Unhelpful

This article was adapted from a post I wrote which was originally part of the discussion thread in reference to an article about the militarization - literally - of videogames. This response, and the article it addressed, appeared on slownewsday.net, a site I’ve created content for from time to time.

Videogaming and war have a history together that goes back to the Roman days. OK, so it only goes back to 1958, the birth of the videogame.

Atari’s 1980 vector-graphic arcade hit Battlezone was the first videogame to pique the military’s interest. Atari was commissioned to make, for the Department of Defense Advanced Research Project Agency (DARPA), a modified version of its quarter-eating smash success for use in tank simluation. Ever since then, commercial games have spawned “dual use” hybrids. Military flight simulators have spawned commercial products, and commercial flight simulators have spawned military products. Every major FPS since Doom has been used for wargaming scenarios in official military training. Janes, that reliable name in military equipment specification trivia, has lent its own name to a series of entertainment spinoffs.

Of course, the computer industry itself owes a tremendous debt to the military-industrial complex, as it proved to be the driving force in the very early days mainframe and minicomputer development. ENIAC is the spiritual grandfather of the Sony PS2. The internet itself sprung from the loins of the very same marriage of DoD war planning and computer technology which later went on to spawn the militarized version of Battlezone.

Mind you, I’m not arguing that we should glorify the military because of its participation in the computer and videogaming industries. I personally find it appropriate that development in defense projects has actually managed to help bring forth products which spur projects that are helpful to everyone, rather than just the eschelons of military power. Rather than a demonstration of the virtue of military spending, I consider the long-term payoff of early investment into electronic number crunching a demonstration of the value of funding real science without regard for immediate commercial application. Sadly, our industry and government generally wait until we have a pressing immediate need before we put money into long-range research and development.

Videogames can also a wonderful educational tool, no matter what the lesson. UO is an excellent demonstration of artificial economies. M.U.L.E. is a classic simulation of the basic principles of supply and demand - as easy as it is for kids to learn, as fun as it is for older gamers to play, and as educational as it is, it should be required to be shipped with every OS. Lunar Lander is a bite sized introduction to Newtonian physics. Countless business sims exist, from the lowly “lemonade stand” game written in some 8-bit platform’s primitive BASIC to Sim Theme Park. Hell, many formerly high-interest tech stocks are cheap enough that for the price of a videogame, you can buy the real thing instead of a simulation and watch with baited breath as you watch $30.00 turn into $23.91 because Alan Greenspan was seen eating a Greek salad with black olives rather than green. Balance of Power remains a sober lesson about Cold War politics. A generation of gamers learned to gamble at the hands of Strip Poker for the Commodore 64. I, for one, worry about the future of poker, as the ready access to free internet pornography has eliminated the best motivator ever invented for the learning of the king of card games.

And of course, videogames can teach war strategy. Mind you, they can also teach the futility of militarism. I remember playing Cannon Fodder on the Amiga in the very early 90s. I was in the military at the time - doing my part to practice my belief that the military should have its share of pacificts, liberals, and consciencious objectors to keep it honest - sometimes I’d be playing in my work clothes: camoflage fatigues. Cannon Fodder is extremely entertaining on its own merits, but it was a wonderful lesson, as well. I remember going through several levels without losing any of my soldiers - their names were displayed to the left of the screen, with a little rank icon, which went up after successful missions. I was doing well. Then I got to a particularly difficult level. Two of my three soldiers died. Little memorial plaques were shown after the mission, and I noticed on the hill in the background of the between-missions screen that there were now two little crosses. It was kinda sad, really; I knew the soldiers by name, and had become familiar and comfortable with them. The cuteness of the characters in the game made them easy to identify with and cheer for. After each level, more characters form a line behind a military truck to be turned from civilians into recruits. So along with one veteran soldier, I had a few fresh faces. Again, I went through a few more levels and did well, then ran into adversity again. Rinse, repeat.

After a couple of hours of gaming, the body count was skyrocketing, and I was going through recruits like crazy. After one particularly grizzly level, I sat back and took a rest. It occurred to me that I didn’t even know the names or ranks of the current soldiers in my squad, and that I had become so inured to to the churn of recruitment, that I no longer felt that connection to their little names and ranks on the left: that part of the game had become unimportant and I ceased to identify with the characters. I thought about the implications of this, and chills went up my spine.

I looked at the inter-level screen again, and for the first time, it really registered to me that the hill was now chock full of crosses. They were competing with the very grass for space.

Ultimately, the loss of characters had become less ‘personal’ and less sad and more of a minor inconvenience. The old soldiers had to be replaced with with new recruits, and it happened more and more frequently as the game progressed. They had become cannon fodder.

It was the most powerful and educational anti-war statement I’d ever experienced in the realm of electronic communications and entertainment.

Comments?