Todd Snyder
In his groundbreaking work What Video Games Have to Teach Us About Learning and Literacy, James Paul Gee famously argues that video games are an excellent place to start when trying to think about human learning. For Gee, the value of video games resides within their ability to allow the player to co-author an embodied experience within a virtual world. In good video games players are able to test the consequences of their actions against the affordances created by designers. Therefore, video games help to facilitate effective thinking because such thinking is built from an individual's ability to perceive the relationship between the world and their own physical and mental abilities. In outlining this theoretical approach to new media studies, Gee’s rhetorical aim was to demonstrate how video games tap into "profoundly good methods of getting people to learn and to enjoy learning" (29). This is a notion first expanded upon in Gee’s earlier work Why Video Games Are Good for Your Soul.
In many ways, Gee’s work is an attempt to steer the educational masses away from scripted skill-and-drill standardized instruction. The foundation of his educational theory is the belief that “deep learning” requires learners to feel like active agents rather than passive recipients (32). Gee’s concept of “deep learning,” which is a key term in his rhetoric, also depends upon an extended commitment on the behalf of the learner (32). In Why Video Games Are Good For Your Soul, Gee puts forth the notion that video games have the potential to promote deep learning by forcing learners to become active agents within the “Box Worlds” created by game designers (105). This is not to suggest that Gee’s theory has remained stagnant from one book to next. Gee’s rhetorical strategy and purpose is noticeably different in his earlier work. The goal of Why Video Games Are Good For Your Soul is to not only demonstrate how good video games facilitate effective learning but also to suggest that such embodied experiences are inherently good for the well-being (souls) of gamers. This is, of course, a statement that begs for qualification.
Gee begins Why Video Games Are Good For Your Soul with an introductory chapter that attempts to set the context for his argument by outlining his definition of “good video games” as well as his personal belief in the human “soul.” When discussing good video games, Gee is talking about a wide variety of commercial games people play on computers and gaming platforms such as Playstation, GameCube, X Box, and Game Boy (4). From the outset, Gee makes an obvious attempt to avoid discriminating among video game genres. For Gee, good video games can be found within a multitude of genres and game consoles: action, adventure, shooter, strategy, sports, and role-playing games (4). This argument is subsequently met with the suggestion that “nothing is good and bad within itself” (Gee 1). For Gee, the “goodness” of video games depends entirely on how they are used as well as the context in which they are used. Thus, good video games nourish the soul only when played with “thought, reflection, and engagement with the [digital] world around you” (Gee 4). They are good if you, as a player, begin to think like a game designer as you interact within the digital world of the game. Gee also stresses the notion that good video games allow players to co-author their experiences and interactions. In good video games the digital experience is not simply dictated by the software designer. Unfortunately, Gee spends little time discussing what might constitute a “bad” video game. By ignoring the binary created by any discussion of “good” video games, Gee sets himself up for criticism that he is simply defending all video games despite the myriad of complexities that define one game from the next.
Though Gee spends the majority of his time attempting to outline the benefits of good video games, the introductory chapter also lays out Gee’s personal definition of the human soul. The chapter ends with a discussion of an inherent human “need to feel a sense of control, meaningfulness, and even expertise in the face of risk and complexity” (4). According to Gee, we long to feel like the heroes of our own life stories. As humans, we are driven by a need to make sense of the complexities of our existence. Therefore, feelings of agency and meaningfulness are key to the mental and physical wellbeing of individuals. Gee’s non-secular approach to his discussion of the human soul is quickly followed up by the suggestion that good video games feed these inherent needs of agency and meaningfulness. Though Gee is able to make this argument more accessible by avoiding the topic of religion, his suggestion that video games have the potential to empower individuals to “find agency and meaning in other aspects of life” is far less convincing (4). Rather than provide any concrete examples of such occurrences, Gee chooses to shift gears to a discussion of the pleasure video games give participants. Thisn is because Gee would like for us to believe that pleasure is the basis of learning for humans. Unfortunately, it is often difficult to distinguish how Gee’s definition of the soul differs from that of the human mind. After reading this somewhat vague introduction, readers are likely to be left wondering if the book should be titled “why video games are good for the mind.”
After dancing around the religious implications of his definition of the human soul, Gee moves on to a discussion of his rhetorical strategy for the book. Gee suggests the book was written for anyone interested in video games, human learning, or digital media’s place in modern society. In outlining his rhetorical strategy, Gee takes a noticeably accessible tone. For example, throughout the book Gee jokingly admits that theory is boring. He also avoids using academic jargon and continually attempts to define terminologies that are specific to the gaming world. Gee also describes the video games mentioned in the book in a very clear and detailed manner. At no point does Gee assume the reader has already played the game being discussed. With this accessible tone, Gee is clearly making a concerted effort to speak to an imagined audience that may be resistant to the notion that video games are good for the mind, body, or soul.
Gee concludes the first chapter of the book with a brief discussion the issue of video game violence. In an attempt to stifle the notion that violent video games produce actual real-life violence, Gee discusses Japanese culture’s obsession with video games. In doing so, Gee points out that the Japanese play more video games that Americans but in live in a society that is statistically far less violent. After making this brief point, Gee suggests that he does not want to give this particular notion much attention. For Gee, real-life violence is contextual – the result of a variety of factors such as poverty, greed, and bad parenting. From this point on, it become clear that Gee is much more interested in discussing the benefits of video games rather than their potential pitfalls. This rhetorical move, will, of course, leave many concerned parents unsatisfied. By refusing to overtly deal with the potentially negative content found many of the games discussed later in the book, Gee once again opens himself up to the argument that he is turning a blind eye to violent themes being marketed, sold, and distributed to American consumers.
After outlining his rhetorical aim for readers, Gee begins the second chapter with a discussion of Tetris, perhaps the most widely played computer game of all time. Throughout the chapter, Gee carefully outlines Tetris’ aesthetic qualities as well as the overall objective of the game – this rhetorical pattern will remain consistent throughout the book. Gee argues that gamers are attracted to Tetris because of its “play between complexity and simplicity” (13). He also connects Tetris to human learning by arguing that “finding patterns is what the human mind does best” (Gee 13). For Gee, Tetris models one of our deepest human desires: “to solve problems by finding patterns inside a safe world in which there is a clear and comforting underlying order” (15). After clearly outlining Tetris’ intellectual appeal, Gee briefly critiques the experience the game offers participants. Gee admits that Tetris, in one sense, is a meaningless game. With its collection of square and L shaped figures, Tetris operates entirely within the realm of abstraction. However, if we assign meaning to the figures presented in the game the experience takes on a completely new meaning. From this point on, it becomes clear that Gee is using Tetris as an example of how the “story element” of contemporary video games provides gamers with an intense experience which has its roots in what Gee considers to be one of the most basic human needs (17). To further demonstrate this point, Gee transitions from Tetris into a discussion of basic story-line games such as Castlevania.
As becomes the case with subsequent discussions of storyline-driven games, Gee begins his analysis of Castlevania by providing readers with the necessary back-story of the game. For Gee, it is this element of historicity, as well as the accompanying visual and auditory elements of the game, that allows gamers to feel as if they are entering a new world and taking on a new persona. Therefore, storyline-driven games such Castlevania force players to enter an arena where “every object and movement is assigned meaning” (20). For Gee, this is closer to living inside a digital universe than reading a book or simply watching a movie. Because players determine the actions of the game’s vampire-slaying protagonist, both players and designers co-produce the experience. Regardless of whether or not the player succeeds, not all gamers will share the same experience. Some gamers will win; some will lose. What matters for Gee is that gamers have an embodied experience dictated by a trajectory that is a result of their own critical thinking. Because there is no sense of this in games like Tetris, Gee finds the storyline element of games critical when defining good video games from their archaic counterparts.
Gee begins Chapter 3 with a discussion of the educational implications for games such as Tetris and Castlevania. Once again, Gee argues that public schools condition individuals believe that “pleasure and learning have nothing to do with each other” (29). Gee suggests that video games are fun because they force gamers to play by playing (learn by learning). Good video games provide gamers with “continual opportunities for learning, problem solving, and becoming more skilled” (Gee 30). In this sense, gamers become active participants in their learning. Gee also takes shots at the skill-and-drill testing methods promoted by public school systems by suggesting that “students rarely live in the worlds they study” (31). To further demonstrate this point, Gee argues that students learning biology definitions and terminologies in a traditional classroom setting are not truly being given the chance to think as biologists. According to Gee, these students would benefit from the chance to enter a virtual world that required them to adopt the ideologies and protocols of the scientific field. It is in this section that Gee is likely to persuade educational theorists to come aboard. This is because Gee refuses to offer video games as a simple solution to educational problems found in our society. He is not suggesting that basic storyline-driven games like Castelvania are the end-all-be-all of digital learning. Instead, Gee calls for software designers to find new ways of creating embodied experiences for those interested in entering into a variety of fields and disciplines (i.e science). In this section, Gee’s rhetorical goal is to warm readers up to the idea that storyline-driven games have the potential to allow gamers to adopt foreign ideologies and thus try on new identities and worldviews.
Gee begins chapter four on a somewhat cautionary note. From the outset, he makes it clear to readers that he is fully aware that games like Full Spectrum Warrior are “ideologically laden” (43). With its military storyline, the game carries messages, beliefs, and values about war, terrorism, cultural differences, the U.S. military, and the role of the U.S in the modern world (Gee 43). Though Gee is quick to point out that he does not agree with these messages, he offers little explanation the game’s ideology. Gee also refuses to discuss how these messages and beliefs differ from his own. Instead, Gee chooses to put these issues aside and explain how Full Spectrum Warrior represents a particular type of innovation in the gamming world. His description of the storyline-driven game, which allows gamers to control two (sometimes three) squads of four soldiers each, is meant to demonstrate how the game requires participants to think like a professional. In fact, Gee even goes as far as to suggest that gamers must adopt a “certain mindset or attitude to succeed in the game” (45). For Gee, this is the key feature of storyline-driven games - players must virtually live by a certain code to win the game. Though Gee does an adequate job of demonstrating how the gamer must practice and execute certain strategically-savvy moves, his refusal to acknowledge the ideological implications of the game’s storyline is painfully obvious. To succeed in Full Spectrum Warrior the player must invade the fictitious country Zekistan and assassinate a terrorist leader named Al Afad. At no point does Gee mention how allure of this game plays off of the fear and racism perpetuated as a result of the terrorist attacks of September 11th. Gee also neglects to mention how games such as Full Spectrum Warrior have the potential to fuel the fire of middle-eastern racism in America. By ignoring these possibilities, Gee appears to be completely unwilling to reconcile the potential pitfalls of such games. In this sense, Gee also weakens his argument that such games offers gamers “new way of seeing the world” (54). If war games offer stereotypical (often demonizing) notions of life outside the U.S., how can we, as educators, argue they have the potential to allow gamers to better understand the lives of others?
In Chapter 5, Gee attempts to steer the conversation away from Full Spectrum Warrior’s controversial storyline. His goal is to present the game as a model for learning that forces gamers to adopt a strong set of values connected to a very specific identity. For Gee, games like Full Spectrum Warrior provide gamers with a “well designed visual and embodied experience” by building simulations in which gamers can think and test out actions and hypotheses (61). As was the case in previous chapters, Gee invites readers to imagine the possibilities of such games for the field of science. For Gee, storyline-driven games have the potential to bring to life all of the facts and information that learners study in a traditional classroom setting. Though Gee’s description of a hypothetical video game that allows learners to take on the role / persona of a scientist is quite intriguing, he is unable to clearly demonstrate how current video games such as Full Spectrum Warrior or Thief offer learners meaningful and productive ways to apply their knowledge and experience. This opens up the question of whether or not the digital experiences found in video games can very come remotely close to those found in the real world.
In Chapter 6, Gee begins by arguing that the “professional experience” found in video games does not have to be authentic in the real world sense (71). What matters for Gee is that learners feel as if they are experts and are given the opportunity to enjoy the satisfaction of reveling in their successes (71). For Gee, strategy games such as Rise of Nations do just that. As players build and command entire civilizations, they are given the opportunity to compete against other gamers in a real-time online environment.The opposite of abstract games like Tetris, Rise of Nations forces players to find history by making history. Though Gee provides readers with a detailed description of the game and its various intricacies, he is most persuasive when discussing how role-playing games such as Rise of Nations open up the possibilities for new forms of learning environments. Throughout the chapter, Gee makes it clear that there is nothing about the ways in which a game like Rise of Nations recruits thinking and learning that could not be done in public schools (88). Gee once again uses the field of science as an example of how this might be done. Readers are forced to imagine a “box world” where students take on the role of a scientist in a real-time digital strategy space. The intellectual immersion required to succeed in such a digital space would likely require students gain a deeper understanding of the rules and definitions taught in class. This is because the built-in affordanes created by designers would require that gamers develop an “authentic professional expertise” in order to succeed (88). Students, therefore, become the active participants in their own learning rather empty vessels waiting to be filled with knowledge. For Gee, this is the true potential of role-playing games – they give learners the opportunity to enjoy the process of learning.
Gee begins Chapter 8 with a brief discussion of how role-playing games allow gamers to build up “professional expertise” over an extended time period (92). If we are to accept Gee’ definition of role-playing games, we must agree that these digital spaces allow players and virtual characters to share a developmental capacity (92). Therefore, players must develop and carry out an online life history that is not their own - this is a key feature in role-playing games. The gamer is given a character that is not fully-formed. Because the persona of the character is not already developed, the player and designer must co-author the experience of the game. Using the role-playing game Elder Scrolls III as an example, Gee is able to build a convincing argument concerning the interactivity and enjoyment players experience while playing these games. In Chapter 9, Gee connects role-playing games to learning by pointing out how such games force gamers to think about and reflect on concepts of identity. As a result of these embodied experiences, gamers “come to see identity as something that is built up through choice and actions” (113). In other words, gamers are forced to consider the notion of identity as something that is not static. The results of the decisions, transitions, and stages in the game dictate how their virtual character can behave and interact within the “box worlds” created by designers. For Gee, the real power is in the ways in which role-playing games force gamers to “reflect on their own identities, fantasies, and hopes in the world” (114). With this argument, Gee finally gestures toward to his personal definition of the human soul. Because Gee finds such reflection “absolutely crucial” to our survival and happiness as humans, role-playing games are inherently good for gamers.
As was the case earlier in book, Gee’s definition of the soul remains ambiguous. Unfortunately, many readers will be left wondering whether or not role-playing offer gamers an escape from reality rather than an opportunity to reflect and think critically about it. Gee’s refusal to discuss the compulsive (sometimes addictive) qualities of role-playing games will likely leave detractors wondering if he is willing to think critically about the potential negative effects of loosing yourself in a digital identity.
Gee ends the book on a somewhat cautionary note. In fact, the book’s conclusive chapter can be read as an attempt to qualify much of what has already been discussed. Gee begins by suggesting that storyline-driven (role-playing games) offer differing levels of complexity. His goal in this section is to clearly suggest that not all storyline-driven role-playing games are the same. Therefore, his analysis is not always applicable to grey-area games such as The Sims. Gee also admits that his “partial theory” does not accurately demonstrate the importance of story in video games. After making these qualitative statements, Gee once again makes the case that video games are digital worlds created by the imaginations of both designers and players: “worlds in a box” (117). Though Gee does an outstanding job of explaining the trajectory of embodied experiences found in video games, his final chapter does little to demonstrate how good video games mend torn souls. This is, in part, due to the fact that Gee seems unwilling to acknowledge what might be bad for your mental and spiritual wellbeing. Gee’s refusal to distinguish the mind from the soul will also leave readers wondering if the book’s title is a bit misleading.
In many ways, James Paul Gee’s Why Video Games Are Good For Your Soul acts as a prequel to his earlier work What Video Games Have to Teach Us About Learning and Literacy. In both works, Gee’s theoretical approach remains consistent. As readers, we are given many of the arguments found in Gee’s most recent works: learning is interactive, deep learning comes from an extended engagement, learning is based on situated practice. We are also given familiar criticisms of the skill-and-drill assessment strategies found in public school systems. As readers, we are asked to envision the potential for good video games in various scientific fields. Where Gee’s previous effort separates itself from his most recent work is in its tireless effort to define and contextualize how certain genres of video games yield specific intellectual benefits for gamers. Gee’s rhetorical strategy is to move readers from abstract games like Tetris, on to basic storyline-driven games like Castlevania, and then on more complex role-playing games that allow for a co-authored experience. In doing so, Gee is able to effectively demonstrate how good video games have the potential to nurture some of our most important intellectual needs. Where Gee’s rhetoric tends to fall flat is in his suggestion that video games are somehow good for the soul. Gee’s refusal to explore the ideologically laden messages given to gamers may cause readers to feel as if he simply defending all video games regardless of their content. This becomes particularly difficult to swallow in an age where many video games feature images of terrorism, rape, murder, and abuse. Gee’s non-secular definition of the soul will also leave many readers wondering why he chose this particular route as opposed to a discussion of the human mind. With this being said, Gee’s book does offer readers, especially those who are not familiar with gaming culture, a unique insight into the intellectual complexities of gaming experiences. Because Gee is so cleverly equipped to pull this off, most readers likely come away from this book with a clear idea of how the embodied experiences of “box worlds” have the potential to benefit learners in the real world.
Works Cited
Gee, James Paul. Good Video Games and Good Learning. New York: Lang, 2007.
- - Why Video Games are Good For Your Soul. Australia: Common Ground, 2005.
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