The latest hysteria over video games like Fortnite echoes the Satanic Panic over Dungeons & Dragons in the 80s. Some things never change.
[h=3]Nobody Panic[/h]It's hard to imagine now, but there was a time when Dungeons & Dragons was so popular and esoteric with kids that a community movement arose castigating the game as an evil influence that corrupted young minds. And it all started with the disappearance of James Dallas Egbert III, a Michigan State University student and Live Action Role-Player (LARPer) who disappeared in the steam tunnels in an attempt to take his own life. His actions were conflated with D&D, further exacerbated by the fictional TV movie featuring Tom Hanks, Mazes & Monsters:
Eventually the panic died down along with D&D's popularity, as critics moved on to more pervasive targets like Magic: The Gathering, Harry Potter, and video games. In the case of video games, another institution has given fodder to the belief that games are bad for you.
[h=3]Et Tu, WHO?[/h]The World Health Organization officially classified gaming addiction as a disorder this year:
A frequently-used example of this health scare is Fortnite. Fortnite is third-person shooter combining the attributes of Minecraft with the Hunger Games, where contestants parachute into a storm-wreathed island with a playing field that gets smaller as time goes on until only one person is left standing. Along the way, they can "mine" everything with giant pickaxes, build forts, and scrounge for weapons:
Why is Fortnite so popular? As we discussed previously with social media, Self-Determination Theory provides some clues:
The intense appeal of Fortnite has some parents worried about yet another game corrupting their kids. The DailyMail.com put it this way:
Little Wars was one of the first tabletop wargames created by H.G. Wells. The game would go on to influence Chainmail, which would in turn spawn D&D. Wells' hope for Little Wars was much the same argument that McGonigal would make years later -- that gaming wasn't the cause of violence, but rather an escape from it:
Clyde Haberman leaves us with this final thought:
If the latest craze is any indication, games will be dogged by accusations that they corrupt young minds as long as kids are playing them.
Mike "Talien" Tresca is a freelance game columnist, author, communicator, and a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to http://amazon.com. You can follow him at Patreon.
[h=3]Nobody Panic[/h]It's hard to imagine now, but there was a time when Dungeons & Dragons was so popular and esoteric with kids that a community movement arose castigating the game as an evil influence that corrupted young minds. And it all started with the disappearance of James Dallas Egbert III, a Michigan State University student and Live Action Role-Player (LARPer) who disappeared in the steam tunnels in an attempt to take his own life. His actions were conflated with D&D, further exacerbated by the fictional TV movie featuring Tom Hanks, Mazes & Monsters:
A nationwide focus on his plight propelled interest in D&D. Sales soared, with the numbers of players leaping from the thousands into the millions. Condemnation rose as well, usually after bad things happened to D&D gamers. When Irving Lee Pulling II, a high school student in Virginia, killed himself in 1982, his mother, Patricia A. Pulling, blamed the game and formed a group called Bothered About Dungeons and Dragons. D&D was also attacked after a few murders, like the 1984 strangulation of a Missouri teenager, Mary C. Towey, by two young men, Ronald G. Adcox and Darren Lee Molitor. A “moral panic,” as cultural critics labeled it, set in. It was not unlike 1950s fears over gory comic books and 1980s worries over sex-laced rock music. But researchers, including those with the Centers for Disease Control, established no causal link between the game and violence.
Eventually the panic died down along with D&D's popularity, as critics moved on to more pervasive targets like Magic: The Gathering, Harry Potter, and video games. In the case of video games, another institution has given fodder to the belief that games are bad for you.
[h=3]Et Tu, WHO?[/h]The World Health Organization officially classified gaming addiction as a disorder this year:
Gaming disorder is defined in the draft 11th Revision of the International Classification of Diseases (ICD-11) as a pattern of gaming behavior (“digital-gaming” or “video-gaming”) characterized by impaired control over gaming, increasing priority given to gaming over other activities to the extent that gaming takes precedence over other interests and daily activities, and continuation or escalation of gaming despite the occurrence of negative consequences.
A frequently-used example of this health scare is Fortnite. Fortnite is third-person shooter combining the attributes of Minecraft with the Hunger Games, where contestants parachute into a storm-wreathed island with a playing field that gets smaller as time goes on until only one person is left standing. Along the way, they can "mine" everything with giant pickaxes, build forts, and scrounge for weapons:
Fortnite, one of the biggest gaming phenomena of this decade, plunges 100 players from a flying bus on to an island, with the goal of being the last player (or team) standing. With a series of obstacles to negotiate, the game embraces online game-playing in a way that has appealed hugely to young people and adults alike. But players are not addicted to rocket-riding or loot-hunting on their way to outlasting 99 other players. Instead, they are fully invested and motivated to beat (or at least engage with) their opponents.
Why is Fortnite so popular? As we discussed previously with social media, Self-Determination Theory provides some clues:
1. Autonomy...Players are able to play the game specifically in their own way and derive great satisfaction from the experience...2. Mastery The desire to progress and improve playing skills....New features continually test a player’s mastery of the game – a key motivational driver. 3. Purpose The desire to be part of something meaningful, going beyond being just a single player.
The intense appeal of Fortnite has some parents worried about yet another game corrupting their kids. The DailyMail.com put it this way:
Girl, nine, is in rehab after becoming so addicted to Fortnite video game she 'wet herself to continue playing and hit her father in the face when he tried to take away her XBox'
[h=3]Is it Really That Bad?[/h]Jane McGonigal, game designer and advocate, argued on Twitter:
Videogame "addiction" is compensatory, escapist behavior stemming from untreated depression or anxiety. You can't treat this by focusing on games. You treat this by targeting the real underlying problem, which by the way -- for many gamers is tied to large, systemic issues of economic insecurity, social alienation, fear of violence, trauma from serving in wars, the daily grind of suffering racism and sexism and lack of compassion in our elected leaders... I mean JUST STOP BLAMING GAMES.
Little Wars was one of the first tabletop wargames created by H.G. Wells. The game would go on to influence Chainmail, which would in turn spawn D&D. Wells' hope for Little Wars was much the same argument that McGonigal would make years later -- that gaming wasn't the cause of violence, but rather an escape from it:
You have only to play at Little Wars three or four times to realize just what a blundering thing Great War must be. Great War is at present, I am convinced, not only the most expensive game in the universe, but it is a game out of all proportion. Not only are the masses of men and material and suffering and inconvenience too monstrously big for reason, but-the available heads we have for it, are too small. That, I think, is the most pacific realization conceivable, and Little War brings you to it as nothing else but Great War can do.
Clyde Haberman leaves us with this final thought:
A century ago, H. G. Wells, the English titan of science fiction, invented a tabletop game called Little Wars with a friend, Jerome K. Jerome. Though a pacifist, Wells was intrigued by war games. He wrote a handbook for his creation, filled with clear rules of combat for opposing infantry, cavalry and artillery. That was in 1913. A year later, World War I broke out. You see the connection, don’t you?
If the latest craze is any indication, games will be dogged by accusations that they corrupt young minds as long as kids are playing them.
Mike "Talien" Tresca is a freelance game columnist, author, communicator, and a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for sites to earn advertising fees by advertising and linking to http://amazon.com. You can follow him at Patreon.
