I like video games. I like them a lot. Maybe a little too much.
In a summer that’s been sporadically cold and rainy, it’s been a little too easy to stay indoors and conquer the post-apocalyptic wasteland and a little too hard to go out and actually do something. Something like – I don’t know – see my friends or exercise.
Paul Martiquet, in his Health Matters column in last week’s paper, discussed getting kids to go outside and play as opposed to staying inside and marinating in front of the television. When I first read it, I thought, “Shut up, Paul, Gotham needs me!”
But he’s right. He’s right. Playing outside is so much more satisfying than playing in the digital world.
I’m not trying to bash video games here. I think they’re great – I’m certainly not going to stop playing them. In fact, there’s an argument to be made that video games can help you navigate the digital landscape more intuitively.
Think about this: have you ever updated your operating system and asked yourself, “What the @#$% happened to all my applications?”
Well, every game has a different menu screen, and each one has to be learned in order to play the game. Often it has to be learned while taking enemy fire, which may be virtual, but it is an added stressor. Not to mention the fact that every game has different controls, camera angles, controller sensitivity, in-game physics and elastic reality for what seemingly benign objects might kill you. Also glitches.
If you get comfortable adapting to new digital environments on a regular basis, it gets easier to find your way around a new and confusing operating system when you have to do it in real(ish) life. Like when Apple “updates” iTunes for no reason.
Here’s the thing, though. Do I remember even half of the dozens of hours I’ve invested into just one of my many play throughs? No, I don’t.
But do I remember last weekend when a group of my friends and I went up to Thormanby Island and got lost after bush-whacking our way out of the forest and onto a rocky beach that none of us had seen before? Yes, I remember it vividly because a) it was awesome and b) in order to get back onto the trail home, we had to build a raft out of driftwood and ferry our bags to the next beach over where the trail started. It was just like the kind of stuff I barely remember doing in virtual reality.
Again, this isn’t a criticism of video games. I think they have a valuable place in society and I don’t think they’re going anywhere. That being said, the virtual world isn’t a replacement for real life adventure. You just need to find a balance for both.
