I've never worked in a restaurant, but I can guess a question that no waiter wants to hear: "How spicy is it?" Um... well... medium? Everyone's different. If you eat spicy food regularly, you develop more of a tolerance for it, and there are apparently genetic factors in play too. So neither the waiter nor the diner are in a good position to answer that question.
Likewise, try asking a game developer, "Is it hard?" The problem is that I don't know how much time you've spent with games, how coordinated you were to begin with, or how much of a tolerance you have for frustration. For some people, a super-punishing game is like the endorphin rush of chomping down on a habanero. For others, it's more like the screaming pain of, uh, chomping down on a habanero.
Likewise, try asking a game developer, "Is it hard?" The problem is that I don't know how much time you've spent with games, how coordinated you were to begin with, or how much of a tolerance you have for frustration. For some people, a super-punishing game is like the endorphin rush of chomping down on a habanero. For others, it's more like the screaming pain of, uh, chomping down on a habanero.
I grew up in an era where the content of games itself was often more challenge than anything else. Coming out of a competitive arcade culture, players in the '80s were used to games that pushed back. But moreover, developers with limited resources could deliver a more substantial experience by fighting your every move tooth and nail. Once you know how to do it, you can beat the original Ninja Gaiden and Castlevania in 20 minutes each, but getting to that point could take months or years. I will never forget the night in ninth grade that Mike Brownell and I committed to beating Ninja Gaiden, consumed a grocery bag full of Nescafe and Pop Tarts, and hurled ourselves at Level 6-2 until 4 AM, finally giving up almost in tears. (The internet was a little slip of a thing back then, so we didn't know that it was one of the most notorious levels in game history.) Since then, of course, the business of games has grown a lot, so you can pile a lot more non-challenge-based stuff into a game and not have the challenge need to carry so much weight.
There's all kinds of macho posturing now from old-school types about how games today are too easy... and I'm completely on board with it. No, I kid--I find "git gud" machismo as off-putting as all the other kinds. But I do feel that when a game doesn't have enough challenge, it kind of slips through your fingers. The lows may be higher (you don't get as frustrated), but the highs are lower (it's not very gratifying to win if you didn't have to do anything), and that's not very exciting. It kind of feels like chewing your bovine way through a wad of flavorless gruel.
So I think games need a certain degree of resistance. At the same time, I've never had any interest in making games that are just punitive or sadistic--the point is still to have fun! It's just that different people have different ideas of fun, and that's tricky.
There's all kinds of macho posturing now from old-school types about how games today are too easy... and I'm completely on board with it. No, I kid--I find "git gud" machismo as off-putting as all the other kinds. But I do feel that when a game doesn't have enough challenge, it kind of slips through your fingers. The lows may be higher (you don't get as frustrated), but the highs are lower (it's not very gratifying to win if you didn't have to do anything), and that's not very exciting. It kind of feels like chewing your bovine way through a wad of flavorless gruel.
So I think games need a certain degree of resistance. At the same time, I've never had any interest in making games that are just punitive or sadistic--the point is still to have fun! It's just that different people have different ideas of fun, and that's tricky.
The best solution is, of course, to have people test it. And to extend the metaphor, there's a hand-pulled noodle restaurant here in New York that answers the "how spicy is it" question exactly that way: they've got a chart on the menu that tells you what percentage of people order which level of spiciness, so if you have a sense of where you are in the general population as far as spice tolerance, you can guess at what's right for you.
When you're developing a game, you'll play it to the point of mastery and then some, and you'll completely lose your reference point for what others will find difficult. Nothing is more illuminating than watching someone play your game for the first time. They will find amazing new kinds of incompetence that you never even thought were possible, and it will blow your mind; then you can adjust accordingly.
When you're developing a game, you'll play it to the point of mastery and then some, and you'll completely lose your reference point for what others will find difficult. Nothing is more illuminating than watching someone play your game for the first time. They will find amazing new kinds of incompetence that you never even thought were possible, and it will blow your mind; then you can adjust accordingly.
But while you can make those adjustments, a game will always be too hard for some and too easy for others. When I released Satellina, half of the players I heard from told me it was impossible, and the other half said they beat it in half an hour--and why was it so short?
To me, the best you can do is keep the challenge high (and satisfying) while trying to mitigate the frustration. Aren't those two things inextricably coupled? Well, coupled, yes, but inextricably, no. Maybe the metaphor is, you can serve some goddamn spicy food, as long as you put a nice glass of coconut milk next to the plate. (OK, I'll stop.) I'll be back with a few thoughts on how to do that next week. Thanks for reading!
To me, the best you can do is keep the challenge high (and satisfying) while trying to mitigate the frustration. Aren't those two things inextricably coupled? Well, coupled, yes, but inextricably, no. Maybe the metaphor is, you can serve some goddamn spicy food, as long as you put a nice glass of coconut milk next to the plate. (OK, I'll stop.) I'll be back with a few thoughts on how to do that next week. Thanks for reading!