +100 000 sales?
They can be meaningless busywork, designed to make you check a menu every five minutes to make sure those LISTS keep getting shorter. You do the same thing over and over, each time making a little bar climb, a number increase. You're doing it because you're a rat in a Skinner box, mindlessly pressing that button to get your empty reward. Walking around with your silly littly radar, collecting scrap, in the middle of the most horrible, nightmarish scenario you can imagine. Jumping in an abandoned jeep when suddenly the screen goes black, a timer appears in the corner, flares magically rise out of the ground. RACE TO THE FINISH LINE TO DELIVER THE SUPPLIES TO THE NATIVES. Is the game automatically better because of that detachable sniper scope? Because you can take this box, run to the other end of the world, give it to the man in the shed and collect $500? Because you have 30 abilities locked behind little icons, waiting for you to kill 157 enemies before you can learn how to climb a tree? Apparently so. The core is forgotten, content is king.
This is not simply a matter of "just don't do it if you don't like it." I am the gamer, not the game developer. It's not my job to filter the content, to create the game I want by laboriously whittling it down to its most enjoyable parts. But let's say I do. Let's say I decide that I will do a, b, and c, but not d, e, and f. That's still not enough. Because in every facet of the game design, the philosophy of "more content, less meaning" seeps through the cracks and it doesn't just affect the parts I don't like, it affects the game as a whole. "Helpful" text will pop up. Loot will emerge from chests in colorful explosions. Environment design will be tailored to the underlying gameplay systems. Difficulty will be balanced with the dutiful content consumer in mind. And, perhaps most importantly, immersion will suffer. This is not a believable world anymore, this is a theme park, stuffed to the brim with padding.
