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Games and Identity

Before the groaning commences, I’m not really shooting for a detailed statistical analysis of identity in online games — I’m not equipped for that, I don’t have the research, and that’s a level above what I’m shooting for. I’m going to talk about what I’ve observed, having been an avid gamer for roughly 86% of my life.

Identity is important. I find myself struggling to think of a game within which you don’t have a persona, with the exception of some puzzle games (clearly, there can be a Puzzle Pirates for every Tetris). In even the earliest Sim City, you’re the “mayor.” In RPGs, you’re a PC (or maybe you’re the whole party). In Starcraft, you “are” Jim Raynor in those moments where you’re making him move around. In Qix, you’re that dot/spark thing that makes lines. There’s always something for you to hang your ego on.

The first game I can remember completely consuming me was Scott Adams’s Adventureland for the Vic-20. There were no graphics (in fact, there were only 22 columns of 8×8-font text, displayed via RF adaptor on a tiny TV, channel 3 or 4). There was no way to “see” yourself. Technically “you” had an inventory, a location in the world, and presumably some sort of indication of the overall game state. Still, it was relatively easy to get absorbed — “I” had to find all of the treasures, and smear myself with stinky mud to avoid death by bee sting. Clearly, I was projecting myself into that world.

Going ahead a bit, now. The game Labyrinth (back when it was Lucasfilm Games!) started off with a little bit of text adventure retro-gaming. Wait, Jareth is addressing me by name! And my shirt is my favorite color! Wow, neato! *snip* (That’s the sound of several months being poured into finishing that particular adventure game. Alas, there was no gamefaqs.com yet to rescue me from the crazier bits…) Again, though, I felt personally drawn into the game.

Flash forward a couple of decades. I’m immersed in a 3D world in Star Wars Galaxies. My Zabrak toon (we’ll call him “Kid-Tested, Mother-Approved” or “KTMA” because I’m a lazy typist) grew his own rich character. KTMA had friends, acquaintances, business relationships, and probably even a few enemies. KTMA tended to dress in green, when possible. KTMA drove a hideous green bubble of a vehicle. KTMA had a green starfighter. KTMA hated Dralls, Jawas, and Ewoks. KTMA was a drunkard and a spice addict. KTMA would gun down anyone if they might have loot he wanted. KTMA was a fair-weather member of the Rebellion. In short, KTMA was a rich and detailed character, with a history, a personality, and goals. Eventually, as a result of real-life changes, a new job, shifting priorities, game changes, and everything else, I decided to leave the game; unexpectedly (and certainly unlike any single-player game I can remember), this was a hard decision. SWG was my far-and-away primary game for over 2 years, which is almost certainly a record. (I can think of franchises I’ve tracked faithfully over long periods of time, but certainly no single games.) Honestly, there was nothing within the game that wasn’t available in some other game — it was mostly a sense of attachment or even loyalty to this persona that kept me playing.

Even stranger, as I move from game-to-game, I find myself recreating the same identities in one fashion or another. Sometimes, there is very little similarity. For instance, I have a City of Heroes version of KTMA, and this one’s a true hero. The only thing he has in common with the original is name and obsession with green. He’s huge, brave, and upstanding. Then there’s KTMA in Dungeons and Dragons Online — a halfling ranger, coward. All he does is hide in the back and plink arrows at folks. And for a ranger, he’s pretty graceless. Now, DDO hasn’t really grabbed me (for a variety of reasons I’m sure I’ll discuss in later entries). Still, having a character/identity in the game is a stumbling point on abandoning it. Strange!

So, I know the plural of anecdote is not “data,” but I have to imagine this isn’t an isolated phenomenon. So, this brings me to as much of a series of points as I’ll probably produce with this post..

  1. It’s fairly easy to start a player projecting their ego into an identity — this is an activity that occurs naturally in nearly any sort of gameplay.
  2. The stronger the identity, the stronger the player’s real attachment to the identity.
  3. Customization and social networks help strengthen the projected identity.

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