2026-02-05
A short essay about the stagnation of game design, the comfort of the familiar, and the trouble with theoretical thinking.
None of you have been designing games. We forgot how to design games half a decade ago. The affects of this are only just catching up to us.
The trouble with modern theories is they have not had enough time to gestate in our historical psych. Wired by the internet, we cannot unhear a new idea. After a month, anyone online knows about the latest something.
It is no coincidence that as games became economically interesting to the market, so did they become pervasive, and so did they become more reasonable topics of discussion. Playing a game and making games costs in money or time, which are the convertible units. As games spread wealth, so did wealth spread games. People could commit their time to further creation in the hopes of an affordable payout.
When enough artifacts are created, a study is born. Ludology is the theory of play. Its history starts as far back as chess. Corrected for population size, there are more game design studies and theorists than there ever have been because there are more games than there ever have been.
The best sources to learn about game design are the ones that talk extensively about game history. We should not be inspired by the position of history but by the velocity of history. Recreating the position of history is nostalgia-based design. Recreating the velocity of history is change-based design.
There a no moments in history when ludology has advanced our game design. ‘Advancing’ is to move the agreed definition of game and design into a new space. ‘New’ means previously unconsidered or overlooked or inaccessible.
Part of this is the curse of modern abstract thinking. It is pleasant to capture complex systems into simplified definitions – for good reasons we do this. Because it is pleasant, we should be aware that the gradient to access this style of thinking is easier then, say, other styles.
In all cases it is harder to build a new game experience than it is to theorize about a new game experience. This is without exception. This is the curse of ludology.
This is the curse of writing essays, too. Essays, stories, theories, these guide us, remind us, inspire us. They provide abstract dreams for abstract futures. They do not make new games and rarely solve new problems.
I love stories. I require of the games I play that they have a good story.
The pain of realizing we have not been designing games is the same pain as realizing our immaturity a decade ago. When we leave home for the first time, we believe we know the world. When we reflect on our past self, moments of embarrassment are important. This trend continues until we are old and die.
The remedy is to make it harder for yourself to make games. In other words, accept that you have been seeking comfort. Point out your comforts to yourself. What have you been avoiding? Why? Here lies the boundary of your creative limits. Here is where game design stops. If you can subsume that boundary, by definition you have expanded your definition of a game. Done enough times, someone, somewhere, progresses game design.
Recombination is not a path forward. Recombination is usually not uncomfortable and if it is not uncomfortable it is not near your boundaries. Some fortunate people do not feel uncomfortable when facing their boundaries, but they are rare. These people will appear before us as fording new paths with full breaths and shining eyes. One way to explore widely is to follow new, early paths. Keep your judgment primed.
Very few classical games are good. Just as very few old books are classics. The books that are exceptional survive history. The games that are exceptional do the same. Something that is classical had exceptional foresight and velocity. What was created was in orbital-distances relative to the world at the time. It can take a century for the boundary of the human psyche to catch-up.
A good mantra: whatever we make now will at some point be history, therefore our practices and technology now will at some point be the past.
This should not be taken in a fatalist or totalitarian way. In other words, do not let this make you futile. The hardest part is not choosing the position but choosing the direction – the velocity. Many people that choose large velocities, in doing so create enormous heights to fall from. The few that succeed create classics.
If what you are doing now will eventually be old, then when should you stop doing it? There is no perfect ratio between what should be uncomfortable and what should be comfortable. One thing is true: this number should not be zero. A good way to discover what is uncomfortable is to write down your strongest opinions or beliefs, then imagine yourself doing something to violate them.
How do we violate our own strongest opinions or beliefs? The worst lie is that we can do this alone. Approach situations where people will violate them for you. That means talking to people building things you find uncomfortable. You will very likely come away with a new perspective and a new learning, if you have listened.
When did we stop designing games? When we created a large enough boundary to encompass a critical mass of people that our comforts were self-fulfilling. The number of well-worn paths in game design land is plenty, and they are cursed with beautiful vistas and colorful, abundant life. On these paths we meet people that agree with us, that share most of our opinions. We have seen the same thing enough times that we are magnetized to it not by interest but by habit.
Seek out uncomfortable conversations. Then go back to designing games. You won’t even realize your work will be pulling everyone out of history and into the future.