The Ivory Tower
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Each month, a member of the Digital Games Research Association will share their thoughts, findings and insights on games. Rather than an iconic barrier, this "Ivory Tower" will serve as a bridge among game developers and academic game researchers. The aim is to focus on fundamental game research issues, tying them to concrete examples and game development questions.
| July 2003 Do we need a common language?by Espen Aarseth Two industries, two cultures? In this column and elsewhere, there has been much discussion of how academia and industry can cooperate for mutual benefit. Many good suggestions have been put forward, and even when some of them fall short, they help us by understanding each other's needs and wants better. One common pitfall, I think, is to regard the two sides as monolithic; "the industry" on the one hand as a cash-loaded, anti-intellectual juggernaut with short attention span, and "academe" on the other as a "self- indulgent masturbatory navel-gazing" bunch of … well, navel-gazers, I suppose. The Academy is really just another industry, with short term production goals (student credits), competition for market share, product launches (new courses) every six months, and if we are very lucky, a bit of creative research at the end of the day, or (more likely) in our spare time. But while the commercial game industry has been around for few decades, the academic game industry doesn't really exist yet. We are still inventing ourselves. The best game theory out there still comes from people like Richard Bartle and Harvey Smith. But give us a couple of hundred years, and we will give you Einstein. Trust me, it will happen. The above quote about masturbatory practices is lifted from Ernest
Adams's closing remarks at this year's Academic
Summit at GDC, where Mr. Adams, in his usual sharp, witty, and yet endearing
top-hat fashion warned us (us game academics, that is) not to become
like the literary academics: While it is easy to understand and even share the sentiment behind his stern warning (who, after all, likes navel-gazing academics? – probably not even their own mothers), this time it seems to me that my favorite game dev pundit, while attempting to rocket jump, has fragged himself in the foot. A closer look at literary history, from Greek drama to Stephen King, reveals a close, mutually beneficial relationship, where theorizing, writing, teaching, mentoring and editing go hand in hand in hand. Sure, there is love and hate, as in any long-lasting, productive marriage. But in the long run (the next two thousand years of game development and criticism) we could do a lot worse than duplicate the symbiotic relationship between literary criticism and creative writing. Adams’ warning against self-indulgent, non-communicative jargon should be heeded, but journals such as Game Studies have been dealing with this from the start. That GS has received flak from other academics for this policy, such as in a recent discussion on the DIGRA list, is surely a sign of good health. It also shows that just as the game industry comes in many different shapes, sizes and agendas, so do the gamademics. The Quest for a Universal Language Speaking of jargon, it has been suggested, by Ernest Adams and others, that a way to make ourselves useful would be for academics to develop a common language, a shared vocabulary that the industry could use to standardize their design documents and daily communication. This sounds like a good, academic project, but is it really? As Janet Murray pointed out in last month's column, academic research is not about reaching consensus above all, it is about producing knowledge, and this means disagreement as often as agreement. Even after two thousand years of research, there is no industrial-strength common terminology of storytelling. There are many dictionaries and shared vocabularies in narratology, but we should not fool ourselves into thinking that one standard language will emerge anytime soon, despite narratologists' best efforts. Vocabulary-building, like community-building, is a slow, collective and infinite process, and not always compatible with critical analytic research. People see things differently, and words are far from neutral carriers of common, already-agreed meaning. What to do, for instance, with 'addictive'? Of course, a standard technical terminology would be of great value to a large game production company, but in that case, let them pay for it! That is what other industries with similar needs do, such as the oil industry in Norway. Compiling and maintaining industrial terminologies is a standard applied-research task for trained terminologists (terminology is a branch of applied linguistics). It is probably not a task best left to game theorists, who would probably never agree on any other terms than those of their own invention. And it could actually be a bad idea to have a common language, this early in the infant tradition of digital game-making. Immature standards are tomorrow’s straitjackets, and if I dare risk Mr. Adams' wrath for a moment by invoking a very useful tenet of post-structuralism, words tend to direct and shape our ideas much more than we like to think. Their meaning control us more than vice versa. In the fast-moving world of creative game development, probably the last thing we need is a perfect common language. Game production is already becoming so standardized that innovation and art would probably benefit from more, rather than less, chaos and pluralism. Don't get me wrong. I am not at all against attempts to standardize terminology. In fact, as a theorist I do it all the time. We all do. It is just that I don't think that the end result of a conscious, collective effort to produce a dictionary, should it be organized (and funded) will be all that useful, if we by hard work or divine intervention managed to reach consensus. Its chief value will probably come from the process rather than the product, through the awareness raised by the difficult decisions. As with gaming itself, the path is the goal. -- |
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About DiGRA
Digital Games Research Association (DiGRA) is a non-profit, international association of academics and practitioners whose work focuses on digital games and associated activities. Focus technologies of the association include (but are not restricted to) existing types of computer and video games, online games, arcade games, games on handheld and mobile devices and games delivered through digital television or other forms of interactive technologies. The Association aims to encourage high-level digital games relevant research and to promote the dissemination of work by its members through research, development, commercial, practitioner and policy communities, networks and organisations.
