Archive for January, 2011

Before we get too far, we need to make one thing abundantly clear: We have no idea who you are or why you’re here right now. Yes, analytics help and, yes, we have an idea you possibly followed a tweet. We aren’t talking about that, though.

That isn’t to say we don’t want to know you and prefer you leave—we’re pleased as punch you’ve read this much—rather, the handy dandy tools available these days to marketers, advertisers, and Baxters alike do about as good a job as Picasso at accurately and deeply portraying, well, anyone. They ignore completely (or, at best, represent abstractly) the roles personality and motivation play in guiding human behavior.

Avid game designers and players know the power of compelling stories, and that people play games throughout life. We humbly want to encourage the demographers, ethnographers, and all you other “-ographers” out there to find the stories people are living. Right now. We’ll wait while you check.

No matter how sophisticated the method, analysis or doohickey-of-the-month, Science takes us only so far into the pits of human motivation.

Yes, you can scan our brains all day as we watch cartoons and Top Chef reruns, or respond to loaded questions in unnatural focus groups, and see how different regions twinkle like a shorted out Lite Brite, but you can’t measure our feelings. The experience belongs to us and us alone.

But, you can relate. That’s why you spent good money to rent the fMRI machine in the first place, right?

Sensibility to the Rescue

Since the time we thought we knew it all, we have defined our lives, our world, and our interactions through stories. Even today, expression reigns supreme.

Countless as they are, our telling and retelling of stories tugs our primal genes and guides our lives, instinctively tapping into our inherited unconscious psyche. In other words, we haven’t changed that much over time. Your great great great grandparents lived in a vibrant, lush world (no matter what the black-and-white photos show).

We attempt to reconcile the unknown with the known in a complex version of Labyrinth; keep the ball out of the traps long enough and the solution will eventually make sense. And after enough experience, of repeatedly failing and retrying, we master the task—which isn’t the same as perfecting it—and continue our journey.

And as our civilization advances, so do our stories. Don’t they?

Behold, the Archetype

Roused by the archetypal psychology work of Carl G. Jung, gurus traipse the globe helping companies and organizations understand this very important principle: Character is key and it transcends culture. Lovers in Barcelona are more similar to lovers in Walla Walla than you think.

A lover, for example, cannot merely say the words a lover says in order to woo the object of their affection. They must be love, oozing it from every sappy pore on their amorous little body. And once they’ve done that, they do it some more.

If, after an unsuccessful poetry reading outside their muse’s window they realize s/he has a thing for “rebels”, and they ditch the shtick for a leather jacket and switchblade, they’ll be seen as desperate, a fake.

Commitment matters, sure, but integrity matters more.

In the immortal words of John Locke (the philosopher, not the smoke monster), “The discipline of desire is the background of character.”

Think of all the characters you know: the ornery grandmother whose wisdom feels practical and timeless, the plucky college graduate out to change the world, the office flirt looking for a little fun, or the middle-aged father of two who decides it time to lead the life he never had, but always wanted.

Here Today, Gone Today

In short, people are only moments in time. We live out the archetypes at play in our minds right now, and how we experience the world has little to do with annual salary, owning a home, or making an fMRI display turn green instead of blue. As such, games offer inroads to these archetypes aplenty.

We’ll continue this in another post, but until then, what’s your story, what brought you here, and why are you still reading?

Lookie here, Gamification, you’ve really grown! There was a time when you were considered “kid’s stuff” and “frivolous,” but now you’re a part of innovation processes, enterprise learning tools, and corporate strategies. Yeah, you’ve got that kind of chocolatey-looking mustache going on and everything.

But before we’ll let you borrow the family Camaro, we’ve got to have a talk.

Yes, you do feedback really well. You provide that same psychological nudge that pushes a runner from .9 miles to 1.0 on the treadmill, and instills the same sense of urgency as an hourglass. And by entangling that feedback with ritual play and social motivators, experiences that — OH CRAP I HAVE TO GO PLAY FARMVILLE.

But you can and must do so much more in order to really leverage the power of organized play. Listen, we know you don’t need a lecture. You already have some way smart people nurturing you out of your awkward adolescence. We just want to help.

Remember Jesse Owens? Sure you do. In the 1936 Olympics in Berlin, he ran right past Hitler and yanked off both sides of his mustache. Remember his time in the 100m dash? We didn’t think so. As Bob Costas will tell you, in the game-within-a-game-within-a-sponsorship opportunity that is the Olympics, the human narrative is the thing that engages, resonates, and persists. So consider this the next time you swing your Gamification hammer:

1. The Story is the Thing

Brands that tell stories are easier to love, easier to evangelize, and easier to forgive. And games that tell stories are better designed to elicit authentic curiosity and emotional investment (not just collecting obsession). Now, does every gameplay experience require a ten-thousand-year creation myth? Of course not. But how can a gameplay experience tell the story behind a mysterious tattoo – rather than leaning on the tattoo itself for meaning?

You see, Gamification? We only want the best for you.

Now, we know you like to think of yourself as the life of the party. You may say to yourself “hey hey, when I show up, I bring the play and that brings the engagement.” But chances are, whatever website or process or product you’re fixin’ to gamify already has scores of people deeply engaged in gaming it. Heck, you might be downright redundant. Shopping is already a game. Parking is already a game. Pretending to be busy while Bill Lumbergh trolls the office? You get the picture. What we’re saying is …

2. People are Already Playing

We know that people have a predisposition for play. Ever heard of Homo Ludens? Stop giggling. Couple that with the incredible lengths that people already go to in order to hack systems, bend rules, and shirk duties. Please stop giggling. See, we think the best games are emergent, not foisted upon systems. And that if you really wanted to be the life of the party you’d make more rewarding the game that’s already there.

You’re a smart kid, Gamification, but we need to know we’re on the same page.

There’s no doubt you’ll be seen around more and more as you grow up, so it’s important that you realize that people will be influenced by you, for better or worse. While it’s points and badges today, curly-haired folks smarter than us feel that games can and will address major problems within our society. Do you think a few trivial badges will do it? Nope. The real power of games comes from the way that they organize forces and interests, frame experiences, and encourage strategic discovery. Yep,

3. Games Can do Difficult, Meaningful Work.

What? At the first mention of “difficult work” you’re turned off? Did you think you’d get by slinging virtual burgers your whole life? Gamification, I guess I expected a little more from you.

Why can’t you be more like your brother, Applied Gaming?