The game industry is one of, if not, the oldest experience of computers for the general public. Pong and Pac-man blazed the way. While gaming remains a major component of the modern personal computer world, another development in that world has raised skepticism about the ability to marry the two. This second dimension of the computer world is the touch screen, characteristic of smart phones and tablets such as iPad. How much of a conflict is there really here?
Certainly, the immediate evidence would suggest such a concern is much ado about nothing. Games have been developed for touch screens: I've compiled my list of the best games for iPad elsewhere. The fact of such games though has not been without its detractors and critics.
At the risk of caricaturing the complaint, it does often come down to a fairly crude objection. The gist of the complaint is that the player's fingers get in the way of seeing the screen.
Well, maybe, but perhaps a more central insight is being missed here. The very idea that a tactile interface with the screen is an obstacle may in fact be an increasingly outdated abstraction. Those who play the touch screen are quite possibly the cutting edge not only of a new world of gaming, but in fact of an entirely new human-computer interface.
Before completely unpacking this claim, some context will be helpful. Consider the visceral pleasures of finger painting. I know many will object that serious painters use paint brushes. Fine.
Such a truism though blinds one to the valuable insight available. Who reading these lines has never experienced the joys of poking their fingers into the paint? Can you remember the sensual pleasure of smearing, spreading and indeed even shaping the paint with your finger tips? Really, if you examine it closely, finger painting is less like brush painting than it is akin to sculpture. Children famously revel in it. It provides great satisfaction for adults too though if they can overcome inhibitions against the indulging of child-like pleasures.
On the other hand, there's the Etch-n-Sketch. Now, don't get me wrong. It can be fun, too. In a sort of detail oriented and slightly fixated way. But have you ever seen anyone, of any age, using an Etch-n-Sketch beam out the sheer joy that is ubiquitous and contagious in finger painting? I want to put it to you that the joy of the latter has to do with the immersion in, not only the experience, but also into the product of the experience.
For, if you think about it, the finger painter is not merely painting the picture, but doing so from within the picture. The painter is literally, physically in the picture he is producing. The painting is an extension of the painter. And no less is the painter an extension of the painting. The kind of sublime joy generated by this profoundly immersive experience goes a long way in helping us understand why touch screen gaming is the future of gaming. And not only that, but is a harbinger of the future of human-computer interfacing. With the touch screen game we discover a simulation of the immersive, joyous experience of finger painting.
Complaints over the touch screen's lack of buttons and joysticks, mice and keyboards, express nothing more than the entirely predictable resistance to change always experienced by people left behind by technological change. Such people are understandably resentful. They have invested great amounts of time, energy and sometimes their personal wealth, into learning skills that are rendered obsolete.
History's full of these kinds of self-serving skill-protecting complaints masquerading as principled aesthetic objections. From photographers complaining about digital cameras, old ink-stained newspaper men complaining about the internet, motion picture moguls complaining about television, big band musicians complaining about the phonograph, and horse-and-carriage jockeys complaining about the automobile, this is an old story. And the outcome is usually the same, despite the best efforts of those with heavy investments in the past technologies. Though painful for the individuals involved, unless we are content to live in the past, this is ultimately for the good.
It's not just though about improved functionality, but also about a more immediate experience and a more accessible one. The first person who had the idea to hook up speakers to their TV to create a surround sound effect were leading the way along the path to the day when we all will experience our favorite shows as virtual reality experiences. And that day isn't as far off as you might think.
It verges on being hackneyed to observe how much we like to "lose ourselves" in our entertainment. We seem to enjoy such recreational diversions most when we feel "wrapped up in it." A major part of the experience is our desire for however briefly to leave behind the concerns of the mundane world. Anthropology knows of no humans who haven't used some kind of intoxicants to alter consciousness. The desire for however brief a refuge in fantasy or wonder appears to be essentially human. It probably explains why we endlessly push our entertainment technology toward the experience of immersion.
The recent explosion in popularity of Wii is a case in point. It illustrates the desire to bathe ourselves in a tactically immersive gaming experience. The immersive experience of the touch screen approaches such immersion in a manner no control console or keyboard ever will. It links the child-like joy of finger painting and the intense pleasures promised by full virtual reality engagement. It links our personal past with our social future
But don't expect the appetite for technological immersion to stop there. You've no doubt seen Sci-Fi TV shows where lights are activated by voice command. Pioneering research in strong AI suggests that may be hardly scraping the surface. We may see light control systems that come on when we think about needing them. Or lights that automatically adjust to the growing fatigue of our eyes when preoccupied in a task. Immersion is the natural inclination of human-computer interface.
Touch screen gaming is a stepping stone into that future. Game designers who try to build button or stick driven games for the iPad are like the early film makers and record producers who could only conceive film or tape recording as instruments for recording live performances. Until the benefits of splicing were discovered the potential of such media went unexplored.
So with game designers responding to the growing demand for games on touch screens, if they can find the organic fit with the uniquely immersive qualities of the iPad, they too can be harbingers of the future. Otherwise, they're just lingering stragglers of the past.
Certainly, the immediate evidence would suggest such a concern is much ado about nothing. Games have been developed for touch screens: I've compiled my list of the best games for iPad elsewhere. The fact of such games though has not been without its detractors and critics.
At the risk of caricaturing the complaint, it does often come down to a fairly crude objection. The gist of the complaint is that the player's fingers get in the way of seeing the screen.
Well, maybe, but perhaps a more central insight is being missed here. The very idea that a tactile interface with the screen is an obstacle may in fact be an increasingly outdated abstraction. Those who play the touch screen are quite possibly the cutting edge not only of a new world of gaming, but in fact of an entirely new human-computer interface.
Before completely unpacking this claim, some context will be helpful. Consider the visceral pleasures of finger painting. I know many will object that serious painters use paint brushes. Fine.
Such a truism though blinds one to the valuable insight available. Who reading these lines has never experienced the joys of poking their fingers into the paint? Can you remember the sensual pleasure of smearing, spreading and indeed even shaping the paint with your finger tips? Really, if you examine it closely, finger painting is less like brush painting than it is akin to sculpture. Children famously revel in it. It provides great satisfaction for adults too though if they can overcome inhibitions against the indulging of child-like pleasures.
On the other hand, there's the Etch-n-Sketch. Now, don't get me wrong. It can be fun, too. In a sort of detail oriented and slightly fixated way. But have you ever seen anyone, of any age, using an Etch-n-Sketch beam out the sheer joy that is ubiquitous and contagious in finger painting? I want to put it to you that the joy of the latter has to do with the immersion in, not only the experience, but also into the product of the experience.
For, if you think about it, the finger painter is not merely painting the picture, but doing so from within the picture. The painter is literally, physically in the picture he is producing. The painting is an extension of the painter. And no less is the painter an extension of the painting. The kind of sublime joy generated by this profoundly immersive experience goes a long way in helping us understand why touch screen gaming is the future of gaming. And not only that, but is a harbinger of the future of human-computer interfacing. With the touch screen game we discover a simulation of the immersive, joyous experience of finger painting.
Complaints over the touch screen's lack of buttons and joysticks, mice and keyboards, express nothing more than the entirely predictable resistance to change always experienced by people left behind by technological change. Such people are understandably resentful. They have invested great amounts of time, energy and sometimes their personal wealth, into learning skills that are rendered obsolete.
History's full of these kinds of self-serving skill-protecting complaints masquerading as principled aesthetic objections. From photographers complaining about digital cameras, old ink-stained newspaper men complaining about the internet, motion picture moguls complaining about television, big band musicians complaining about the phonograph, and horse-and-carriage jockeys complaining about the automobile, this is an old story. And the outcome is usually the same, despite the best efforts of those with heavy investments in the past technologies. Though painful for the individuals involved, unless we are content to live in the past, this is ultimately for the good.
It's not just though about improved functionality, but also about a more immediate experience and a more accessible one. The first person who had the idea to hook up speakers to their TV to create a surround sound effect were leading the way along the path to the day when we all will experience our favorite shows as virtual reality experiences. And that day isn't as far off as you might think.
It verges on being hackneyed to observe how much we like to "lose ourselves" in our entertainment. We seem to enjoy such recreational diversions most when we feel "wrapped up in it." A major part of the experience is our desire for however briefly to leave behind the concerns of the mundane world. Anthropology knows of no humans who haven't used some kind of intoxicants to alter consciousness. The desire for however brief a refuge in fantasy or wonder appears to be essentially human. It probably explains why we endlessly push our entertainment technology toward the experience of immersion.
The recent explosion in popularity of Wii is a case in point. It illustrates the desire to bathe ourselves in a tactically immersive gaming experience. The immersive experience of the touch screen approaches such immersion in a manner no control console or keyboard ever will. It links the child-like joy of finger painting and the intense pleasures promised by full virtual reality engagement. It links our personal past with our social future
But don't expect the appetite for technological immersion to stop there. You've no doubt seen Sci-Fi TV shows where lights are activated by voice command. Pioneering research in strong AI suggests that may be hardly scraping the surface. We may see light control systems that come on when we think about needing them. Or lights that automatically adjust to the growing fatigue of our eyes when preoccupied in a task. Immersion is the natural inclination of human-computer interface.
Touch screen gaming is a stepping stone into that future. Game designers who try to build button or stick driven games for the iPad are like the early film makers and record producers who could only conceive film or tape recording as instruments for recording live performances. Until the benefits of splicing were discovered the potential of such media went unexplored.
So with game designers responding to the growing demand for games on touch screens, if they can find the organic fit with the uniquely immersive qualities of the iPad, they too can be harbingers of the future. Otherwise, they're just lingering stragglers of the past.
About the Author:
To follow the hottest goings-on in the universe of touch screen games, follow Mishu Hull's regular articles at the Best Games for iPad blog. He writes on a variety of technology issues. His critical review of the newest version of Kindle Fire, " Kindle Fire Tries it Again, But... ," is a must read.
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