AI, The Point Of Art, And Going Extinct Before Dragon Age 4 Comes Out | Winter Spectacular 2022
This is the first article I’ve written in a while. Since September I’ve been a lecturer in games development - it's a good job, a great job even. Education is not something I originally aspired to do. I was geared up to be a producer in the games industry and was getting pretty frequent interviews for it too. In fact, when I took this job, I was through to the second round of interviews for a pretty big company - the company had spaceships in its games and everything. But I went with education when the opportunity popped up. I don’t regret that choice at all - teaching is a wonderful thing, especially teaching game design. Here's why;
Games are joy. They are a culmination of artistic prowess, technical know-how and their own brand of entertainment psychology. I would argue that games are a unique art form - an art form that anyone can contribute to, be that with code, narrative or imagination. This collaboration is key, but the real majesty of games comes from their purpose; to create fun. To create experiences. It's a pure and brilliant purpose, one that anyone can contribute to if they take the time to learn how, as with any art form. And, with any art form, games have produced amazing people too.
Editor’s note: You know, I think this is the third year I have used this image in a Winter Spectacular piece and then made a joke about Dragon Age 4 never coming out.
Don’t make me do it in 2023 Bioware.
David Gaider, my personal hero in games, and writer on the Dragon Age series, inspired me to be a games designer. He helped develop and evolve a narrative format unique to games, filled with choice and romance. He worked on games that had some of the first predominant queer characters ever. His work drives me, because his approach to his work has a very human element to it. His thought process comes from his personal history, blended into the world of games and games design. This approach to game design is unique because it stems from his own story - the power these games’ characters have come from the people who make them. The worlds, these characters, and the player are brought to life by the people who create them - every inch of a game is born out of someone's story.
Get back to me when a computer can generate a cast of characters this fabulous!
Sarah Northway was inspired by her travels in South America, and that's how we got the unique and brilliant world of I Was A Teenage Exocolonist. Matthew Mercer and the cast of Critical Role have built, over hundreds of hours, an entire world and history using their memories and characteristics. How often do we say that the unique worlds that Hideo Kojima creates wouldn't be possible without the unique character that Kojima is, directing and enabling those around him?
Hang this in the Louvre, you cowards.
There are hundreds of designers and players who have told unique stories through games, and as an educator I get to see people who I know could one day do the same, taking their first steps. Being a game developer is being an artist - I think that in a few hundred years the very people and projects I’ve mentioned could be discussed similarly to how we see the renaissance period. In a very short period of time, we’ve created this artform, and begun to master it, and one of the things I worry about is how much time we’ve had to reflect on its importance. We don’t yet grant these artists the reverence that they could be seen with one day. It might sound hyperbolic, but there are games out there that will be cemented as staples of our time period, and designers out there who will be our Leonardo da Vincis and our Ada Lovelaces.
This brings me to my main concern - the dilution of the human experience in games. With the current push around AI-generated art and code, I worry we’re forgetting why we make these things. Games are born of passion, personal history and imagination, things that can easily get lost if we continue to see games as a cut-and-paste consumer product. The value I draw from education is watching people explore their calling. You want to see real, human happiness? Find someone so dedicated to games, so blindingly passionate about it to the point you can barely drag them away from their computer, and watch them make something. That's the human experience - the effort, the passion and the drive to make a game with their own two hands. That's why I teach. That's why there’s value in games, because they are an experience born from the sum total of the experiences of those who made it. A piece of computer software can’t replace that.
2nd Editor’s note: this is actually just footage of me every time we get an PR email for an NFT game.
I’m sure it can do something. I love a good Integrated Development Environment - they save me from those cursed semicolons that all the programming memes are about. I'm sure an AI would be very helpful as an assistant in coding, and I'm not against it. I'm sure there are other applications for these types of programs as well in other disciplines, but at some point, as creatives, we need to stop and ask ourselves if we’re so preoccupied with whether or not we could and think about if we should (preferably while doing a funny Ian Malcolm impression). If you think it's dramatic to compare AI creation to a T-Rex, ask a creative how they feel about an AI doing their job - you’ll find the levels of dread equitable.
I don’t want innovation to take away from the brilliance that is games design and games designers. I would like to think we live in a world where we respect the callings of these people and these projects. I would also like to think there is a world where we can embrace innovation without crushing someones calling (or their job). As one of the people who found their calling in games, I’d hope there would be respect for that too. We make these things. We do. People. We make the medium and the miracle.
