Is The Need for Player Autonomy & Seamless Play a Myth?
The Big Question
Friday, May 7, I showcased my game Grandma Simulator, and we discussed fun, frustration, and player autonomy. A very interesting question came up:
Why do we feel motivated to do things that are frustrating in games?
In my short 15min game, I received a lot of feedback that it was strange or frustrating, but not that anyone wanted to give up. People enjoyed that frustration and said that it helped them empathize with Grandma.
Are player autonomy and a feeling of flow really as important as the dominant discourse makes them appear? Note that flow and autonomy are slightly different questions. The idea is that autonomy generates a feeling of flow.
The Counterexample
What game designers say: Player autonomy & flow are claimed to be an essential part of fun gameplay. Specifically, players will have the most fun when they enter a flow state where they feel that they have responsive control over their avatars. If they want to do something, they should be able to do it, and the game should work to build that experience for them. Therefore, bugs must be minimized, UX should be seamless. Look at any AAA game. For example, Apex Legends was praised by PC Gamer for streamlining the Battle Royale experience.
Counterexample: Players enjoy fumblecore games like Octodad and Grandma Simulator, where lack of control is the central mechanic of the game. You play as an octopus father trying to stay undercover. Players control the extension of limbs by holding keys, and sometimes control vertical/horizontal movement separately. The game asks you to struggle with your devices, where the translation between pressing a button and getting a result is unpredictable. In Grandma Sim, you use your interface in a familiar manner, but struggle with the rules: part of the game is figuring those out.
Gameplay of Octodad. His feet are controlled by pressing and holding alternating buttons.
Possible Answers
The enjoyment of flow, or lack of it, could be a result of genre expectations, but is NOT essential to all gameplay. But this doesn’t answer our original question: why do we do things that are frustrating in games?
And why do we accept frustration in games when we don’t enjoy it in everyday life?
I interviewed a player who enjoys roguelikes: often, roguelikes promise a greater reward like uncovering more story endings. This motivates players to overcome frustration. Maybe games that involve more than mechanical satisfaction, like story, will keep players engaged after frustrations.
My advisor, who comes from the theater world, suggested that we find satisfaction in accomplishing small actions, and feeling that we are learning and growing: look towards the hobbies people have picked up during the pandemic like baking or gardening. The satisfaction of achieving something, however small, is something people seek to cultivate a feeling of autonomy. This desire can surmount frustration.
What do you think?