Game Design as Cultural Practice

Gender and Race in The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion

One of my favorite video games to play right now is The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. It is a great example of a modern adventure game because the world in which it is set so vast and the paths of exploration are so open-ended. However, while on one hand it is a great example of a modern video game, on the other it still seems to fall prey to the same gender and race stereotypes as many of the video games that came before it.

To be honest, at first I did not realize how much of a role gender played in the game. In fact, I was quite pleased to see that sexuality seems to play almost no role in the game at all. While the female characters do wear different clothing (skirts and dresses instead of pants) the clothing is far from sexually charged. In addition, the facial structures and hair styles are different depending on gender, but also tastefully so. (You can see an example of the typical female character below.) However, I found out only later in the game that the differences between males and females are even greater than I realized. It turns out (and this is not made obvious in the game) that gender effects the basic skills of your character. Males often have higher strength, agility and endurance while females excel in intelligence willpower and speed. Unfortunately, these differences seems to be quite stereotypical and somewhat biased towards male characters.

Nevertheless, the gender differences pale in comparison to the use of race in the game. Oblivion has ten 'races' total. Among these are the three more 'animal' races: Khajiit (jaguar men), Orc, and Argonians (reptilian); the seemingly white races: Wood Elves, High Elves, Nords, Bretons, and Imperials; the black race: Redguard; and the Dark Elves (which are "dark-skinned," but in a more purplish way [1]). Not only are the Redguard clearly outnumbered, but they seem to be stereotypically black. The Redguard are "the most naturally talented warriors" benefitting from increased speed and strength [2]. What is most interesting about this set up is that it is totally unnecessary. The character creation screen already has a skin tone adjustment. Why not just let any of the characters be adjustable to any skin tone? Why limit the "the most naturally talented warriors" to black and all others (excluding the animals) to white?

In these ways Oblivion fails to break free of the common biases that seem to plague the video game industry. It is somewhat disheartening that such cultural set-backs can persist in an industry that is advancing so rapidly.

[1] http://www.elderscrolls.com/codex/races_darkelf.htm
[2] http://www.elderscrolls.com/codex/races_redguard.htm

KotOR, Bastila, and a Failure in Values

When creating its content, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic (KotOR) has the advantage of drawing from an IP that has been fleshed out tremendously since its inception.  As such, there is an impressive array of character types - both physically and mentally - which illustrates several positions the designers have taken (perhaps inadvertently) on issues of race and gender: the link between African tribes and Wookies with respect to selling their own people as slaves, Jedi Jolee Bindo as a magical negro, the treatment of the Mandalorian race, and many others.  However, all of these are overshadowed by the character of the primary female NPC, Bastila Shan.  The attitudes towards gender encapsulated by her character, both in a narrative sense and a gameplay sense, ultimately imply a much less positive image than one would expect from a character intended as a "strong woman."

At the opening of the game, Bastila is presented as a war hero, almost a superhero - a woman chosen for a crack assault team, responsible for defeating the present Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Revan, and user of an incredibly rare force power, Battle Meditation, that increases the morale of her allies while decreasing that of her foes in a scope that can include battles on a planetary scale.  All of these are swiftly subverted.  The player's avatar and another character ridicule her for being captured upon crash-landing on the first planet in the game in an escape pod because her lightsaber rolled under her seat, totally ignoring the fact that when your (possibly, and by official word canonically, male) character crash-landed, they were tended to by another party member until they regained consciousness.  She is shown to have been included in the strike force sent to capture Revan not because her own skill or merit - in fact, she's frequently derided as hotheaded - but singularly because of her special ability, in a manner echoing a woman receiving a position not on merit but because of a desirable physical attribute.  Lastly, in the largest reveal of the game, she is shown to have not defeated Revan - Revan's apprentice Darth Malak had actually done that - but rather saved Revan's life while erasing their mind so the Jedi council could use Revan as a tool to find a powerful Jedi artifact.  In the scenes that follow, she is captured (for the second time in the game) and eventually falls to the Dark Side herself, prompting the player to fight her on several occasions.  She is redeemable, but in another questionable decision, this is only easy to do if the main character is male and has followed through a romantic subplot with Bastila.  As such, over the course of the game, her persona - a strong female character - is picked apart as a facade for plot purposes.

Her prowess in-game reflects elements of this as well.  Firstly, her weapon of choice is a double-bladed lightsaber, a weapon that all but the most devoted of Star Wars fans will remember as used exclusively by the villain of Episode I, Darth Maul.  Of the dual-weapon-wielding options within the game, it is the weaker choice, as it allows less customization of special weapon properties than two lightsabers; nearly all strategy guides suggest two separate weapons if dual-wielding is to be used.  More notably, over the course of the game Bastila leaves the party, when she is taken captive and subsequently turns to the Dark Side; when the player has her rejoin, either redeemed or otherwise, the player has no control over how her skills and powers are assigned, to the extent that she may have lost what abilities the player gave her when she *was* part of the team.  In many cases the game reconfigures her to have less-than useful abilities; in effect, the game makes her a substandard choice, compared to *any* of the other characters, all of whose growth the player has control over from the point where they join on.  Lastly, if a player *had* chosen to use her, but did not expect that she would be captured or turn, the player is suddenly without a their primary team member, in a manner that does not happen to any other character over the course of the game.  These factors combine to make Bastila one of the least attractive characters, and certainly least attractive Jedi option, for inclusion in the player's party.

What exactly does this tell us of the attitude of the developers towards women?  It rather neatly fits into the model of the Hegemony of Play: nearly all of the design team for the game was male; we see the game designed as pandering to a male player, with official Star Wars canon placing the main character as male and the 'most fulfilling' ending being most obtainable only if the main character is male; the character notionally introduced as the strong female is deconstructed into a thoroughly flawed, often contradictory, and frequently unlikeable character, a fact lampooned in the second game by one of the returning characters, an assassin droid:

"Statement: Oh, yes. My master had quite the collection of tortured individuals that seemed unable to confront their basic personality conflicts. Let me cite some specific examples. [...] [impersonates Bastila Shan] Mockery: "Oh, master, I love you but I hate everything you stand for, but I think we should go press our slimy, mucous-covered lips together in the cargo hold!" Conclusion: Such pheromone-driven Human responses never cease to decrease the charge in my capacitors and make me wish I could press a blaster pistol to my behavior core and pull the trigger. I am pleased that this does not seem to be the case with your current entourage."

If one agrees with Laurel's ideas about values (62-66), then one might wonder: what exactly is Bastila teaching us?  That women are only useful for their 'special talents'?  That they will act irrationally and turn on you whenever it is convenient for them to do so?  That their poor decisions will make them ineffective and ruin whatever plans that men (as clearly the player is intended to be male) have to do Important Things?  She allows no change, no real possibility to solve her problems in a natural, rational way; her change of sides is written in stone, as are her mood swings.  The best the player can do is redeem her - if seen through the eyes of KotOR, does every woman need a man watching over her to keep her from a fall, from madness?  In this respect, the game makes no effort at all to bring a positive change, to display values better than that toed by the hegemonic line.

When asked for their opinions on Bastila, many KotOR players will use words like "annoying," "hypocritical," even "bitchy."  Considering the image she is originally presented with - war heroine, shining ray of hope for the good guys, overall a positive character - it makes it difficult to take other gender and race issues the game raises seriously, or conceive of them in a positive life.  Perhaps the designers embrace better, less offensive values there, but given the level of outright offensiveness and failure that they manifested in Bastila, it somehow seems a little farfetched.

--Evan

A (Bullet) Hell of a Thing to Understand

Gamers and game creators sort - or at least try to sort - games into genres, typically based on particular common threads in their mechanics.  More and more, we see games transcending simple labeling, as mechanics previously unique to one genre are borrowed and inserted in another, but in some cases we see games emerge that are further refinements of their particular type.  Surprisingly, examining the refinements can reveal very different values from the original genre, despite the similarities.

Danmaku games, more commonly called "bullet hell" games, are one such genre refinement.  Their parent genre is one of the foremost embodiments of "twitch" gameplay - something appears, you shoot it if you can, dodge it if you can't, and you do it right damn now.  Danmaku games use a similar operational premise - things show up and shoot at the player, and the player needs to survive - but what it changes is the volume of fire (the exact translation of 'danmaku' is "bullet curtain", like what you might get out of an artillery barrage).  Enemies will fire ten or fifteen bullets instead of one or two; minibosses might shoot volleys of fifty; a boss might all but cover the screen with shots.  To compensate, the hitbox of the character - where they must take a shot to die - is greatly reduced, frequently to nine or fewer pixels.  Frequently, these games place greater emphasis on the boss fights than they do traversing stages and fighting standard enemies.

Examining one such boss fight - specifically, the true final boss of one of the best-known danmaku games, Mushihime-sama - one can very easily see how the games earned the apellation "bullet hell."  More importantly, one can also begin to see the different values embedded in the mechanics of danmaku games and its parent genre.  A boss in a standard top-down shooter might fire a laser, or a spread of bullets; the player must react to this and get out of the way, and then react to the next attack selected from its set of available options, and so forth.  The danmaku player must similarly react to the attack of the boss, but notably, there is very little variation in the boss' attacks in any given part of the fight with that boss.  One must comprehend their attack pattern and understand how to endure it; the reaction component, while still important, is de-emphasized.  Standard top-down shooters reward flexibility, the ability to deal with things as they come; danmaku games, while still giving flexibility a nod, seem to hold comprehension, the understanding of what is going on, more.  Moreover, as evidenced by the exacting moves required to survive some attacks, these games also value perfection, almost to the degree of enforcing it for the player to survive the more brutal attack patterns in the game (1:44).

One can also see that danmaku games change the way the player must interact with the game space.  Top-down shooters generally require the player to pay attention to their ship and the boss (which will allow them to see where the boss' attacks will be directed) during a fight.  Danmaku games require that as well as reading the bullet patterns themselves; their motion over time may change in unexpected ways, as evidenced by some of the arcs of fire in the early parts of the video, and the player must watch them (or have memorized them) so that they can react appropriately.  This change - the additional variable to keep track of - forces the player to modify their perception of the game, especially if they are more familiar with the more breakneck, less exacting normal shooter.  Oftentimes, the only way to successfully do this is to try - and fail - repeatedly; the system of the game can only really be understood by interacting with it.

Given the shift in values embraced by the mechanics, it seems odd that danmaku games would be a refinement, a "taken to the nth degree" for the top-down shooter genre.  The emphasis of precision and understanding over pure reflexes suggests a more cerebral direction - not exactly what one would consider the root of the ur-shooter.  Perhaps this suggests that genre and value have little actual relation.

--Evan

The Women of Red Alert 2

Command and Conquer: Red Alert 2 was released in 2000. It was released during a period where the ideal market was still the hardcore gamer (unlike the more casual gamers being targeted today). The designers and producers were still mostly run by white, middle-aged men. As such, women tended to be modeled in ways that would appeal to the ideals of the producers and the perceived audience. Women in Red Alert 2 are actually portrayed in two very different ways, and both seem to fit well into the male stereotype.

 

The American forces have a specialty unit named Tanya. Tanya is a specially trained super agent. Despite this, she does not wear professional military gear. Instead she wears a low cut tank top and fairly high-cut shorts. She carries a pair of pistols and can take out almost any unit before they even get a chance to attack. She talks tough and doesn’t take crap from anyone. Tanya portrays a dominant woman in a world ruled by men. However, this is where the gameplay plays into this stereotype. Red Alert 2 is a tactics game, so the players are in control of the units. In this case, the player is given direct control over this hot-headed woman. He gets to decide how she moves and what actions she takes. And as if that wasn’t good enough, Tanya carries a set of thermal detonators. She can blow up buildings.

 

On the Soviet side there is another woman, this one more subtle. Lieutenant Zofia first represents the American idea of the Soviets as traitorous. She starts out by watching from the sidelines. But as time progresses and the player proves himself in a series of battles, she begins to make herself known to the player. Eventually Zofia sides with the player (who plays as the Soviet general) because she claims she believe he will win. But the entire time she is seen to be hedging her bets slightly. It is not until the very end when the player has won that she throws her full support behind him. Zofia is also used as a subtle seductress who sometimes makes overt remarks to the player. She tries to play up her sex appeal to give the player some eye candy while he tries to pretend to be fighting for “The Honor of Mother Russia!”

 

The game industry has a history of playing up the female stereotype. Command and Conquer: Red Alert 2 is certainly a guilty party. But things are changing. Characters are becoming more vague, allowing men and women to play the same game and project themselves onto the character. The industry is searching for the next low budget casual game like Brain Age or Puzzle Quest that still sells millions of copies to combat the rising price of game production. Nintendo is leading the way in opening the market to more casual players. But other companies are also following suit. Electronic Arts is doing similar things with Pogo and Rock Band. The industry is headed towards a more all encompassing strategy that will include everyone under the title of “gamer.”

 

-Michael Gorbsky

Blogpost 5: Gender, Race & Representation

   

The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time is an interesting piece to consider when analyzing the roles of gender, race, and representation, because it uses all three to create a living, breathing world for the player to explore.
    Now when inspecting gender roles within The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, it is important to note that male characters (at least the Hyrulians) are mainly background characters, the equivalent of a chorus; the women of Hyrule, however, are key characters.
    The men of Ocarina of Time fall into two categories: forces of evil, and wise guides.  The player’s avatar, Link, is male.  The player is not given a choice of gender as a design decision, since every Legend of Zelda game is recounting the story of Link, the Hero of Time.  Ganondorf, the is the main antagonist of Ocarina of Time, as he strives to capture Zelda and the triforce pieces in order to gain control over the land of Hyrule.  Another character worthy of note is Ingo.  Now, Ingo is not a force of evil, but merely a cynical metaphor of human nature.  When Link first visits Lon Lon Ranch, Talon, the owner of the ranch, is a kind hearted man, but is extremely lazy.  Ingo, on the other hand, is a hard worker who schemes maliciously against Talon.  After retrieving the Master Sword and returning 7 years later to the ranch, Link discovers that Ingo has taken over the ranch and forced Talon to do the dirty work that was once reserved for Ingo.  These two male characters do not have any deep impact on the world of Hyrule, yet it calls into question the ethical dilemmas that arise in a free market economy.  Other male characters serve as wise guides to Link on his journey.  It is important to note that only one of these male guides, Rauru, is Hylian.  The Great Deku Tree, King Zora, and Kaepora Gaebora, are all considered male, yet are all non-humanoid characters: a tree, a merman, and an owl respectively.
    The women fall into two categories: semi-omnipotent guides, and warriors / guardians.  The first encounter the player has with any NPCs is with Navi.  Navi is a female fairy that comes to Link at the beginning of the game and acts as his guide throughout the game.  She is one of the most pivotal characters in the game in terms of assisting the player.  It is interesting to think how the main guiding character for the player in The Ocarina of Time is female.  Perhaps this is a cultural bias embedded in the game, having a female character as a maternal guide for the player throughout the game.  The very next character the player meets is Saria, Link’s childhood friend.  Saria also acts as a guide for the player.  When Link leaves the Kokiri forest for the first time, Saria gives him an ocarina, and teaches him Saria’s Song.  Whenever Link plays her song, the player can ask Saria for help.  The female characters also take the roles of warriors and guardians for Link.  The Princess Zelda may appear to take on the cliche role of damsel in distress, but in actuality, she helps Link throughout his journey disguised as the Sheikah named Sheik.  As Sheik, Zelda stays one step ahead of Link throughout the adult story line, warning link of the dangers ahead and hinting at what items may be needed or what characters Link may need to speak to before attempting to conquer the next temple.  Princes Ruto of the Zoras and Nabooru of the Gerudos, are also very powerful figures through The Ocarina of Time story line.
    There are also many races found throughout the land of Hyrule.  The Hylians are the equivalent of humans, accept they have pointed ears.  They inhabit the north in Hyrule Castle Town, Northeast in Kakariko Village, and the Southwest on the shore of Lake Hylia.  The Gorons are boulder people who reside in the North East, further up Death Mountain than Kakariko Village, in the Goron city.  The Gorons are peaceful people who resemble boulders.  Their society is a patriarchal tribe.  The Zoras are an amphibious people who reside in the east in the Zoras Domain.  The Zora society is a monarchy, yet Princess Ruto seems to have more control than King Zora.  The Gerudos are a band of female thieves living in a fortress to the west.  Finally, the Kokiri are the forest children to the South East.  These difference races and cultures present in The Ocarina of Time are so fantastical that no immediate comparison can be made to the real world.  But the races do coexist peacefully in the land of Hyrule and ultimately band together to defeat Ganondorf.  Perhaps this is a form of idealism in hopes of serving as an example for the real world.
    The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time is interesting in how it portrays the different roles of gender, race, and culture in the fictional world of Hyrule.  The women of Hyrule are both enlightened maternal guides for the player, as well as warriors and guardians.  The different races, despite their differences, also seek to help the player along their journey according to their respective talents and abilities unique to each race.

Gender Roles As a Deterrent

John Michael Courson

There is no doubt that the video game industry is dominated by male oriented games. This has been very clear over the past few decades, especially before the more recent acceptance of “casual gamers”. Most video games are biased towards males, specifically white or Asian males depending on the game or genre. A wonderful example of this bias can be seen in Konami’s Lost in Blue (alternatively Survival Kids in Japan). Lost in Blue is a game for the Nintendo DS in which the player must help a white male and female survive on an apparently uninhabited island. The gameplay consists of finding food, making tools out of the island’s resources, keeping the two character’s vitals up, and exploring the island with the ultimate goal of getting off of the island.

The gender and cultural biases are apparent within the first few minutes of gameplay. The player starts by taking control of the male character (often referred to as the “hero”) and must find food and shelter as well as a way to make a fire. At this point, the male is alone and he must fend for himself. During the second day of the game, the male happens to discover a female named Skye washed onto the shore. He brings Skye back to the cave he found the previous day and she remains there for most of the game. The player never gets to control Skye, and keeping her vitals up becomes an annoying responsibility. The male takes on the role of explorer, hunter, provider, protector, and engineer, while Skye becomes the cook and rope maker. 

 The game consists of large bouts of exploration, eventually to the point in which the male character must leave the cave for days at a time in order to make it to the other side of the island and solve various puzzles in order to escape the island. This becomes extraordinarily annoying because the player must stockpile food, water, and wood in order for Skye to survive while he is gone. Also, the player has to make beds, shelves, and other storage containers in order to safely leave Skye for the necessary amount of time. Skye happens to be a much better cook than the guy, however he has to hunt, fish, and gather spices in order for her to cook anything worth eating.

There are a few moments in the game in which the male needs Skye’s help to progress, which might have made me feel a little less overwhelmed by the blatant gender and cultural biases, but the way in which this was implemented made the biases even worse. In order to receive Skye’s help, the hero must lead her to the appropriate area by hand and the player must also push around logs as stepping stones since Skye is not as good a climber as the hero. These escort moments tend to be incredibly frustrating because they take twice as long with Skye than without, and during this wasted time both character’s vitals are dropping.

The gender and cultural biases here are very obvious. The female is relegated to housekeeping and cooking tasks, however she is unable to even start a fire by herself. You must leave her enough wood to keep the fire going, otherwise you better make it back to the cave fast before she starves to death. The male is given all of the traditionally male roles. The most interesting thing about these biases is that they ruin the play experience in my opinion. The game would be much more fun if the female was as self-sufficient as the male or if perhaps they could take turns in exploring the island. Instead, caring for Skye becomes an annoyance and the game is no longer fun. Having such a useless female character was unbelievable to me, and I question the designers’ decision in these regards. It would be remiss not to mention the second game mode that is unlocked after beating the first one. The player takes the role of Skye and is limited to cooking and gathering spices. Every once in a while one can give advice to the hero, but this game mode is incredibly boring and makes Skye’s uselessness even more apparent.

This may be a slightly more severe example of the condition of video games, however these sorts of roles are more common than not. Many game genres have scenarios in which females must be escorted by male leads. These scenarios in my opinion are always the worst parts of the game. I still remember one of the common mantras on a show called X-Play that reviewed current and upcoming video games: “We hate escort missions”. These types of gender roles isolate the video game market to male players, and quite frankly as a male “gamer” I am becoming fed up with them. Unless the game industry allows a discussion of developing games for females and other “minorities”, they are missing out on a chance to tap into a surprisingly large market.

Gender & Diversity in Guild 2

Guild 2 is a strategy/action game that offers a variety of play experiences to an otherwise hegemonic world of popular computer games. Published by JoWooD Productions, 4HEAD Studio in 2006, the game takes you to 15th century Europe, medieval times, and offers four (! - it is empowering and fun to have customized game rules) ways to play the game: as extinction, dynasty, time limit, or a mission (get rich, climb the ladder, turn prosecutor, turn criminal). The time period of 1400s and the location (towns/villages of German, French and English countryside) simplify game play and set Western European culture as a point of reference. Your character gets to be one of four classes (patron, scholar, craftsman, and rogue) and hence the business styles are rather limited (patron-farmer, inn keeper, food seller; scholar-alchemic, priesthood; craftsman-tools and clothing seller; rogue-steeling, pick-pocketing, crime).

Various aspects of the game may appeal to women in particular. It is a role-playing game. It shares some similarities with the Sims and Civilization. Guild 2 introduces unusual (to gaming) experiences of being able to court and simulate a love affair, build a family and a dynasty, get involved in politics and climb the social hierarchy. The game requires close attention to detail of social context – a skill where a large portion of female population might consider themselves the pros (http://www.gamespot.com/pc/strategy/theguild2/review.html).

The masculine values commonly associated with the “gamble” aspects of the game are certainly present.  For example, when in extinction mode your goal is to “eliminate other dynasties.” What happened to peaceful co-existence? Further, among the affordances in your interaction with other characters you can attack, rob, threaten, pride, blackmail, and “finish someone off.” As such, the 15th century community was built/coded with “a particular vision of community, identity, and social life” in mind (Taylor, 2003, p. 28). Violence, crime, and unlawfulness were not only part of the 15th century lifestyle but also constitute the notion of play and entertainment.

On the positive side, Guild 2 has very little of bloody violence. We may recall Brenda Laurel’s research at Purple Moon that found that “girls didn’t mind violence so much as they disliked the lack of good stories and characters” (2001, p. 40). In that respect, Guild 2 appeals to players like myself because it offers more than bare killing and running around. It offers other sets of goals such as the survival of your dynasty and success in a political arena. The game play is not very innovative but entertaining nevertheless. In this game you can actually acquire a husband!

In terms of character representation Guild 2 is rather limited. One can choose a class, sex, zodiac sign (wow), religion (Catholic or Protestant), and a set of talents (which includes empathy though I am not sure how useful it is).  Playing a female character you get very limited customization in terms of facial features, hair color/style, body build (different degrees of bust-waist dimensions but all are flattering), and voice. Limited character mods probably due to the cost factor associated with changing the code (Taylor, 2003). Diversity of characters may also introduce complexity in storyline that was not part of the original plan (were the decision-makers a homogeneous group?). As a result you won’t find any none-white characters or NPCs. Is it justified by the historical time period or the location (German, French, British villages)? Perhaps, but not entirely. “Supporting personalization is a powerful and graceful way to acknowledge and celebrate differences,” and yet the producers of the game did not take advantage of it (Laurel, 2001, p. 51).  As suggested by Fron et al, it would have been important to articulate, “who the players are, and make it clear who is being included and excluded, for whatever reason” (Fron et al., 2007). The game clearly excludes color and ethnic diversity and offers only the basic “white” mode of existence/play/identity in a 15th century Europe.

Final Fantasy X-2: Falling Short of the Gender Gap

By all accounts, Final Fantasy X-2 is a blatant example of the sexism generally found in video games today, but the story also attempts to portray some more positive values amidst all of the fanservice. Take, for example, the short-shorts and the physics-defying shirt on the main character, Yuna (center) and the gratuitous string bikini and thong on the main character's younger cousin, Rikku (left). The sexualization of these two characters (compare to Yuna's previous look in the original game) has been heavily emphasized in these promotional images; and it is worth noting that this aspect is what Square-Enix has chosen to concentrate upon in their marketing. Paine, the character on the right, has too been given a punk look to fit the role of the requisite tough woman - although it is worth noting that her addition is primarily because the tough woman of the previous game has since become pregnant. The sex appeal of all three characters has been carefully packaged to appeal specifically to an audience of teenage boys, who were the target demographic of the original games. The original game, however, actually attracted (amongst other people) a strong female player-base; but because this group was not the target demographic, the advertisments and art direction for the game have largerly ignored them.

The narrative and game mechanics of Final Fantasy X-2, on the other hand, feature a bizarre and incoherent set of values. Individually, these values seem to have been intended for either male or female players. Therefore, these values together should theoretically have allowed the game to appeal to both demographics. I would argue that the game falls short of this admittedly admirable goal, however, because of the creators' reliance on existing archetypes of men and women - as they have existed in video games. According to FFX-2's story, for example, the distinct lack of practical clothing is intended to be both a disguise and a visual representation of their growing maturity and confidence. Yuna, for instance, previously wore a more conservative outfit reminiscent of a Shinto priestess. Now, while the color scheme and basic elements of the outfit still exist, the 'new' Yuna now manifests her confidence by flaunting her body and wielding a pair of guns. I won't deny that the concept of the strong female is a refreshing one in the male-dominated industry, as is noted in "The Hegemony of Play", but I hesitate to call this game revolutionary or ground-breaking. At the end of the day, the characters are still scantily-clad - and in fact, the game implies that they must be if they are to be perceived as strong female characters. This artistic choice reveals the "values embedded in mainstream videogames", and calls into question the understanding that the industry has of gender (Laurel 62). Similary, while the main characters are female, they are merely the adventurers in a world led and torn apart by a male triumvirate. While Yuna is the symbol of the new world, given her role of ending the last great threat to the world, she maintains little actual power. She even becomes a pawn in the triumvirate's power struggles, a plot point reinforced by the game mechanics when the player is forced to choose sides to progress in the game.

While I could go on ad infinitum about the various points in the game, suffice it to say that the game industry is starting to realize that there is a 'hegemony of play', but still has a long way to go before they manage to bridge the proverbial gap.

-Pauline

Gender and Representation in World of Warcraft

Blizzard Entertainment has spent nearly a decade developing, supporting, and refining World of Warcraft.  Since 2004, millions of players have purchased the game, creating avatars and exploring the lands of Azeroth and Draenor.  Blizzard has crafted an excellent gameplay experience, but after reading The Hegemony of Play and the Utopian Entrepreneur, I see WoW in a different light, and my own concerns with the game have attained some solidity.

Like other MMOs, one’s avatar is the primary mechanism for interaction in WoW.  At creation, the player can customize their avatar’s physical features, and it is here that issues regarding both gender and representation arise.  Players can select from 10 different races, each of which with distinct physical features.  Night elves are tall and purple-skinned, trolls are lanky, hunched, and blue.  Dwarves are short and stocky, where blood elves are universally tall and slender.

None of these racial paradigms can be altered.  Every male dwarf avatar is the same, when it comes to the 3D mesh that makes up their character.  There are neither tall dwarves nor short night elves.  Some customization is present – hairstyle, skin color, the graphic of the avatar’s face, and a racial/gender specific accessory slot allow for some degree of personalization.  But the limited palette of options does nothing to guarantee a unique look.

Related to this is the depiction of gender in World of Warcraft.  All male avatars are beefy and muscular – bulging biceps and broad shoulders.  Similarly, all female avatars are willowy and large-breasted (gnomes alarmingly so, given their height).  Furthermore, the differences in build and proportion between males and females of the same species are constant – males are taller and heavier than females.

"The hegemonic elite determines which technologies will be deployed, and which will not; which games will be made, and by which designers; which players are important to design for, and which play styles will be supported." (Fron et al, 1).  The design of World of Warcraft is carefully calculated to appeal to a specific demographic.  The ascetics of the game evoke the stereotypes of classic epic fantasy – muscular warrior-men and busty, slim-waisted valkyrie women.  Clothing, too, reflects this design decision.  Robes of Insight, a piece of chest armor, appears as a full-length yellow robe on a male avatar, but appears as a bikini top and a hip slit long skirt on female avatars.  Black Mageweave Leggings, leg armor, are solid black pants on males, but bikini bottoms and thigh-high leather boots on females.

These aesthetic design decisions can, and do, have an impact on play.  High-level armor is not only useful, it is in some cases necessary to progress through WoW’s more difficult areas.  The tiered raiding gear, 6 layers of progressively more powerful weapons and armor for every class, is a major component of WoW’s endgame.  Without them, players do not have the character power to fight many of the enemies and bosses in the highest level instances.  If the player of a female avatar does not want to dress their character according to the aesthetics of WoW’s design, they are left with no other options.  They can simply not raid – they can play other parts of the game or make a new character, but those well-designed chunks of endgame content will be inaccessible unless they equip their player with the appropriate gear.  Not all raid gear is designed with the epic fantasy mindset – some classes like warrior or paladin have effective, if body-hugging, plate armor to wear.  It is hardly fair, though, to demand a player create a character of a class different from the one they wish to play in order to access endgame content.

Does WoW contain elements that do not cater to the young male demographic?  Certainly.  Though defined by conflict and violence, WoW has content that is not directly related to combat.  The profession system, wherein players can gather and consume resources to craft items, offers a break from fighting.  Holidays and events are numerous, and offer players the chance to examine life in WoW from a very different angle from the norm.  However, these elements are still part of the game’s overarching theme of fighting.  Most of the items created by crafting are only useable in combat, and many of the holidays and events have special quests in which players must fight unique bosses or monsters to get rare, event-specific items.  Professional skills are dependant on character level, a value that can only be significantly raised by fighting.  Why the number of monstrous spiders a player has stomped has any bearing on how complex a suit of armor they can forge I cannot fathom.

Differences between avatar genders are, for the most part aesthetic, but when player interaction is factored in, an entirely different layer of gender difference emerges.  Players using female avatars often receive in-game flirtation emotes and messages, private and public, regarding their avatar’s appearance.  Solicitations of cybersex, harassment, and even questions as to the player’s real-life sexual and gender identities are a frequent hazard.  Male characters rarely receive such messages, with the exception of male blood elves.  Despite being top-heavy with muscles, their models are slender and graceful – they are represented in a way that closely mirrors WoW’s female avatars.  Some players using male blood elf avatars are subject to similar taunts and offers as those who play with female avatars.

Like so many subjects, I feel I could write a thesis about this subject, but I’ll have to contain myself for now.  Still, the issues I’ve highlighted are just the tip of the iceberg.  WoW contains many issues of gender and representation – some positive, some negative.  I do not criticize Blizzard for the choices they have made – in the competitive world of video games, MMOs especially, they must cater to a broad demographic that is notoriously mercurial.  Titillation and misogyny is not the primary attractive force in WoW, but the subtle elements of both do not hurt when it comes to retaining players.

Gender Representation in World of Warcraft

In examining gender representation in video games, we can look at a game with a huge user base: World of Warcraft.  To begin, let’s examine the character models available to the player.  Players are allowed to customize their characters by choosing from several pre-made components, such as facial structures, hair color, and hair type…but they cannot alter their character’s body.  For each of the ten races, there is one body type for males and one body type for females.

In all honesty, the representations of the different sexes could be worse, especially concerning the representation of the less human races such as Taurens and Orcs.  However, it could be much better, for both males and females.  Examine the human male template, perhaps the easiest template for male players to identify with.  If you want to play a human male, you will be playing a very muscular human male.  This body type is obviously not very common among the population, yet is the only choice players have.  As the Hegemony of Play states, “These games…send very particular messages about what it means to be a man.”

Also, consider armor.  A piece of armor that entirely covers a male avatar may become a bikini top on a female avatar.  Why the need to have such differing armor models for the different genders?  There seems to be a literal dual standard in terms of clothing for the different genders of avatars.

However, if different body models were provided, how popular would they be?  WoW is a kind of escape, and would different body models be all that popular?  Would players choose a less flattering representation if given a choice?  After all, there is surely a reason for why the character models are in place.  Perhaps the real study is how players are affected seeing their world populated by the exact same body types for all the avatars.  Not only are the avatars unrealistic, they’re all alike, perhaps driving home that unrealistic expectation supported by many games. 

Yet at the same time, having uniform physical models for characters removes the focus on this part of the avatar.  Because they are all the same, the player is less likely to pay attention to them, and focus more on the actual game play.  Although the models themselves may misrepresent the player, at least there is little focus on that part of the game.  By giving the player more choice in their avatar, would this be lost?  Would there be an inordinate amount of more distorted female Night Elves in the game? 

Essentially, the question becomes: how do players want to see themselves represented in a game?  Do they want to have a fantasy representation of themselves?  Do they want to be represented by what has become the stereotypical “action hero” of video games?  Has the “Hegemony of Play” ingrained itself so thoroughly in so many gamers that they seek out this stereotype?

-Anna Coley (acoley3)