An old standby of the computer world is the gaming industry, going all the way back to Pong and Pac-man. One of the hottest, relatively recent, developments has been the touch screen, on smart phones and tablets such as iPad. There is a legitimate question as to how this pair of computer tendencies might co-exist.
If the proof is in the pudding, there may be some justification in dismissing these concerns. No such incompatibility has prevented the development of games specifically for touch screens: see my list of the best games for iPad posted elsewhere. This practical evidence, though, has not convinced the nay-sayers.
Most commonly, there are those who complain about the practicality of touch screen game playing. The usual (perhaps obvious) complaint is something along the lines: my fingers get in the way of seeing the screen.
That I suspect has more to do with bad design than touch screen gaming per se. And it seems that such a protest misses a more central insight in all of this. Complaining that a tactile interaction with the screen is problematic is really not seeing the forest for the trees. What is going on here is, I suspect, the revolutionizing of gaming. In fact, it may be a portent of the future of human-computer interfacing.
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.
Yet, we all know the joys of sticking our fingers into the paint; of using the tips of our fingers to smear, spread and shape the paint. Finger painting in a sense is almost a kind of sculpture. Kids of course notoriously love it, but even adults, given the rare occasion, if not worried about getting paint on their new dress or suit, will often be compelled to spontaneously stick in their fingers.
Compare that other childhood picture producing technology, the Etch-n-Sketch. I'm not claiming there's not fun in it. It is though a very particular kind of fun: detail-driven and fixated in a vaguely obsessive compulsive way. It's a world away from the uninhibited joy of finger painting. I propose that this sheer joyousness is directly related to the immersion in, not only the finger painting experience, but also into the product of the experience; the very tactile immersion into the medium.
The finger painter is literally "in" the picture that he is painting. This is not a metaphor, but a precise description: the painting is an extension of the painter and vice versa. It is necessary to fully grasp this distinguishing quality to appreciate why touch screen gaming is not only the future of gaming, but of human-computer interface. Like the finger painting, touch screen gaming immerses players right into the game.
The sad truth is that those who complain about the absence of buttons and joysticks, mice and keyboards, in such games make themselves just another example in a long story of those that history has left behind. They merely reveal their resentment at the sudden devaluation of the refined skills, into which they have invested so much time, energy and money, only to find their once treasured skills antiquated and 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.
The claim of course is not merely about superior technological function, though that shouldn't be underestimated. It though is really about immediacy and accessibility of experience. Try to imagine that first person, whoever or wherever he was, that had the idea (there had to be a first, somewhere, no?) to hook up speakers to his TV set so as to experience what we'd today call surround sound. Without ever being aware of it, he was taking an essential step down that path which will result in the day when we all experience our favorite television programs as immersive virtual reality experiences. Imagine being able to wander around Jerry's apartment, while he and Elaine are discussing which percentage of the population is dateable. Or imagine being Jerry or Elaine having that conversation. All this is not as far away as you might think.
It verges on cliche to observe how we humans so enjoy "losing ourselves" in our entertainment. When we're enjoying it the most we're "wrapped up in it." These turns of phrase capture a deep seated desire for momentary transcendence. For a little while we seek to escape our worries and even our very bodily presence in the mundane world. This urge for brief refuge in fantasy explains much about our continuous urge for deeper and deeper immersion in our entertainment media.
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.
Seen in this context, touch screen gaming may be regarded as a transitional step into that future. Game designers who insist upon putting "consoles" on to touch screen games are being left behind by history. They are like those early film makers and recording engineers who could not see their new technologies as anything more than the means to record live performances. And being able to do that was a great accomplishment. It was of course only when the visionaries came along who could imagine cinematography and splice-editing, though, that these new technologies realized their creative and aesthetic potential.
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.
If the proof is in the pudding, there may be some justification in dismissing these concerns. No such incompatibility has prevented the development of games specifically for touch screens: see my list of the best games for iPad posted elsewhere. This practical evidence, though, has not convinced the nay-sayers.
Most commonly, there are those who complain about the practicality of touch screen game playing. The usual (perhaps obvious) complaint is something along the lines: my fingers get in the way of seeing the screen.
That I suspect has more to do with bad design than touch screen gaming per se. And it seems that such a protest misses a more central insight in all of this. Complaining that a tactile interaction with the screen is problematic is really not seeing the forest for the trees. What is going on here is, I suspect, the revolutionizing of gaming. In fact, it may be a portent of the future of human-computer interfacing.
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.
Yet, we all know the joys of sticking our fingers into the paint; of using the tips of our fingers to smear, spread and shape the paint. Finger painting in a sense is almost a kind of sculpture. Kids of course notoriously love it, but even adults, given the rare occasion, if not worried about getting paint on their new dress or suit, will often be compelled to spontaneously stick in their fingers.
Compare that other childhood picture producing technology, the Etch-n-Sketch. I'm not claiming there's not fun in it. It is though a very particular kind of fun: detail-driven and fixated in a vaguely obsessive compulsive way. It's a world away from the uninhibited joy of finger painting. I propose that this sheer joyousness is directly related to the immersion in, not only the finger painting experience, but also into the product of the experience; the very tactile immersion into the medium.
The finger painter is literally "in" the picture that he is painting. This is not a metaphor, but a precise description: the painting is an extension of the painter and vice versa. It is necessary to fully grasp this distinguishing quality to appreciate why touch screen gaming is not only the future of gaming, but of human-computer interface. Like the finger painting, touch screen gaming immerses players right into the game.
The sad truth is that those who complain about the absence of buttons and joysticks, mice and keyboards, in such games make themselves just another example in a long story of those that history has left behind. They merely reveal their resentment at the sudden devaluation of the refined skills, into which they have invested so much time, energy and money, only to find their once treasured skills antiquated and 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.
The claim of course is not merely about superior technological function, though that shouldn't be underestimated. It though is really about immediacy and accessibility of experience. Try to imagine that first person, whoever or wherever he was, that had the idea (there had to be a first, somewhere, no?) to hook up speakers to his TV set so as to experience what we'd today call surround sound. Without ever being aware of it, he was taking an essential step down that path which will result in the day when we all experience our favorite television programs as immersive virtual reality experiences. Imagine being able to wander around Jerry's apartment, while he and Elaine are discussing which percentage of the population is dateable. Or imagine being Jerry or Elaine having that conversation. All this is not as far away as you might think.
It verges on cliche to observe how we humans so enjoy "losing ourselves" in our entertainment. When we're enjoying it the most we're "wrapped up in it." These turns of phrase capture a deep seated desire for momentary transcendence. For a little while we seek to escape our worries and even our very bodily presence in the mundane world. This urge for brief refuge in fantasy explains much about our continuous urge for deeper and deeper immersion in our entertainment media.
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.
Seen in this context, touch screen gaming may be regarded as a transitional step into that future. Game designers who insist upon putting "consoles" on to touch screen games are being left behind by history. They are like those early film makers and recording engineers who could not see their new technologies as anything more than the means to record live performances. And being able to do that was a great accomplishment. It was of course only when the visionaries came along who could imagine cinematography and splice-editing, though, that these new technologies realized their creative and aesthetic potential.
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 keep up on the hottest goings-on in the universe of touch screen games, check out Mishu Hull's regular posts at the Best Games for iPad blog. He writes on a variety of technology topics. His recent slam of the newest version of Kindle Fire, " Kindle Fire Tries it Again, But... ," is a must read.
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