Game Design Theory

With every branching path within the creative current of art, there will always exist some abnormalities. Whether if they branch off slightly or radically, whether their flow is more smooth or sporadic, or even if one stream connects with another at a later point, every created work brought about from our collective conscious flows within this unified current. To put this into the perspective of visual media: the one main channel (or goal) within game design is to create a compelling and interesting game that people want to play. Within this main stream, however, millions of diverse diversions begin to emerge. One company might branch off to create the next top horror genre; the next off for pixelated storytelling. No matter the idea, this stream is ever flowing, constantly replenished by the collective effort of every creator existing within it. And it’s with these thoughts in mind that I would like to present a ripple to this pond, so to speak: the existence of a Golden Age, or an era wherein the speed and flow of these channels is as its most rapid–its most efficient. It’s within this era that the public sees the most diversity within title releases, game concepts, and every other aspect within game design.

Within today’s timeline, a myriad of arguments can be made for exactly what time period this acclaimed “Golden Age” applies to. The claim most commonly heard of within the general public is that this age falls somewhere between the late eighty’s and early two-thousands. Along with several other aspects of everyday life, visual entertainment too saw a boom in vitality and enlightenment as creators around the world gathered the resources and motivation to create stunningly unique titles like Super Metroid, Mortal Kombat, Final Fantasy, Wolfenstein 3D, DOOM, among so many others. Others, however, claim this Golden Age occurred much later in the history of video games; toward the newest decade with the release of Virtual and (higher quality) Augmented Reality games–Just In Time Inc. and Pokemon GO as respective examples. While another shred of public opinion supports the claim that the Golden Age was long past, that it had occurred alongside the release and revamping of arcade cabinets and their best-selling titles.

If I may present a perspective that is admittedly rather unorthodox in nature: any history does not always have to be bound to only one Golden Age. Sure the advancements made with arcade cabinets were revolutionary for their time, and ushered in an all but unknown and new era for the public, but the first and second waves of three-dimensional rendering as well as the flood of augmented and virtual reality games had the same effect and pull to them. It’s foolish to deny the claim that any one age within its history was the best or brightest, but it is equally folly to assume the apex can be reached at only one point in a concept’s entire history.

I hope you enjoyed this shorter entry into the history of video games. Next time I hope to address two specific games I had made mention of in a post prior to this one: Tron and the very first Super Mario Bros. Until then, I hope you have a great rest of your day!

As always, cheers,

-Ethan

Welcome back to Game Design Theory! In today’s entry we’re going to address two fundamental cornerstones of the early video game world–William Higinbotham’s “Tennis For Two” and Atari’s “Pong”, and how both titles help shaped the first public opinions regarding video games and visual entertainment media. From science experiments to revolutionary business pitches, it would not be too far-fetched to say the world of video games today owes their existence and strong foothold in the hearts of the modern society to the founding titans of the industry: William Higinbotham and the father of all video games, Ralph Baer.

As its been mentioned earlier in this blog, Tennis for Two is known as the first visual media game ever created, but not the first to be released to the public. Built with an oscilloscope display, each player could control an electron beam (projected from a cathode ray) with a push of a button as it travels across the electronic display–over onto the other player’s “field”, allowing the other player to reciprocate. The only drawback to this simplistic design was the fact that there was no way to keep score on the screen; seeing as how the entire game was displayed with two lines and a dot. Players would have needed to keep track of their scores in another way, perhaps by pen and paper or a third party referee. Regardless, this simulation was never meant to be released to the public in any other light but as a science experiment and therefore, the original copy of this game has been long lost or destroyed due to the vast passage of time. In the minimal light this simulation did receive however, it was widely positive. William Higinbotham’s goal with creating Tennis For Two was simply to liven up the banal and straightforward mentalities science fairs and other gathers tended to have, even still to this day. With interactive and entertaining exhibits, it sparks a fire of interest within the visitors–both young and old, given the right trigger–and leaves a lasting impression within them long after the activity or faire has ended. It’s a shame the original version of the game was lost to time, but luckily as the saying goes, great minds think alike.

From the minds of Nolan Bushnell, Bruno Bonnell, and Ted Dabney, the Atari was born in 1972. While it took a couple of decades to catch up with the minds of Higginbotham, their entry into the iconic system, Pong, even further revolutionized the video game society and industry. Eventually, Pong reached a level of success that required two different versions; the arcade brand, and the home-system variety. The arcade version of Pong was often regarded as one of the first arcade systems to require a quarter for entry, rather than a simple penny back in the day (imagine what the creators of Pong or Tennis For Two would think about full priced, $60 AAA quality games…). Unlike other arcade systems, there was no other written instructions before the introduction or on any of the sides of the physical machine except the words “avoid missing ball for high score” written before the title screen. As revolutionary of an idea as it was thought to be however, that sentiment was not shared with everyone. Upper management at Bally Manufacturing Corporation were the first to reject the initial premise of Pong and disbelieve its supposed profit margins from one machine in just a few weeks within a bar. The producers of Pong, Nolan Bushnell and Ted Dabney, initially sought to introduce Pong to the home entertainment system by allowing players to experience the game through a television screen, but for whatever reason, the manufacturing company refused. Regardless, the two retreated back into brainstorming and through several years and a string of lawsuits from the company Atari later, the game Pong was a fully realized, licensed, and produced game on the Atari home entertainment systems in 1972.

I really hope you enjoyed this weeks inclusions into the history of game design. Tune in next week where I continue to address some of the first public opinions regarding video games and visual media, as well as travel further through the scope of technical history. Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a great rest of your day!

Cheers,

Ethan

It seems in the everyday lives of this modern day and age, the amount of families that have seen at least one video game console pass through their homes has skyrocketed exponentially. Even with mobile gaming–apps like Temple Run, Pocket God, and Puzzle and Dragons–today’s youth has no shortage of opportunities when it comes to these kinds of enlightening experiences. As hard as it is to believe though, this wasn’t always the case. Back in the early 1950s–back before the Game Boys and the Console Wars, the NES and Sega Genesis–the only use visual technology really had was for dissertation research or a one-time demonstration for an annual visitor’s day. The very conception of electronically visual entertainment was only ever delved into for works in science fiction and fantasy and yet, people like A.S. Douglas (creator of OXO) and William Higinbotham (creator of Tennis for Two) walked so authors and publishers today could stride. That brings us to our topic today: how exactly did video games and visual media transfer from the realms of experimental science to everyday home entertainment, and how was this trend marketed to sell more to the general public?

Often and rightfully regarded as the “father of video games”, Ralph Baer was instrumental in the creation of what he called the “Brown Box”, later rebranded as the Magnavox Odyssey in 1972. This system was designed with a vacuum-tube circuit, which allowed for the use of an electronic display. This feat alone revolutionized the ease of accessibility to and comprehension of the modern video game, and allowed systems like the Atari 2600 and Famicom (Japan’s version of the Nintendo Entertainment System) to begin their arduous and impressive takeover of the practical entertainment method. The evolution of an electronic display through vacuum tube circuits was not the only growth in this endeavor, however. Implementations of handheld controllers and joysticks paired with an electronic screen–most often that of a television–helped open up avenues for co-operational game play; opportunities for siblings and partners to work together to achieve the same common goal. At that point in time, those ventures were seldom seen in any other media but the tabletop.

Perhaps the most vital (and most effective) marketing method for early video game systems was their appeal to family and home entertainment. As a parent, one of the most laborious and comically difficult duties is the constant fulfillment of entertainment. Whether its running in the backyard pretending to be an astronaut that week or dragging their parents around the town like an indolent cat on a leash, the imagination and demand for stimulation within an active adolescent could not be rivaled. Therefore, to market a piece of machinery as an end-all, be-all, deus ex-machina for this demand was simply ingenious. Even a majority of the same adolescents that grew up on these systems’ original releases still might actively go back through their old saves and experiences at times in their life. To be able to relive a moment of your childhood with the knowledge and experience you have as an adult is one of the most powerful feelings a person can experience, and the release and evolution of these popular systems has only served as an increasingly more reliable conduit for this nostalgic reaction.

At the end of the day, we as people have an ingrained, insatiable desire for entertainment; to escape the humdrum banality of our everyday routines. To live a life different than the one we feel we’re stuck with, to feel for even just a moment that our actions and feelings really do impact the world around us in a significant manner. Most of all, these systems have– throughout their initial conception and continued existence–taught its players and users profound lessons in life, morality, and the human condition of existence. Because of men like Ralph Baer, A.S. Douglas, and William Higinbotham, these unique and creative lessons have help evolved the game development into the titanic powerhouse that it is today.

I really hope you enjoyed this week’s history topic. Join us this Thursday (10/9), where I plan to explore and talk about the first real wave of visual media through video games, including popular titles such as Pong and Tennis for Two. Until then, I hope you have a great rest of your day!

Cheers,

Ethan