Why Families Need Board Games, Part II: Reinforcing Personal Contact

My wife told me an intriguing story. During her visit to the dentist, she overheard a young girl asking her father if she could play a game on his cellular phone. My wife described the girl as being "whiny," which seems to be the chosen tone of many children. At the same time, my youngest son devoured 11 chapters of a book. Upon first hearing this story, one may not find anything that intriguing, but to me this story reinforces the importance of disconnecting from the digital and connecting to others and with concrete objects in the "real." Indeed, personal contact is one way in which board games will save the world, but the strongest impediment might be games of another kind...

The most salient trend in gaming is how games become more and more intricate and engrossing for the player: games are now more complex, more visually appealing, and more portable than ever. Games look sharper and crisper, and set the challenge bar high enough with less cheese than in the past; with games like Plague or Bad Piggies, players benefit from engaging graphics, top-notch sound effects, and enough detail and complication to occupy even the most jaded gamer. Also, gone are the days of needing a Game Gear or Game Boy or even having to pay money for cartridges; just get a smartphone or a tablet, download a free game app, and one can play most games anywhere and only have to tolerate the periodic advertisement. People can play everything from first-person shooters to virtual board games; one of my gaming buddies even played Ticket to Ride for the first time... on an iPad! No longer do you need game realia (such as game pieces or dice), console, cartridges, or even opponents; the computer can provide an opponent or opponents anytime, anywhere.

Considering the convenience of computer games now, plugging into the digital world is somewhat more appealing than whipping out a game board or game books, and finding "experienced" players is easier now that computer intelligence and game programming can frustrate veteran players without the skulduggery inherent to old video games, such as spotty hit detection. However, people are now, more than ever, tempted to disconnect from others. Many video game and computer game players may now be less apt to challenge live opponents, let alone engage a human being in conversation. Sure, people that play online RPGs can connect with players through a chat window or by audiovisual communication, but it all happens in a world disjointed from reality. 

We are becoming more isolated and separated, but this is one trend that board games can restrict. By taking out a board, some pieces, and some cards, one is required to find human opponents. Once one finds human opponents, one has to communicate with these opponents, whether it be friendly conversation or playful, competitive banter. One has to move pieces, read rules, and manipulate realia to make the game happen. People's brains take back the role computers have stolen from our unsuspecting grasps; their brains make the "graphics" move, our eyes ingest and admire the game pieces, and our hands carry these items from game table to game table. Board games anchor people in reality, while stimulating conversations, compelling players to match wits with organic foes, and even driving us to go out and find those foes.

As the "world" pulls us farther and further apart, seducing us with a hyper-reality of bright colors and endless opponents whom we would never have to befriend, it creates the illusion of interconnection with social media sites like Facebook and Twitter and deceives us into believing in our self-reliance. We buy into the idea that we don't need other people; we just need a computer. Yet, people are alone in their offices, chatting with each other through screens. It all seems so (William) Gibsonesque a la Neuromancer, but we need to touch each other; we need to touch this world. So, next time, instead of playing Ticket to Ride on a tablet, or asking Daddy for his smartphone, take the board game with you. Play Yahtzee in the doctor's office or Fluxx on the train. Invite your friends or even ask friendly passengers around you to play. We need personal contact; the "world" cannot overwhelm us if we (dare I say) stick together.

Why Families Need Board Games, Part I

A few weeks ago, my wife, my sons, and I led a Board Game night for several families. To start the Board Game night, I presented 15 minutes of game information and etiquette for everyone, to which the adults politely listened while the children squirmed and squawked (note: PowerPoint presentations and children don't mix well). After my hastily-concluded presentation, my wife, my sons, and I led four different game sessions to introduce new games to the families there: my wife led a game of Dixit, my oldest son led a game of Carcassonne, my youngest son led a game of Fluxx (which is NOT a board game, but it didn't really matter), and I guided youngsters through a game of Balloon Lagoon.

As we all conducted our individual games, I found time to patrol the tables and monitor how people were adapting to the new games. I was pleasantly surprised to see that many of the parents and children were learning the games quickly and engrossing themselves in the nuances of each one. The little ones at my Balloon Lagoon tables were especially eager to play a second round, which I certainly allowed them to do. Another child had even taken it upon himself to start another group game of Ticket to Ride, which he had brought to teach others. Thus, the first round of gaming ended well as we all headed into a break, which was when I observed and realized an "inconvenient truth..."

The plan for the evening was to conduct a second round of gaming during which some of the young ones would teach their own favorite board games to the adults. However, as Round 2 was set to commence, it was painfully clear that almost all of the children no longer had any interest in playing board games. Some of them migrated to another room to play with Beyblades; a few boys went upstairs to pillow fight; and several other children seemed to wander around shooting Nerf guns. It was then that I grasped a basic notion: most kids have short attention spans. This wasn't an earth-shattering discovery, but what struck me was that while my sons were open to the idea of more board games, the other kids were not so eager, which led to the earth-shattering discovery:

Many people today have trouble with board games!

Why is that? I pondered the reasons for these children (and adults) not being eager to dive into another round of more profound strategic thinking and discovery. Maybe, it's because people are used to the audiovisual splendor and attention-sapping energy of video games; maybe, it's because board games take time to set up and play; maybe, it's because people are just too busy or distracted to play board games. It could even be because people are too "plugged into" their mobile devices and tablets to shut them off and actually touch tangible game elements. These reasons and others have swirled around in my head for some time after that game meeting, and I contend that all of the reasons I listed are acceptable ones.Yet, I have a better, more over-arching reason for why many kids (and even adults) cannot sit for an extended period of time and play a board game even though those same people can sit and play video or computer games for hours:

The "world" wants us to be plugged in and reliant on technology for entertainment, business, and our very livelihoods.

The "world" is corporations that want to sell us goods with built-in obsolescence so that we buy more in three to five years. The "world" is the entertainment industry (Hollywood, if you will) that wants us to buy its mind-numbing, non-life-affirming movies, its vapid, insipid popular music, and its haughtily amoral television shows. The "world" is video and computer game makers that only seek to satiate and enthrall while promoting sexuality, violence, and unimaginative, profane abuses of language. The "world" tells us we are not smart enough to think on our own, to conduct daily life without technology, and the "world" tells us that we must always be having its brand of "fun" or else life is awful. We are all being shaped by this "world" and the incursions and invasions this "world" has masterminded against our psyches are methodically reshaping us into thrill-seeking, attention-lacking, over-multi-tasked consumers sans a moral compass.

How do we stop the "world" from transforming us into lemmings? One way is through board games.

(To be continued)

Netrunner: 1HN Jettisoned Cargo

From my pre-teen years to my college years, I was a collector. At first, I collected baseball cards, but those companies flooded the card market with overprinted sets, so collectors (who believed the hype of the increased collectibility of baseball cards) bought mass amounts of cards only to watch the value of those cards plummet. I then collected comic books, specifically X-Men derived titles; I really enjoyed those stories, but comic book publishers failed to learn from the mistakes of the baseball card companies, oversaturated the market, and values dropped greatly. After that came a relatively new kind of collectible: the collectible card game. Magic: The Gathering was one of the forerunners and not much needs to be said right now about that game (which I may write more about later), but another game came out of the same publisher as Magic called Netrunner.

For the unitiated, Netrunner was a collectible card game with a cyberpunk theme and what was a novel approach at the time: one player plays as the "Runner," a hacker-like individual whose sole purpose is to extract information from the Corporation, which is played by the other player. The Corporate has its own agendas, literally: the Corporation's goal is to score points by completing agendas while resisting the incursions of the Runner. Both sides have cards that are specific to their roles: Runners can use Hardware, Resource, and Icebreaker cards to assist them in penetrating the Ice, Nodes, and Upgrades of the Corporation. It was first released in 1996 and only one expansion was ever released widely for it. Netrunner was the hot game among card gamers until 1999 or so when Wizards of the Coast (the publisher of Magic: The Gathering) stopped producing it.

As I write this review, it surprises me how Netrunner is still strongly supported even 17 years after its initial release. In 1996, I purchased a few double-deck packs and several Limited and Proteus boosters. Being the collector that I was, I bought enough cards to amass almost 700 cards. But, over time, I packed the cards away and forgot about them... Until three years ago, when I unearthed my Netrunner and Magic cards. Then and now, many "professional" reviewers have pointed at Netrunner as the most well-balanced, well-designed collectible card game out there; no one card is so powerful that it tilts the game in one player's favor and is abused en masse. Based on my observations and readings, I believe that is true. I never got to play against a human opponent (I only playtested decks against myself), but I read enough of the rules and strategy guides out there to see how much more balanced cards are (despite rarity) than Magic cards are and how much more diversity there is with deck strategies than there are with Magic decks.

All of this said, an interesting thing happened regarding the first release of this review. A few weeks ago, I published this review here and at Board Game Geek, stating the following in what was the initial part of my concluding paragraph:

"As a Christian, I rid myself of Magic cards because the motif and imagery was not compatible with my convictions, despite the wonderfully complex rules, strategies, and interactions involved with Magic: The Gathering. Netrunner has a comparable level of complexity, but with only a few objectionable images and even more equality among deck designs, even with a much smaller inventory of existing cards."

After I published this review, I got quite a few replies, even some just criticisms, about my views on Netrunner vis-a-vis Magic: The Gathering and how it seemed like I found corporate espionage and murder acceptable, but not the occult imagery of Magic. I thought about it and realized that those critics were right -- my opinion of Netrunner were inconsistent with my convictions regarding the possible negative influences of games. Thus, I sold my cards, perhaps to someone who does not have the convictions I have (I had already sold off/thrown away my Magic cards).

Many people can compartmentalize their own convictions related to games because they are at peace with the notion that those games are "just games." However, for me, I feel compelled to act on my convictions, which is to say that I don't believe that playing Netrunner or any game is inherently sinful (i.e. fracturing one's relationship with God), but the themes and actions taken in a game must be considered, as well as the intent of those actions, when choosing which game to play and, more importantly, in determining what possible influences that game may have. This process of analyzing the benefits and detriments of each game is an ongoing one and there aren't many firm rules, but I do have some, such as no violence with villainous intent. As I get older and I watch my boys get older, I often ask myself, "Is any particular game something I'd want to see my boys play now?" As I seriously considered Netrunner, I concluded that I wouldn't want my boys playing this game because much of the moral decisions one makes in the game are relativistic at best; for example, as one commenter pointed out, the game glorifies hacking, which is normally a criminal activity (except for "white" hacking, which serves the purpose of testing a company's network and data security). I surmised that I did not want to convey the message to my boys that computer theft was acceptable, which led me to the overdue conclusion that Netrunner was not a game for me or my family. That said, if you, the reader, are an adult and your conscience is clear concerning Netrunner, then you should exercise your freedom to play. If anything, playing Netrunner may allow you to connect with people who would never play games with a Christian otherwise.

Max Headroom: 1HN Dystopian Portent

Whenever I mention the name "Max Headroom" to people my age, they often remember the old Coca-Cola commercials of the mid-80s or the Max Headroom show on Cinemax, but most people do not remember that for parts of two seasons, there was an ABC network show called Max Headroom (for those uber-nerds out there, I am well aware that Max Headroom debuted in Great Britain with a different pilot and mostly a different cast, but I'm focusing on the US version). To those people who recognized the name, I would tell them about that show and their eyes would glaze over. Then, I would move the conversation quickly in another direction...

Max Headroom took place in the future; "20 minutes in the future" as the opening tagline of the show stated. The series revolved around Edison Carter (played convincingly by Matt Frewer), a passionate, temperamental news reporter/cameraman, and his digital alter ego, Max Headroom, who was capricious, fun-loving, and unpredictable. Each episode involved Edison Carter attempting to investigate, at great risk to himself, a news story while aided by his trusty controller Theora Jones (Amanda Pays), his gruff, but sympathetic editor Murray (Jeffrey Tambor), and a boy genius named Bryce Lynch (Chris Young). All of the aforementioned people worked for Network 23, which was one of the most influential networks in the world. All the while, Max Headroom zoomed from TV screen to TV screen, wreaking havoc and yet assisting Edison and Theora whenever he happened to want to help.

Max Headroom was a character-driven science-fiction show that featured many fine acting performances, but what stood out was the dystopian, somewhat Blade Runner-type (but less foreboding, at least superficially) future that served as the stark backdrop for all of the episodes with crumbling ruins and towering, monolithic skyscrapers coexisting in close proximity and the poor living in ruins with nothing more than their clothes and a TV. In the future, everyone owns a TV and it has to be kept on and active and people seem to watch addictively. It is a future when networks devise advertising strategies to control people's minds and manipulate them psychologically and physically (as seen in the pilot episode during which "blipvert" three-second advertisements cause a large, slothful man to explode). Networks and massive corporations rule the landscape, the rich are indeed richer, and the poor are numerous, but never without a TV (which are handed out freely by the prevailing government). Ultimately, ratings are king, establishing a network's political and social clout with "two-way sampling" truly meaning that people watch TV and the networks watch them. In these ways, the future is almost like a main character in each episode, working for or against the intrepid Edison Carter and his trusty crew.

At the same time, there is a retro look to the future: keyboards are like clunky typewriters, cars are modeled after Packards and Tuckers (old cars from the 40s and 50s), and fashion seems to reflect a timeless sensibility wisely removed from 80s fashion... mostly. If anything, Max Headroom more resembles the film Brazil (which was released to theaters before Max Headroom was on TV; was Max Headroom influenced by Brazil?). Particularly, the character of Edison Carter is a Lone Ranger, standing against corporate and network injustice. Yet, he is also employed by a network, so he is often at odds with his own employers. Nonetheless, the never-anachronistic value of liberty over governement control is apparent in every episode.

Looking back at Max Headroom, what was especially striking about the show (besides the digitally stuttery delivery of the titular character) was that it was a view of the future that wasn't off the mark. Consider that Max Headroom was on the air 25 years ago, and yet the show foretold the ubiquity of TVs, how addictive and essential TV and video screens in general would become for people, and how much sway advertising and social media would have on people. Max Headroom was also portentous in its exposition of consumerism, which was assumed to be rampant in the future when people consume to make themselves happy and find fulfillment. Sure, discussing the rise of consumerism isn't an impressive prediction considering how consumerism was rampant in the 80s, but the satire is biting nonetheless. Moreover, the show also introduced a counter-cultural idea that is becoming more prevalent today: the idea of living off the grid, disconnected from mainstream media and utilities. These "blanks" in Max Headroom are much like the much-derided off-the-gridders of today that decry modern dependencies and favor a more wide-open, unfettered existence. It won't be long before "blanks" become more and more common today as people tire of everyone knowing everything about them and of our dependence on public utilities and foreign-grown produce.

What is more disquieting about the show in hindsight from a Christian standpoint is that the show (perhaps inadvertently) displays an End Times-type of future in which people are microchipped (at least, Metro cops are microchipped), religion is portrayed as flummery, and a global world order (ruled by TV) is suggested with corporations and ratings virtually governing people's actions. In this way, besides the principal characters, people are generally portrayed as "sheeple" who are more interested in the next TV show than in the welfare of others. Today, we are not far off from this future; we may not have flying cars (a la Blade Runner) or electromorphic AI like Max Headroom, but TV and, more alarmingly, smartphones have become essential for many. Screens of all kinds seem to hypnotize and anesthetize us as we walk around with our heads down or with our noses touching our screens.

Slowly, quietly, people are being blinded. Thirty years ago, even though I wasn't a believer in Christ, I knew about general End Times predictions. I used to scoff at the idea of microchips (aka "The Mark of the Beast") being implanted in people because I assumed that people would also know about those same End Times prediction and would avoid microchips like the plague. I used to think that someone would stop the rise of a "new world order" and deny the emergence of a leader that would herald himself as a modern savior, but would then turn against humanity. Nowadays, I'm not sure they wouldn't welcome the convenience of having their credit information and personal history implanted in their bodies; after all, it would beat carrying cash or having to carry or lose a wallet. I'm also not sure that people wouldn't welcome a unified global government with a leader that dictates our actions from on high; as long as we are entertained and given smartphones and our fair share of food and handouts, we won't want to rebel.

In summation, Max Headroom was an outstanding show that was indeed ahead of its time with predictions that are currently being played out now. The acting was top-notch and the veiled satire in each storyline was on par with the social commentary of the Twilight Zone and the original Star Trek series (which was actually a vehicle for social commentary, despite the wonderfully amusing histrionics of William Shatner). It is no wonder that this show was moved from time slot to time slot and eventually cancelled; much like Edison Carter, Max Headroom represented too much of a seering jab at TV and modern society to stick around. When I watch Max Headroom now, I am compelled to open my eyes to see a somewhat frightening world, the horrors of which are often obfuscated by "entertainment" and the self-gratification that comes with video games and constant Internet connectivity. I am reminded that people should stand up against the tyranny of our screens and resist being enfolded into a system that shall eventually monitor our every move once we surrender our freedom to be individuals. Already, Facebook and other social media sites retain our personal information and have been known to share it. Indeed, "20 minutes in the future" is now.

Nobunaga's Ambition: 1HN Confusion in Defeat

When I was an undergrad, I studied Japanese language, history, and culture. Admittedly, at the time, I wasn't much of a language student and much preferred the elective history classes I took over learning kanji and memorizing dialogues. One day, while I was browsing the game stacks at Electronics Boutique, I happened upon Nobunaga's Ambition, which instantly caught my eye because of my appreciation of Japanese history, particularly the warlord period before the Edo/Tokugawa period (1600-1868). It was during that period when Japan's three greatest warlords brought about events that would unify the Japanese archipelago. This game focuses on the time period of Oda Nobunaga's rise to power. He was the first of the three great warlords (who were technically not "shogun," but are often considered as such) and was probably the most fascinating of the three for his penchant for megalomania and ambition to establish himself as a leader to be worshipped.

Even knowing a little about Oda Nobunaga should interest anyone in a strategy game about conquering domains, forming alliances through marriage, and conducting trade, which is what Nobunaga's Ambition promised as a game. I remember when I first opened the game and inserted it into my Sega Genesis. I actually perused the rather substantial manual -- I didn't just scan it, but read it deeply. I started the game and duly chose to be Oda Nobunaga. I was assaulted with the bright 16-bit glory of Genesis graphics and inundated with information about my domain and my military strength. Things started out so well and I was fully prepared to engage in hours of strategic gaming...

Except it didn't last hours. In fact, my first game didn't last more than 10 minutes because in short order I invaded a neighbor, got routed, tried forming an alliance and failed, and then got routed by another neighbor who took advantage of my weakness. I recall not being upset or frustrated, but confused. What just happened? What on Earth could I have done?

Well, I tried again... and again. At the start of one game, I tried to boost my rice production and go with a trade strategy, but I would inevitably be tempted to expand militarily and be summarily slapped down. I would then try to stockpile my fighting units only to be taken out from all sides due to my refusal to act. There were some strategies I refused to try because I didn't agree with them, and probably failed as a result; one such tactic was marrying into alliances. Because it seemed dishonest to me to establish alliances only to break them, I never tried that approach, though it could have been a route to victory. (Actually, Japan was largely unified through alliances, diplomacy, and the Battle of Sekigahara, which wasn't a direct military victory for Tokugawa Ieyasu as much as it stoked the formation of a political coalition among the victorious domains). Anyway, I tried several tactics and avoided other tactics, but the results were always the same: failure to advance.

The common response to repeated failure in strategy games is to seek out whatever tips, tricks, and information out there to play and win, but because I was more of a sports gamer at the time, I didn't have the patience to find strategy guides to win at what was essentially a resource management game. In little time, I shelved the game, never to crack the case again. Today, I still own Nobunaga's Ambition. As I write this, I think about how my new-found interest in Euro-style board games, which has stoked a parallel interest in Nobunaga's Ambition. Perhaps I was in the wrong place at the wrong time with this game: as a 22-year-old sports fan, the game was too slow and too opaque for me to sit back and enjoy it. However, as a 38-year-old board gamer, I think I'll try this game again. With the Internet and mounds of potential strategy information at my disposal, I can approach the game with a renewed vigor, with optimism, and with an appreciation of the management of resources. Stay tuned for Part II, when I give Nobunaga's Ambition another try...

Unplugging: An New Old Trend in Gaming and Communication

As I finished writing what was going to be my newest blog post this morning, I realized that my post was too lengthy to be a post, so I decided to publish it as an article on Epinions:

Unplugging: An New Old Trend in Gaming and Communication

In general, this article reflects my views on gaming, challenging people to step away from Internet-based and even technology-based entertainment in favor of face-to-face interaction and board games. This article seems to run counter to my enjoyment of video games, but I proposed a moderate approach to video games in which we play video games but only for a set amount of time and with people in the same room. For example, arcades twenty years ago were social hubs of interpersonal interaction and shared physical space, even if people were facing video game screens.

Anyway, to summarize, I support more board game time and face-to-face time, and less Internet time and social media time. Slowly, methodically, we are being enfolded into a electrically-powered technological collective that both shatters physical space and creates binary walls. We must overcome these walls and realize physical space once again, but endeavor to obliterate physical space by simply stepping away from screens and stepping towards each other.

Stratego: 1HN Childhood Dream Fulfilled

As my legions of fans know (okay, I DON'T have legions of fans, but that phrase sounds pleasantly grandiose), I was, and still am, an only child. I say this because I grew up with few playmates. Not so surprisingly, this had its advantages: I always knew where my stuff was, I tended to keep all the weapons to my GI Joes and Transformers and not have them lost by a younger sibling, and I only had myself to blame if a game or toy was damaged or wrecked. Sadly, though, being an only child had its downsides, namely the aforementioned lack of playmates or opponent for games. This was especially tragic because I loved, and still love, board games. I used to collect all the classics, like Monopoly, Risk, Clue, Advance to Boardwalk, Doorways to Adventure (a VCR game!), Chess, and Stratego. Now, you might be asking yourself, "What about your mom and dad? Didn't they play board games?" To be fair, I may not have asked them to play, but as I got older they didn't seem to enjoy playing games. Anyway, because I was an only child, I had few opponents except for friends. The other tragic thing about me was that I despised losing, and one has to be accustomed to losing at board games because results often do not favor oneself. That's another story.

One game that I collected that I mentioned earlier is Stratego. It's a game that involves two armies on a map with grid lines. Both players place the soldiers, bombs, and flag of their armies on squares in the back four rows of their sides of the board. Soldiers occupy many ranks from number 9 (which is a Scout) to number 1 (which is the field marshal). Pieces are deployed with their backs facing their opponent, so one never finds out what his opponent's pieces are until one of his pieces engages one of his opponent's pieces. That's how the game works essentially; two pieces engage in combat and the lower-numbered (or higher-ranking) piece wins. The object of the game is simple: capture the opponent's flag whilst avoiding bombs (which can only be defused and removed by the Miner, which is number 8) and higher-ranked pieces. A pleasing twist is the Spy, which cannot eliminate any other piece but the opponent's field marshal; the Spy can play a key end-game role, especially if the opponent favors an attack spearheaded by good ol' Number 1.

The wonderful aspects of Stratego are the placement of one's pieces and the various strategies one can employ to seek the opponent's flag. By this, flag placement is most crucial; does one place the flag in a back corner and surround it with bombs (even though this is directly out of the Stratego 101 textbook), or does one place the flag away from a cluster of bombs to fool the opponent into going for the cluster of bombs (which may also be a basic approach)? Does one lead a wedge attack with the field marshal, or does one use Scouts to feel out the opponent's front line and then send stronger troops in pairs or groups? Does one use the field marshal to defend the flag?

I'm certain there are numerous tactics one can apply and various websites that explain each tactic, but I won't delve into those here because, frankly, I'm not well-versed in all the strategies. Instead, the focus of this article is on the fulfillment of a childhood dream. Now that I am a father with two boys, I not only have the opportunity to watch them play Stratego with the same board and pieces that I collected as a youngster, but I also have opponents against whom I can play; and, I must say that my sons are the best opponents because I like to watch them beat me and I also enjoy winning against them in hard-fought matches. Stratego, along with many of the board games I still own from my childhood days, embodies what it means to live retro: to appreciate the utility and  fun of the old stuff. If you are in your teens or twenties now, save your board games, card games, and video games; though they may not have much collector value, they will have replay value with your descendants. Moreover, if you are in your thirties or older, do not be afraid to dust off the old games for your young ones. For me, dusting off those old games and playing with my sons fulfilled that childhood dream of having ready opponents that I would be as happy to lose against as I would be to win against.