Playable Remembrance: Part Four – Interactive Memories

For this last entry in this series, I’ll be following on from the links between video games and representations of atrocities, and looking at where games are currently being used for educational purposes with the aim of proposing how the Holocaust could finally have its representation in video games.

Obviously, the likes of Wolfenstein, Battlefield 1, and Spec Ops: the Line are not meant for educational purposes. But the inclusion of elements that promote education, from the plain and objective use codices, to the more self-reflective narratives, has expanded in games like these three examples. If these methods used by these commercially and critically successful games could be blended with the current and growing movements of educational and “serious” games, could they enhance or supplement current educational models?

Currently, educational games, or edutainment, are still in their infancy, despite several major studies concluding that using video games in a classroom setting led to an increase of motivation and engagement, as well as promoted IT skills, collaboration, and even critical thinking, among students, demonstrating that video games have an intrinsic value that, when applied correctly, can have a positive impact on a person’s ability to learn.

In terms of educational elements in games that explore traumatic events, I skipped over one very useful system in Battlefield 1 – it’s use of a codex. The codex is a menu system that holds cards with information about the weapons, vehicles, maps, and factions the player will utilise throughout the game. These cards are revealed after having completed challenges in the game itself in what is known as an intrinsic reward system; the player learns through play, and moreover learns by playing the way they want to play.

Intrinsic reward systems are import in making games for education as they encourage the player to engage in pleasurable activities, such as play and learning. The 1986 game Number Munchers is a prime example of this type of reward system working, as parents and teachers of students who played this game noted that it was obvious they were learning and wanted to continue playing the game because it was fun.

Alongside edutainment, there has been the expansion of the “serious” games, or games-for-impact, genre. These games aim to carry a message, most often of a political or ethical variety. To do this, they often employ a more extrinsic reward system, meaning the player must work for a reward or to avoid punishment, and this can be affected by gameplay or by narrative. A non-videogame example of this type of play would be the anti-capitalist board game Monopoly, where the players compete to own all the property on the board, as if another player owns all the property it will hurt you financially.

We can look back to Call of Duty: WWII here, and see how Sledgehammer did get some elements of representation in the epilogue right and strayed from an empowering arcade shooter to a more reflective “serious” game. There is minimal gameplay required – no shooting, no sprinting, no major actions other than looking and walking around the environment. In addition to this, the gameplay takes frequent breaks in order to produce still images: concept art of the camp, the inmates, and the bodies, that are made to look like photographic evidence of the crimes committed by the Nazis. These two elements combine to create an engaging yet respectful documentary-like environment.

However, the “serious” games genre is often criticised for being didactic and purely intended to teach, particularly in having moral instruction as an ulterior motive. This, it is argued, consigns the genre to the educational sector over entertainment and makes them unenjoyable to play. Monopoly isn’t world-renowned for its abilities to destroy friendships and cause family arguments at Christmas for nothing, after all, but Call of Duty: WWII evades this accusation, I feel, by including this story focused level and omitting gameplay mechanics to encourage the player to focus on the narrative.

In terms of creating an educational game focused on the Holocaust, a balance between a rewarding experiences and a serious tone must be kept. Too fun and it risks diminishing the subject matter, but too serious and it may drive audiences away. A developer must understand their intended audience, the design of the game, and the intended platform in order to shape the user experience. This is something that Luc Bernard got wrong when we looked at Imagination is the Only Escape previously.

With this in mind, perhaps a way of keeping players engaged yet thoughtful would be through the medium of the Augmented Reality Game, or ARG. Simply put, ARG’s are games we can play that are designed to add additional layers of narrative and meaning to our lives. A great example of an ARG is the game Chore Wars, a game designed to be played at home between family members or housemates. The players must compete to finish household chores first in order to earn points. This gamification of one very dull aspect of our lives ultimately improves it, creating a fun and engaging experience.

To take this back to the possible use of this style of game in Holocaust media, in the book Values at Play in Digital Games the authors’ describe an ARG that was made to promote local history exhibition in New York City. The intent was that players would explore the city finding people who could tell them something about the area, and then upload videos, images, or text that documented their findings.

This was a wonderful premise, but the experience was detracted from because players would score points for each piece of local history they uncovered – this led to players competing, cheating, and ultimately not learning much local history because they were focused on obtaining the highest score. Removing this point scoring element would bring the game closer to its intended purpose, localised education, and have the player completely involved in an activity for its own sake, making it ideal for a theoretical ARG that has the player explore an area directly linked with the Holocaust and learning intrinsically.

I think all of this shows that games can talk about the Holocaust in a meaningful and respectful way, but what matters is the portrayal and gameplay within that portrayal. We have looked at direct influences on how the player plays the game – Wolfenstein uses the genocidal policies of the Nazis as a motive for the player to indulge in incredible acts of violence against them throughout the game, whereas Call of Duty: WWII offers up a more restrained and reflective perspective in a singular level.

Any theoretical game directly addressing the Holocaust will need to do so in a similarly sensitive and cautious matter. Whilst intrinsically learning through play is rewarding, a developer would need to avoid making such a game fun. At the same time, a developer must be wary of making the experience extrinsic, causing the player to feel as though play has been made a mandatory activity with assessment implications. Intrinsic experiences, like the codex gathering in Battlefield 1, are more suited to schools and gamers with a casual interest in the subject matter, extrinsic reward systems may be more suited to such a topic as the Holocaust, creating a game that takes a more serious tone where the player is motivated by the completion of the narrative or their own introspection.

Alternate reality games may be the best way forward in this field, but developed into a mobile application which could serve to enhance a visitor’s experience to a Holocaust museum or locations like Treblinka, where only the earthworks remain but the evidence of the crimes (gas chambers, burial pits, etc.) are gone. This app can be unobtrusive, respectful, and can utilise the portable nature of mobile devices to bring more personal experiences to the visit.

Thank you again for keeping up with this series. Whilst I know many people do not share my view that this sort of subject does belong in a game, I think everyone can agree that humanity needs to remember events like these in order to never allow them to happen again. I believe that the author George Lipsitz said it best:

Time, history, and memory become qualitatively different concepts in a world where electronic mass communication is possible. Instead of relating to the past through a shared sense of place or ancestry, consumers of electronic mass media can experience a common heritage with people they have never seen; they can acquire memories of a past to which they have no geographic or biological connection.