When
I try explaining to people my interest in pervasive games, I’ve found that my
most common starting point has become “You know, like Pokémon Go, but…”
It’s
fascinating how, since only last summer, Pokémon Go has effectively come to
define a whole genre of games that merge the physical and in-game worlds – a
genre that has existed for at least two decades. Digital technology has seen numerous
transformations in this period, including the opening of GPS for civilian use
in 2000, and the development of smartphones with high-speed mobile broadband
from the end of the last decade. As these technologies have become more
accessible, brought together in singular devices and now adopted to satisfy
popular culture, pervasive games have evolved from niche, experimental art
projects to a mainstream leisure activity.
I
myself am a regular player of Pokémon Go, having continued playing after the
initial surge of excitement in the summer. I still load up the game each day to
catch Pokémon, obtain items from Pokéstops, and try to hatch Pokémon eggs as I
walk. During this time I’ve had lots of opportunity to think about how Pokémon
Go sits within this wider context of pervasive games.
Here,
I want to focus particularly on what Pokémon Go does well and could do better
with the current technology; and what we can learn about the potential of
pervasive games from different examples of how digital technology has been used
for playful purposes.
What
are pervasive games?
Traditionally,
playing games has entailed demarcating spaces, times and people to which the norms
of everyday life are temporarily suspended, and the game rules dictate action. Participants
enter these zones voluntarily, and agree on a range of activities – which may
seem abnormal, socially unacceptable or pointless in real life – that are
interpreted as playful and given new meaning in the context of the game. Johann
Huizinga referred to this phenomenon as a magic
circle – a separate world within the ‘real world’ that created new
opportunities for imagination and stimulation through play, without being unnecessarily
restricted by existing social norms and behaviours.
The
distinctive quality of pervasive games is how they expand the magic circle to incorporate
elements of real life. This expansion can be:
Spatial: Not geographically limited to
spaces such as the playing field, the board or the games console. The game
space can be very large (e.g. worldwide) or confined to a small area, and integrates
the real-world environment in which people play.
Temporal: Not confined to certain
times/time limits. The game can be ongoing – always in progress and with no
envisaged end point – or can occur over long timescales such as weeks,
months and years. Players often fit the game around other events in their
lives.
Social: Not limited to a defined set of
willing participants. Not only may players come and go from the game, but
bystanders may be unwittingly implicated in the game’s activities. Players may
be uncertain as to who is playing and who isn’t.
Pervasive
games therefore embrace the real-world context (spaces, times and social life)
in which the activity takes place, while also re-interpreting it through the
rules of the game, giving everyday things new meaning or relevance. Rather than
marking out a separate realm for imagination, then, pervasive games can enable
players to engage with the already-existing world in a critical and creative
way, re-enchanting ordinary aspects of everyday life.
Engaging
with place
My
main issue with Pokémon Go is that it misses out on much of this creative
potential, because the gameplay’s interaction with the real world is largely superficial. When playing, I’m not
engaging with the distinct and diverse features of the place I’m walking
through. Instead, this complexity is flattened; reduced to cursory characteristics
such as the presence of landmarks – notably,
not their (hi)stories – distance walked, and locations where Pokémon spawn. I
learn little about the qualities that make the places I visit unique and
interesting. In fact I’m discouraged from looking up from my phone at all, in
case I miss a Pokémon.
The
result is that I have effectively the same level of engagement as when I play a
Pokémon game on a games console, in which I can also visit landmarks, walk my
eggs and find Pokémon. This is because I’m still mostly reliant on a world
represented on-screen to be engaged. The only significant difference is that I
can get exercise and fresh air as I walk around, which is positive for health purposes
but not for creating innovative experiences.
One
potential positive is that, by bringing me outside and encouraging me to walk
around, the game gives me the option to explore places further if I want to. But
this choice is largely independent of the game itself. Nothing about the game's
design makes me want to look away from the screen and interact more mindfully
with the environment. The desire to explore has to come totally from me.
An
example of a pervasive game that provokes deeper interaction between the player
and their physical environment is Geocaching.
Geocaching is a GPS-led treasure-hunting game where players hide containers
(‘caches’) in public places, sharing their coordinates and hints online so
other players can look for them. Once found, players mark their discovery by
signing logbooks located both inside the containers and online.
Here,
the technology only takes players so far. Once players are in the vicinity of
the cache, they must look away from their screens and use their senses to
investigate the smallest details of the site; physically interacting with the
environment to uncover the hidden container. Meanwhile, each cache has an
online description that describes interesting details about its location, often
including historical context, wildlife, things to see and do nearby, or
personal stories that the cache owner wants to share about the place. On the
same webpage, geocachers can share their own experiences of the location during
the search for the cache. The virtual and physical components of the game together
enable participants to interact with places in an insightful and exciting way.
So
while the technology in Geocaching is
used to reveal what is remarkable about the place,
the opposite is true in Pokémon Go, where basic details about the place are
crudely extracted and mapped onto the player’s smartphone screen to coordinate
the gameplay.
The
limits of technology
Indeed,
the technology is everything in Pokémon Go. When that fails or isn’t running,
the game fails – it is unplayable. Yet in Geocaching it is the unreliability of
the GPS itself, which varies depending on the device and quality of the
satellite connection, that makes the treasure hunt a more thorough, challenging
and ultimately rewarding task. The game acknowledges the limits of the
technology and uses them to foster a more mindful and sensual interaction with
the physical environment.
Blast Theory’s work has taken the idea of addressing technology’s limitations a step
further, using the medium of pervasive games to explore what digital media can
and can’t offer us for interacting with places and other people. In Uncle Roy All Around You – one of the
early examples of pervasive games back in 2003 – individual ‘street players’
are given handheld computers that show maps and instructions from Uncle Roy,
which they must use to find his office located somewhere in the city. At the same time, online players at computer
screens are shown a virtual representation of the street players’ surroundings,
and can help to direct them to Uncle Roy’s office by sending them messages. Once
the street player has found the office, both players are invited to participate
in a further act of trust – would they be willing to make a year-long
commitment to be there for a stranger in a moment of crisis? If a player
agrees, they are paired with another consenting player and their contact
details are shared.
The
dual online and physical components of the gameplay juxtapose the immediate, detached
characteristics of computer-based interaction with the complex, messy world of
real-life places and relationships. Online players are unable to account for the
range of obstacles and events that street players could encounter as they
navigate the vibrant urban landscape, such as traffic and other
pedestrians. Moreover, simply sending anonymous messages is a far cry from
providing the emotional support needed to help someone in a crisis. Yet by interrogating
these boundaries of interaction in the game, Blast Theory managed to enlist over
250 pairs of players to commit to being there for each other over the period of
a whole year.
It
was the hybridity of the experience in
Uncle Roy – the uncertain attempts to traverse the real and the virtual through
communication technology – that gave players the opportunity to think
critically about trust, support, and the boundaries between reality and fiction
in a society increasingly mediated by online relationships and digital
representations of the self. Whereas in Pokémon Go, the experience is so subservient
to the smartphone that thoughtful engagement with these boundaries is
dwarfed by the absorbing on-screen gameplay.
Pokémon
Go could learn from a variety of mixed-reality artworks produced in the last two decades, including audiowalks (e.g. The Missing Voice; LINKED) and oral history projects (e.g. [murmur]), which have demonstrated how careful balance between virtual and
physical components enables each element to reveal something extraordinary about
the other. The title of another Blast Theory work – A Machine to See With – encapsulates this idea of a widened
perspective on social relationships and narratives, rather than a vision
narrowed to the space of the smartphone screen.
Community
building and innovation
To Pokémon
Go’s credit, however, the format of the game has had some intriguing and mostly
positive effects for building community.
Many who have played the game will be familiar with the experience of spotting,
and even making conversation with, other players of the game when in locations
that host Pokéstops and Gyms. For a while in the summer it felt like the game
had completely revolutionised public interactions, as an array of landmarks and
spawn sites for rare Pokémon became hubs of player activity.
The
more long-lasting impact, however, has been the establishment of online groups
of Pokémon Go players within local areas. Although these groups are independent
of the game, it is the game’s reliance on information sharing – to help players
discover previously unfound Pokémon – that has encouraged players to talk to each
other, share anecdotes and even meet up in real life to socialise. Being a
member of one such group has taken me to places I wouldn’t have gone otherwise
in search of rare Pokémon, leading to some memorable days out with my sister
and five-year-old nephew. This certainly represents a social expansion of the
magic circle; one that is creative of new relationships between people and the
places they visit.
The
game’s extensive social influence has meant that, unlike any other example, Pokémon
Go has led to unprecedented awareness and interest in pervasive games. For me,
this has been Pokémon Go’s most important intervention. The game’s popularity has
hopefully enabled those in the creative industries to consider digital, mobile
and locative technologies more seriously as tools for crafting innovative
interactive experiences.
The
reason why I’m particularly keen to draw attention to past examples of
pervasive games is to enable prospective artists and developers to appreciate the
creative potential of the medium,
rather than just attempting to copy Pokémon Go’s formula or applying it to
other franchises, which no doubt could also be lucrative. There is already talk
about developing a Harry Potter Go game
– a prospect that has excited many fans of the series, and will have left plenty in the games
industry seeing dollar signs.
But
as mobile digital technologies and our relationships with them continue to evolve,
it would be more beneficial to see developers experimenting with pervasive games, exploring the range of human
experiences they can and can’t offer. For playful art gives us unique
opportunities to test different configurations of virtual and physical activity
in an engaging way, as our everyday lives are increasingly distributed between
the two.
Let’s
use these lessons from Pokémon Go as a step forward in the pursuit of this
ambition.
Further
reading
This very useful summary of what pervasive games
are. If you look on the same blog, you’ll also find some interesting
discussions on the design and safety of pervasive games.
An excellent academic paper about Geocaching and
re-enchanting the city by Maja Klausen, which also talks about the expansion of
the magic circle.
This insightful article written when Pokémon Go
was first released by Professor Steve Benford (who has collaborated with Blast
Theory on a number of projects) on the wider context and issues around
pervasive games.