Social gaming is dying.
What do I mean when I say "social gaming"?
I don't mean online gaming. Such cultural shifts as the mainstream acceptance of MMORPG games like World of Warcraft and the impressive success of Microsoft's Xbox Live service guarantee that some twerp will always be typing obnoxious phrases like "less QQ, more pew pew" and "learn2play" on the Blizzard forums. It means you'll be muting every prepubescent male spewing profanity during your Halo match. No, online multiplayer gaming, both for PC and console games, is alive and well.
When I say "social gaming," I mean sitting in the same room as the person you're playing with or against. I mean meeting new people, talking with them before, during, and after the game, and using games as a means to build friendships.
I'm 27. Most of you will say that's not that old. Thank you. I'd like to agree.
Many of my fondest memories of multiplayer gaming are of playing console games with friends. I remember playing Mario Bros. with Elihu and laughing until my sides hurt. I remember playing Mario Kart 64 with three good friends at youth group. More recently, I my brother-in-law and I played New Super Mario Bros. while traveling with my wife's family. It was a blast.
I remember LAN parties where zero-ping Half-Life deathmatch was suddenly the funnest game in the world. I remember playing Starcraft with Elihu and Eltolad sitting in the same room--before I had cable Internet and before I used TeamSpeak.
I had the opportunity to play a few computer games with Elihu during a recent trip to Tulsa. I had forgotten how much fun it was to play games with another person in the same room; it had been a long time since I had that much fun playing a computer game. Being in the same place playing the same game added more than just calling out the locations of enemy players and coordinating attacks.
Playing games together, in the same space, means getting to know other gamers better. It means taking a break for food and talking to and listening to friends. It means running out for snacks.
Is social gaming dead? No, not quite. People still get together at people's homes and apartments to play console and computer games. The rise of mainstream MMORPGs and the widespread use of voice chat have given us a richer online gaming experience.
But what are we losing?
We're losing the understanding of the value of face-to-face interaction. We're losing social connections with other people--connections that extend beyond gaming.
The loss is even more tangible for businesses that depend on gamers for profit. Arcades and LAN centers are losing clients.
Why are arcades dying off? Because console games are as powerful as arcade machines. Because arcade owners aren't willing to take a chance on the more expensive simulator machines (and, given the cost of maintenance for such machines, understandably so). Because there's no sense in pumping quarters into a machine when you can rent a port of the same game and play it as much as you want for a fraction of the price.
In addition to a new, more powerful generation of video game consoles, the decline of simulator arcade machines, and the popularity of arcade-to-console ports, there's another reason why arcades are dying. Stay tuned.
Why are LAN centers dying off? Three reasons come to mind:
How does this tie into the death of social gaming?
When we stay at home and log in to Steam or Xbox Live or World of Warcraft, we show others only what we want them to see. We take in limited data like usernames, avatars, and voices and we make judgments based on that limited information. We don't see a person's face, eyes, or mannerisms. We don't hear what they say when the Push-to-Talk key isn't pressed.
Part of building friendships and relationships is seeing a person's flaws and showing our friends our own flaws. It involves spending time with other people; more importantly, it involves speaking to and listening to those people. It requires giving and receiving attention.
Online interaction is, at best, an introduction to or an imitation of real social interaction with other people. It is a good start and it is a decent temporary substitute, but it is not--and should never be mistaken for--a replacement.
What does the death of social gaming mean for Christian gamers specifically? It means reduced accountability. It's no secret that multiplayer gaming can be a frustrating experience. A Christian gamer struggling with anger can mute their mic when they throw a tantrum and their teammates or guildmates will never know. A Christian gamer playing at a church LAN is accountable to other players there.
Maybe these are just the ramblings of a 27-year old game who misses the days of visiting arcades, arcades Mario Kart 64, and holding mini-LAN parties with his friends. It's entirely possible. But maybe there's something in this wall of text someone can take away from all this.
Still, I am grateful for Planet Puzzle League matches against my wife.
What do I mean when I say "social gaming"?
I don't mean online gaming. Such cultural shifts as the mainstream acceptance of MMORPG games like World of Warcraft and the impressive success of Microsoft's Xbox Live service guarantee that some twerp will always be typing obnoxious phrases like "less QQ, more pew pew" and "learn2play" on the Blizzard forums. It means you'll be muting every prepubescent male spewing profanity during your Halo match. No, online multiplayer gaming, both for PC and console games, is alive and well.
When I say "social gaming," I mean sitting in the same room as the person you're playing with or against. I mean meeting new people, talking with them before, during, and after the game, and using games as a means to build friendships.
I'm 27. Most of you will say that's not that old. Thank you. I'd like to agree.
Many of my fondest memories of multiplayer gaming are of playing console games with friends. I remember playing Mario Bros. with Elihu and laughing until my sides hurt. I remember playing Mario Kart 64 with three good friends at youth group. More recently, I my brother-in-law and I played New Super Mario Bros. while traveling with my wife's family. It was a blast.
I remember LAN parties where zero-ping Half-Life deathmatch was suddenly the funnest game in the world. I remember playing Starcraft with Elihu and Eltolad sitting in the same room--before I had cable Internet and before I used TeamSpeak.
I had the opportunity to play a few computer games with Elihu during a recent trip to Tulsa. I had forgotten how much fun it was to play games with another person in the same room; it had been a long time since I had that much fun playing a computer game. Being in the same place playing the same game added more than just calling out the locations of enemy players and coordinating attacks.
Playing games together, in the same space, means getting to know other gamers better. It means taking a break for food and talking to and listening to friends. It means running out for snacks.
Is social gaming dead? No, not quite. People still get together at people's homes and apartments to play console and computer games. The rise of mainstream MMORPGs and the widespread use of voice chat have given us a richer online gaming experience.
But what are we losing?
We're losing the understanding of the value of face-to-face interaction. We're losing social connections with other people--connections that extend beyond gaming.
The loss is even more tangible for businesses that depend on gamers for profit. Arcades and LAN centers are losing clients.
Why are arcades dying off? Because console games are as powerful as arcade machines. Because arcade owners aren't willing to take a chance on the more expensive simulator machines (and, given the cost of maintenance for such machines, understandably so). Because there's no sense in pumping quarters into a machine when you can rent a port of the same game and play it as much as you want for a fraction of the price.
In addition to a new, more powerful generation of video game consoles, the decline of simulator arcade machines, and the popularity of arcade-to-console ports, there's another reason why arcades are dying. Stay tuned.
Why are LAN centers dying off? Three reasons come to mind:
- A broken business model. If a person is interested in computer games, they probably already own a computer. If a computer owner is able to spend $5 an hour to play games, they can probably afford $50 to purchase the game. Why get in your car, drive to the LAN center (which costs gas, and gas is expensive), and pay $5 an hour to do what you can do at home?
- New technologies. If you're into multiplayer computer gaming, you probably have a broadband connection. Chances are good that you get close to if not lower pings at home than you would playing online games at a LAN center. Voice chat programs like Ventrilo and TeamSpeak let you chat in real-time with your comrades--while giving you the option to mute that kid that swears like a sailor.
- World of Warcraft. No, seriously. People go to LAN centers for the social atmosphere. MMO games are built on social interaction. WoW players, think about it: Would you be playing WoW if not for your guild? MMO games have been called chat rooms with graphical interfaces. Shooter and strategy games don't have the same level of social interaction built-in. Playing Counter-Strike: Source at home and playing CS: S at home are two very different experiences. Playing WoW at a LAN center and at home isn't that different. And it just isn't feasible to get 24 of your guildmates to come to the same physical location to run that 25-man instance. Getting 4 of your friends together to play a CS: S match against another clan is much more plausible.
How does this tie into the death of social gaming?
When we stay at home and log in to Steam or Xbox Live or World of Warcraft, we show others only what we want them to see. We take in limited data like usernames, avatars, and voices and we make judgments based on that limited information. We don't see a person's face, eyes, or mannerisms. We don't hear what they say when the Push-to-Talk key isn't pressed.
Part of building friendships and relationships is seeing a person's flaws and showing our friends our own flaws. It involves spending time with other people; more importantly, it involves speaking to and listening to those people. It requires giving and receiving attention.
Online interaction is, at best, an introduction to or an imitation of real social interaction with other people. It is a good start and it is a decent temporary substitute, but it is not--and should never be mistaken for--a replacement.
What does the death of social gaming mean for Christian gamers specifically? It means reduced accountability. It's no secret that multiplayer gaming can be a frustrating experience. A Christian gamer struggling with anger can mute their mic when they throw a tantrum and their teammates or guildmates will never know. A Christian gamer playing at a church LAN is accountable to other players there.
Maybe these are just the ramblings of a 27-year old game who misses the days of visiting arcades, arcades Mario Kart 64, and holding mini-LAN parties with his friends. It's entirely possible. But maybe there's something in this wall of text someone can take away from all this.
Still, I am grateful for Planet Puzzle League matches against my wife.

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