Multiplayer. Magnificent, sometimes miserable.
We've come a long way since the Multitap, hooking up a then mindblowing four, sometimes five, people to a single game. The possibilities were endless at the time, even if my supply of friends who played games didn't quite reach that capacity.
Now I see MMORPGs and Call of Duty campaigns that stretch to accommodate the size of your average classroom and beyond, all online. Gone are the days crowded around a tube screen as your favorite characters zipped around a little pixelated track.
And as I sit here at my desk, with the latest patch for The Last of Us downloading in the other room, I wonder about the implications of the evolution of multiplayer video games. How good is it that we've spurred friends from the living room in favor of friends in the lobby? Is splitting your T.V. into four barely legible screens really worth it?
I tend to lean more toward the benefits of in-person multiplayer, but I understand the benefits of online multiplayer as well. The former will be referred to as "Traditional" whereas the latter will be referred to as "Modern", as I try and figure out where each fits in our own personal and social developments.
Social Potential
We all know how it goes. You're bored one day, nothing much is going on. You look over and see your Nintendo 64 controllers, dusty from disuse. There's only one possible recourse, and that is to invite three friends over so you can beat the snot out of them in Mario Kart 64.
That may be the initial intention, but this social gathering more than likely reaches farther than Moo Moo Farm.
A video game played with other people in close proximity opens up several other avenues for social interaction. Before the game we share what's been going on in our lives, argue over who has to make the popcorn, and decide who gets to be the illustrious "Player 1". There's ample time to talk about everything and nothing (even if it's usually nothing).
After the game is done, there's usually the issue of hunger that needs to be addressed. Since you're all together then, why not go take advantage of some unlimited TGI Friday Appetizer Specials? Or maybe some Tequila? Or maybe even both. (Warning: Consumption of copious amounts of mozzarella sticks can have an adverse effect on your health. Same goes for tequila, I suppose.)
Then there's the game itself. Healthy amounts of trash talking, mild physical violence, sometimes extreme profanity (Mario Party is taboo, and also considered a vulgar word in some circles), among other things. Yes I know that these elements are present in online gaming, but it doesn't offer the same kind of developmental impact. We don't learn certain lessons when we are not exposed to these situations in a direct manner. Which leads me to my next point of:
Social Accountability
One of the most pervasive archetypes of online gaming in the 2000's was that of the "12 year old with nothing better to do". They flung out obscenities left and right, calling into question everything from your racial identification to the chastity of your family members. I wasn't sure of how many ways a person could egregiously assert their dominance over a microphone, but I think I had a fair idea after the release of Halo 2.
And every time I had sound enabled on an online game, invariably there would be someone spouting something homophobic, racist, misinformed, misogynistic, or downright dumb, polluting my living room. And I could snap back, feign ignorance, or just quit the game. But there was one thing I could never do, and that's the one thing the person on the other end of the connection knew as well.
And that was the fact that I was unable to punch him in the face.
Sure, it sounds pretty straightforward and self explanatory. It even borders on that's-common-sense-why-would-you-even-ask-that kind of a question. What I don't think some people realize is how important it is to have the person you're trash talking actually have the ability to exact revenge on all those awful things you say. It's limiter and a moderator, ensuring we don't step over lines that we don't really have to.
The thin veil of anonymity affords your average person a seemingly bulletproof vest against retribution not only in online gaming, but anything over a secure (or not so secure) network. "What can they really do", they think to themselves. "What's the worse that can happen? I'm not even using my real name", is another phrase that comes to mind. And both of these are on average, unfortunately, fairly true. Games and forums have protocols in place to deter hateful people and keep the societies clean enough where people can interact without fear of insidious individuals and vile commentary, but there's only so much that can be done, especially after a player is on the receiving end of one of those hurtful comments. Flag a post all you want, but you've already read it. I can mute a player whenever I want, but he's already called me a fag.
I realize that the same hazards apply to traditional multiplayer. People will still say terrible things in the heat of the moment because another player beat them, or they'll curse and swear because something completely arbitrary happened in a game, ruining the experience. (Once again, Mario Party and your bonus stars, I'm looking at you.) Of course people will still lash out, and of course it will be misdirected a lot of the time. That's how people are, regardless of whether they're online or not.
However, having the recipient of your misdirected anger sitting in arms reach of you should make you think twice about what you say. Why?
- Fear. You want to call your friend the business end of a diarrhea stricken camel, with all the FPS skills of a blind Farmville addict. He's sitting three feet away from you, a Sam Adams cradled in his hand, white knuckles glistening from the moisture dripping down the bottle. You imagine the sound the bottle will make when it splits your skull, rather messily, into several pieces. You think better of that comment rattling inside your still intact head.
- Regret. You've successfully called your friend the aforementioned insult, and you're now beginning to cool off. You're expecting reprisal, but instead you see your friend's face wrenched with despair as he recounts how he lost his last job because he played Farmville at work, and how he lost his girlfriend due to incessant bowel trouble. See what you've done? You should be ashamed, and most likely you do. Obviously, this is making light of the situation, but there are plenty of instances where a careless word hurts a lot more than you think.
- Respect. Don't belittle someone because you lost. Belittle someone so long as it remains safe within the confines of your friendship, because at that point, it isn't the subject that matters as much as it is the fact you can be a little loose without fear of severe repercussions. Being creative with our insults can allow people to connect with each other in a different way that can be just as meaningful as any other form of social bonding. It's a medium we can use to laugh and to diffuse our frustrations, and with the additions of body language we can more safely communicate our intents. While there will still be misunderstandings, at least there will be ways to mitigate them. Each situation is different, and we'll all do a lot better if we respect that fact early on.
Social Reform
Finally, with these ideas in mind, it's important to remember that we are in complete control of how we portray ourselves online. Whether it's from what we say in online chat, or how we play the game itself, it's necessary that we take just a second to think about the consequences of our actions. In the end it only takes one word to help or hurt someone, and sometimes not even a word at all.
Going back to the idea of respect, I distinctly remember a time when I was playing Wakfu, my first MMORPG, that I met a player that left me in awe over a relatively simple thing. I had just started, and had no equipment or anything special to my name, much less any experience on how to play it, when I attempted a dungeon that was way above my level. In over my head, I expected a quick a painless death, but another character stopped what he was doing to offer me advice and even give me some equipment. It was hard to believe that a complete stranger would just help me out like that.
That got me thinking. Maybe the veil of anonymity works both ways. Maybe it's easier to be kind to people when working with an alter ego. Just like we don't have to take responsibility for the people we hurt when we're cruel, we're free to act out an act of kindness and leave it at just that. No fanfare, no expectation of reward, just the simple act of being considerate just because you can.
And that is what gave me hope when it comes to modern multiplayer. It's not an evil system where kindness goes to die and where bad grammar runs rampant. It's a public forum like any other, with a diverse mix of people jumbled together into a hodgepodge of conflicting opinions and heartfelt communication. Each has their own story, but they're all there for the same reason: to play a game.
We determine the rules of that game. We enforce them, live by them, and break them. But no matter what changes about the games we play, the fact that remains is a simple one.
All of us are playing this game together. So, let's try and look after one another.