Category Archives: Game Design
Game Design and the Art of Listening
Game designers really need to know a little bit about everything when applying their craft: algebra, archeology, architecture, creative writing, history, mythology, music theory, statistics — it’s far more than just knowing how to play games. Game designers also need a wide variety of skills: creative writing, technical writing, scripting, presenting, organization, teamwork. However, because game design is all about ensuring that a game is fun for other players, the most important skill of a game designer is the listening. Game designers’ initial thoughts about what will make their game fun to play are quite often wrong, and so it is critical to listen to the feedback from the play testers trying the game out during development.
Veteran game designer Greg Costikyan recently posted this on his Facebook page, and I thought it was well worth sharing.
“What is the most important skill for a game designer?” asked the interviewer.
I thought for a moment and said, “The ability to listen.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“You start, of course, with your own sense of aesthetics, your imagination, and your knowledge of game design patterns. But I remember talking over a design spec I’d written with our tech lead years ago, and he asked me ‘But how do we know this will be fun?’ I had to say ‘I guarantee that it will suck — at first.’ Problems always arise, your players don’t get it at first. Even if the basic design is sound, it’s highly unlikely you’re going to hit the target perfectly on the first attempt.”
“So where does listening come into that?”
“You have to listen — to your players, to your metrics, to your team members, to the financial and time constraints under which you operate. And you have to adjust, to iterate, to refine; to kill the things that aren’t working, to see where new things need to be added to provide balance and tradeoffs, to let go the features you’d love to have but that time and money don’t permit.”
“So… you just do what other people say?”
“No, no, no! Listening is not obedience. Much of the time you consider what people have to say — and ignore it. Or not ignore it; try to tease out what the actual problem is from the problem they perceive — quite often they are very different.”
“Can you give me an example?”
A moment for thought. “Yes. Years ago, I played quite a lot of an indie MMO called ‘A Tale in the Desert.’ It’s a crafting game, and what hooked me was that one of the first things I did was grow and harvest flax. That sounds dull, but it was enjoyable; you plant the seeds, the plants grow in stages, you must water and weed when the imagery tells you it’s time, and the flax plants themselves are beautiful, waving gently in the wind.
“Later on in the game, you spend a lot of time smelting ore. You’re staring at a kind of ugly smelter, adjusting sliders to keep some parameters within limits; fail, and you have to start over. You have to do this a lot, and it’s boring and repetitive and kind of horrible. On the forums, the players complained about it bitterly; they said that smelting ore took too long.”
“So?”
“So the developers listened, and they made the process quicker and easier.”
“Problem solved, then?”
“No, they hadn’t listened. The players SAID that it took too long, but that wasn’t the real problem. The real problem was that it wasn’t beautiful. Smelting ore needed to be as joyous as planting flax. Listening doesn’t mean doing what your players — or your boss, or your team-mates — say; it’s figuring out why they’re saying it, and what the real problem is. They solved the wrong problem.”
While designing your game, use the data your gather from surveys, interviews, metrics and observation to find out what your playtesters are saying about your game, and then analyze those results to determine the causes of the reactions you’re getting. Then go back and playtest a new version of the game that addresses those causes to find out if you listened carefully enough to what your playtesters said.
Immersion: It’s All in the Details

One of the advantages of working from a home office is that my schedule is very flexible. My wife and I had been trying to talk the kids into going to Disneyland for the past couple of months, but they are at an age where it just isn’t that exciting to them anymore. Since we couldn’t use our annual Disneyland passes again for another two months (most of the summer is blacked out for pass holders), the two of us decided to take the afternoon off and drive out to The Happiest Place On Earth, leaving the kids perfectly content to remain at home and play Minecraft.
I love Disneyland. My family used to make annual pilgrimages to Disneyland several times a year, and as an adult, I try to visit at least twice a year. (When I worked at Disney Computer Software, I had a Silver Pass that allowed me unlimited free visits to Disneyland, and I would go to the park about once a month).
What has always made Disneyland special to me is what a meticulous job it does transporting visitors somewhere else — a river cruise through exotic rainforests, a crazy ride through Roger Rabbit’s Toontown, a spaceflight to the forest moon of Endor. The illusion is complete enough that we are able to suspend disbelief and get into the spirit of pretending that we are really there. How is the illusion created? Through total immersion, right down to the smallest detail. The staff (or “cast members” as they are called) are all wearing costumes styled for the attraction in which they work, the building fixtures are themed appropriately, and even the trashcans are decorated so that they fit into Frontierland, Tomorrowland or whichever land they are placed.
I try to do something similar with the games I develop. When I produced Rendezvous: A Space Shuttle Flight Simulation, I directed that the message “Program Loading” be changed to “Rolling Vehicle Onto Launchpad.” For DuckTales: The Quest for Gold, I wrote the player manual so that it took the form of a “Junior Woodchuck Guide.” When planning the quests for Heroes of Might and Magic III, I instructed the writers to make references to the storylines of both the Heroes and Might and Magic franchises, and stay away from corny references to geek-culture found in previous games in the franchises.
Immersion is one of the reasons why players play games. Immersion, when properly done, appeals to our desire for novelty through new and imaginative experience. Although not every player has this desire to a great degree, many types of players do. Game designer Richard Bartle classified MUD (Multi-user dungeon) players into four types: Killers, Achievers, Socializers, and Explorers. Explorers like to explore the world, right down to its finer details. Such details also appeal to to the gamification player type that Victor Manrique classifies as an Enjoyer: players who are motivated by positive emotions such as joy, curiosity, inspiration, mystery and awe.
However, even a tiny detail that is out of place can jar the player out of the immersive experience. Have you ever seen a movie scene in which a spy agency is trying to trick a captive into thinking he was safe somewhere else, only to be made aware that he is being tricked due to a radio playing a sports broadcast from the wrong year or a clock chiming for the wrong time zone? The same thing can happen in games, where an incorrect detail can cause the player to no longer be captivated by your game.


