Candy Land

Tabletop Tuesdays: Perhaps Not as Stupid As You Might Think

Type:
Tabletop
Developer:
Eleanor Abbot

Eleanor Abbot's Candy Land is in most cases the first boardgame to which children in the United States are exposed. As a result, it constitutes a touchstone, a referent which we almost all consider when contemplating the nature of the ars ludorum, and its evolution and recomplication in our own interactive, nay hyperactive, era.

There are those who criticize Candy Land as being jejune and ultimately futile, since the nature of its rules construct and the (non-existent) emergent complexity it supports is utterly unsusceptible to any sort of rational analysis, or indeed, choice of player strategy.

Each turn, a player draws a card, upon which is printed a color. He, or as it may be, she, thereupon advances his or her token to the next square along the track printed with the same color. The first player to reach the final goal -- the mighty castle of King Kandy -- is the sole victor of the game. While there are a few "short-cuts" across the track, accessible only by landing on the starting square of each, and thus a mild Snakes and Ladders (well, Ladders, anyway) element, this avails strategy nought, since you have no capacity to plan for the use of such short-cuts, no ability to reduce or advance your movement. Consequently, Candy Land is, to the adult player, purely a game of luck, with first-movers having a mild competitive advantage; victory is a consequence of the luck of the draw.

Yet to view the game purely in this light is to utterly ignore the characteristics that make it fascinating, both as a game, and as a cultural artifact -- and that make it appealing to children, its intended audience.

To begin with, let us view Candy Land as a mathematical entity. It is very nearly a Markov chain, a stochastic process in which, given the current state, future states are independent of past states. (It would be a pure Markov chain if the deck were shuffled after each play; instead, it is a crippled Markov chain coupled to a push-pop stack.) As such, it is a metaphorical representation of the fundamental ideology of the United States; the past is no constraint on the future, and each individual should strive resolutely for personal advance despite whatever the past may hold. The child born in a log cabin may achieve the presidency, an immigrant boy who grows up in the slums of Brooklyn may become a real-estate magnate, an Ivy-educated scion of wealth may wind up on a bread line, and a double green will speed you to the fore. Though there are winners and losers, initial conditions are no determinant of outcome in the freedom of America. The subtext, of course, may be that success and failure is entirely random and has nothing to do with individual initiative and hard work, a concept alien to the Platonic ideal of the American dream, but perhaps a more accurate representation of reality than the Horatio Alger myth.

Next, let us consider the role of Candy Land in the acculturation of the American child. The characters represented in the game, through whose desmenses the players pass, are all representations of sickly, in many cases objectively repulsive, sweets: Princess Frostine, the Gingerbread People, Mr. Mint, Gloppy the Chocolate (formerly Molasses) Monster. There's a clear message to the American child here, one our business establishment is at pains to transmit through all forms of media -- most importantly, of course, through the thundering waterfall of commercial blandishment none of us is permitted to escape, whatever media we peruse. That message is, of course: CONSUME. Consume candy. Consume everything. But for children, candy above all; the natural childish instinct to like what in more mature mouths is repulsively saccharine is the key, the first way in for inculcation of the consumer instinct. Candy good. Consume candy. Whine at your parent until she, or as it may be, he, buys you the packet of Lifesavers. St. Francis Xavier, founder of the Jesuits, said "Give me the child until he is seven, and I will give you the man," meaning, of course, that if you brainwash small children with any idiot set of beliefs (like, say, the virgin birth, divinity of Christ, necessity for ritual cannibalism, and triune nature of the Godhead), you'll have them by the frontal lobes of the brain for the rest of their lives. They will never escape it. Thus, while Abbot no doubt had no such intention for her game, Candy Land also serves as an important element in the indoctrination of American youth in the cult of excessive consumption and extravagant and unnecessary use of resources, the fundament of our society and economic growth since the end of the Second World War.

The replacement of "Gloppy the Molasses Monster" with "Gloppy the Chocolate Monster" in the 2002 edition is instructive in this regard; molasses, once used by every home cook in a variety of tasty treats, has been entirely replaced by high-fructose corn syrup, baked into commercial products by large conglomerates, as our government has sought to bar or reduce the importation of cane sugar and molasses, its industrial precursor, in favor of less efficiently produced forms of sugar provided at higher cost by American farmers who vote for congressmen. Unfortunately, Brazil has no votes in the American legislature, so molasses has no constituency.

But to think of Candy Land in terms of its dialectical role in acculturating American children to consumerism, or indeed to think of it in mathematical terms, is to consider its external indicia, rather that its pure characteristics as a game qua game. Let us return, therefore, to its formal game nature.

I have argued that as a game, it is in effect, nugatory, since its outcome is wholly dependent on chance. Yet its audience is not game sophisticates, who will divine its nugatory nature; its audience is small children. They have neither the experience nor sophistication to delve beneath the surface sufficiently to understand that it is wholly chance based. Instead, they experience the game much as we, supposedly more sophisticated adults, experience other games, like, say, World of Warcraft or slot machines. One token advances, then another; there is a contest for the ultimate victory. Each new turn of a card has an effect on the gamestate, and just as we sit on the edge of our seats as we strive to use our mastery of the interface and our perception of what trick is required to kill this boss in a Zelda game, or hang as the slot machine wheel trembles between an orange that produces a payoff and an image that does not, so they may feel the same sense of urgency and hope as they near the finish line. Similarly, the child may feel a sense of fiero, of triumph over adversity, if they are the first to enter King Kandy's castle, and thereby win, particularly if they do so in victory over their otherwise evidently more sophisticated, knowledgeable, and dominant parent. The sophisticate sees in this chance; the naive player, to whom the game caters, sees merely the triumph.

In short, the wholly chance-based nature of the game's narrative is eminently suited to its target audience; the five year-old player has just as much chance of winning as the forty-something one. Why would a player so young play Chess against his parent? Surely, he would soon perceive that however he strives to master the knight's move, he has no chance of winning, not until he is much older. Yet with Candy Land he is on an equal footing.

Thus, a pure ludological analysis of Candy Land might conclude that "this is a brain-dead game that only an idiot would play;" but a more encompassing analysis, considering the nature of its audience and the environment in which it is most commonly played, might conclude instead that it is ideally suited to its audience, and a laudatory example of a game design that places players of vastly different ages and analytical capabilities on an equal footing. Indeed, we might draw from it a potentially important conclusion: Outcomes strongly influenced by chance are not, as some would have it, poor game design, but instead appropriate for games that mix players at divergent levels of skill.


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Interesting!

Hmmm, I never played Candy Land as a kid, though I did play Chutes & Ladders. I wonder if that influenced me in some fashion. Well, I think it might reflect my parents' perhaps-not-entirely-conscious de-emphasis on consumerism in our household.

But hell, I could read critiques of classic board games as Markov chains all night!


Excellent analysis!

Two thoughts:

1) The most fundamental game-playing skill is, in a sense, the skill of being able to play a game—following the rules, observing turn order, knowing when you've won or lost. Candyland proves that it's impossible to design a contentless game; the very existence of a game is itself a form of content, and win or lose, the very ability to play a game from beginning to end is a form of victory.

2) I still remember—to some murky, distorted extent—the moment that I realized that Chutes and Ladders was entirely luck. It was a big moment. I'm sure the Germans have a word for this sort of epiphanic disillusionment, but it's a feeling I've retraced the neural pathways of every time I've gotten good enough at a game (SimCity, Monopoly, Diplomacy, Wii Tennis, whatever) to be suddenly and viscerally struck by the dubious assumptions of its heretofore blithely accepted model.


My burgeoning taxonomy of games

I've been percolating over a taxonomy of games (the Ludovinom Linnaeum?) in my head for a while now, and I used to have just two top level domains, games and toys.

In pondering video slot machines, I realized that I needed a third, lots. So now there are Games, Toys, and Lots.

Games have a definite start state, a definite stop state in the vast majority of cases, and a system of rules by which players transition from the start state to the end state, and influence the exact nature of the end state.

Toys don't necessarily have defined start states or end states, but they serve as props with which players can exercise rules.

Lots have a defined start state, a defined stop state, but do not actually allow for any player to influence the nature of the end state.

Candyland would definitely fall into the domain of Lots, but as noted, that's not necessarily a bad thing in and of itself. There are ecrtain design goals that need to be met, and if the near pure randomness of the Lot is the best way to meet those goals, then so be it.


Great review. If you object

Great review. If you object to the sugar laden message of the Original CANDY LAND game, you can support a good cause with the Give Kids The World version. It's the first board game themed to a nonprofit and the first to feature children in wheelchairs as part of the game design. All proceeds benefit Give Kids The World, a nonprofit village dedicated to making dreams come true for children with life-threatening illnesses.


Reshuffle?

Isn't it true that the rules don't tell you what to do when the deck runs out? Or am I crazy and that doesn't happen during a game of Candy Land?

Agreed that it's a wonderful game for young children, and fills a very important niche in a child's development.

I was, however, dismayed when our Lord of the Rings TCG was referred to as "Candy Land" due to the path of sites players traveled over. Reading your article, I think I should have taken that as a compliment!


It ain't about the candy....

I'm an elementary school teacher in a class for (mildly) learning disabled students. I've seen Candyland chosen and played many times by kids of different ages. Elucidation hits it on the head - there is a satisfaction and pleasure in being able to do all the things that constitute "playing the game". Kids of different ages (and I) can play together without advantage. They love it when the teacher hits a chute! Another plus - no reading! One quibble with this insightful review - you don't need a board game to tell a kid anything about consuming candy!! I never hear a kid mention anything about candy while playing, by the way...


Chance and Slots

As a designer of casino games, I resemble that remark.

The difficulty of making good slot machines is in creating games with tension and excitement, even while the player knows perfectly well that it is completely based on chance. The advantage is that players are using real money.

If everybody sticks a hundred bucks in a hat, Candy Land gets a lot more compelling to watch.

Similarly, the slot machine games I make are too dumb to play without money on the table... but once that money is on the table, some games are still more compelling than others. From a slot perspective, I'd rate Candy Land a bit dull... the path is too long, and the payout structure limited. But it's a great race game for a toddler. Or, it's even fun just to have the yellow guy pretend to nap, and then the red guy pours water on him to wake him up. (Our current house rules variant.)


Irony

I find it interesting that you refer to Candyland as a "game" here. There are certain definitions, including your own from back in 1994, that would classify Candyland as a non-game activity specifically because of the lack of decision-making. It may be worth asking if it even qualifies itself for ludological analysis because of this.

I do view Candyland through the lens of games-as-teaching-tools, but I see it less as indoctrination of American culture and more as an introduction to the concept of random chance. The mental shift from "this is a fun game" to "hey, I have no effect on the outcome" comes precisely when a child understands the concept of randomness; this is when they can truly say the game is based on luck and not skill. Ask a very young child if there is skill in calling a coin flip and they may well say yes: after all, they have likely seen some people who seem to call it correctly more often than not (or vice versa). They may likewise feel that flipping a card with the right colors or rolling a die or spinning a spinner involves some measure of "skill" -- because, clearly, someone wins and someone loses, so the winner must have done a better job flipping cards, no? The distinction between luck and skill is not instinctive. It must be learned, and I think this is mostly what is taught by the game (and others, like Chutes & Ladders and War). I see the main purpose of the candy theme as making this learning palatable to a young audience: forget about Markov chains, there's gumdrops and donuts!


Correction and admonishment

Technically St. Francis Xavier was a co-founder of the Society of Jesus. St. Ignatius of Loyola is generally regarded as the principal founder of the Jesuits (aka The Society of Jesus).

Not quite sure why you had to resort to religious bigotry to make your point as to SFX's quote but I guess you can, for what it is worth, take this as a protest of your unprovoked textual attack on my belief system. I'm not sure what such intolerance and prejudice has to do with Candyland in specific or games in general and what would motivate you to include such invectives in a game review.

I believe you owe your readers an apology.


Dirty Little Secret

If you want a game of Candyland to go quickly (i.e., you want to get the kids to bed...), use the Dora the Explorer version of Candyland

The "dirty little secret" is that the Dora version's card deck is composed mostly of "double color square" cards. As a result, the game goes much, much quicker ;)


I dunno, I think that was an

I dunno, I think that was an apt bit of critique. I don´t want to alienate Christians or anyone in general, I doubt Greg does either. That said, a key premise of our analysis of games is that they program human minds in procedural ways, and by regression the same is true of religions, economic systems, governmental systems and so forth (even if these things don´t quality as a "game" in one´s particular definition). That was the thrust of that. Consider this an apology in the Socratic sense.


Candy tastes good

You know, even Communist children, back when there were Communist children, loved candy. They probably would have enjoyed Candy Land too, if the commissars had let them have it. It's because candy tastes good, whatever culture you're being indoctrinated into.

Of course, Candy Land still shows telltale signs of indoctrinating children into other Western ideas, if not consumerism particularly -- at its core, it assumes that you are a "person" that "moves" from "place" to "place" and "gets" "candy," when the Buddhists teach us that none of that is true at all, and that candy's just an illusion anyway. I imagine a Buddhist version, where your life force takes a spiritual journey to reach its final destination, a state of emptiness, meeting characters like "Gloppy, the Lord of Illusions Who Illustrates that Desire is the Source of All Suffering" along the way. Fun for the whole family!


Breakthrough Moment

For me, and for role-playing games, it was reading Greg's rules for Star Wars the RPG (the old West End Games version): your character only runs out of ammo if it would be dramatic and exciting to run out of ammo. A great rule, very apt for Star Wars, and it completely blew my mind, which had been used to ticking off a box every time I used an arrow in D&D, without ever wondering why.


Posting from Desperation

Actually, I ran out of tabletop games to write about and figured I'd do some kind of over-the-top rant about Candy Land... I certainly didn't figure it would get this level of response. Go figure.

Oh, that's not religious bigotry; Protestants are just as silly. It's atheistical bigotry. If it matters.


More about the candy for me than the gameplay

When I was little, I just liked imagining going to Candy Land and eating everything.

And meeting the princess at the end. I thought she was so pretty.


My final paper in my English

My final paper in my English course is about an aspect of material culture. I originally chose Wal-Mart and it's inclusive, warehouse properties (mainly because I'm from rural Alaska and I've been in one literally four or five times, so I have an 'outsider' perspective towards it) but after reading this I am tempted to scrutinize some various boardgame. 'The Game of Life' , 'Sorry' or 'Clue' anyone?

You could write up the Wargame-lite Heroscape, Greg. The elegance of it's rule system and other design choices are pretty interesting.


Greg Costikyan wrote this?

Costik is one of the greatest game writers in the history of the universe, but I disagree with several statements in this essay. Perhaps it's meant satirically (in which case it went over my head).

First, and foremost, the actions of the United States are very much influenced by its past (and so is Candyland, to some extent; if you're on a square with two red squares between you and the goal, and player X is on a square with one red square between her and the goal, the red-square card is going to mean different things for the two of you).

Second of all, just acting out a Markov chain doesn't necessarily mean acceptable game play.

Randomness/non-randomness is a separate axis from choices/non-choices.


video slots

I find video slots fascinating for a few reasons.

The first is obviously the faux gameliness of the interactive elements. As you note, the lack of player influence on the outcome becomes a less significant factor with real money in the slot. What I can't quite figure out, is the attraction of home pc/console video slot games, though I suppose they might help as an outlet for the compulsive.

The second aspect is the management. Is it true that the state of Nevada requires a copy of all game source code? If so, it does kind of make of make all of Sequoia's, and Diebold's plaintive whinings about exposing their voting machine code (as well as the whinings of breathalyzer manufacturers, for that matter) sound rather pathetic.

The third aspect is the purity of it all. Again, as I understand, the casino's percentage is regulated by law, but with software, that's all just a configuration issue, and just one reason why I would never trust some online slots site. But the degree of fine tuning that becomes possible, especially once you network the machines, is fascinating.

And finally, the noted engagement aspect. I've often noted that if the trivia video games in bars had a cash payout, well that would just be like crack to me. And yet, some people must find that level of interactivity, no matter how minimal, to be engaging enough, because, after all, somebody's got to be buying those home slots games. I consider tetris and bejeweled just one step up from video slots, from an interactivity to end state perspective, but that doesn't mean I'm not susceptible to their siren lures, either. Which would be an awesome slots theme, I think.


Well, at least we can agree...

...that you are a bigot. I'll have to reserve my judgement as to whether you are a courageous atheistical bigot who isn't afraid to insult anyones religious beliefs or a cowardly one who only sticks to those religions that are less likely to incite their followers to summarily seperate your head from your body.

As it is I will lash out at you the only way my religion allows. So be afraid and be forewarned, I will be praying for your immortal soul.


Sorry, the internet ate my

Sorry, the internet ate my lengthy considered reply. I'll cut it to:

1: Me neither.
2: True, and agreed.
3: How do you mean 'purity?'
and 4: Stepping up interactivity reduces control of payout... e.g., the trivia with payout game... how do you keep people from looking up the answers on their iPhones? But someone will crack that nut someday.


Religon talked about on the internet? Who wudda thunk?

One could construe that somebody who hides behind 'piety' and 'righteousness' to give themselves a holier-than-thou attititude towards others is a bigot. Or I could just follow your line of logic and say that you're a bigot due to your beliefs differing from mine.

Personally, I don't care what religon someone is as long as they aren't pushy or fundamentalist. One man's virgin birth is another man's flying spaghetti monster.

Nice stereotyping of the 1.5 billion people who follow Islam, by the way. Classy.


Stayin' Classy

I couldn't agree with you more TheDustin. I don't care what religion someone is. I believe that an individual's belief system should be respected whether I believe it or not. That's what freedom of religion is all about. What makes costik a bigot is his complete disrespect of other people's beliefs as shown in the following line:

if you brainwash small children with any idiot set of beliefs (like, say, the virgin birth, divinity of Christ, necessity for ritual cannibalism, and triune nature of the Godhead)

Most specifically I'm talking about the phrase "idiot set of beliefs" and then his listing of beliefs associated with the Roman Catholic faith. In fact the only problem I have with the whole sentence is the word "idiot". Take that word out and the sentence still makes sense, still makes his point logically (since the quote is from a Roman Catholic saint), but doesn't diminish anyone's personal religious beliefs and doesn't stereotype 1 billion plus people who follow the Roman Catholic faith. I'm not trying to be pious or righteous. I'm just trying to point out prejudice and intolerance when I see it. I probably should have put a smiley at the end of the "pray for you" comment since it is pretty unlikely I'll actually be praying for costik. I'm not that good a Catholic.

And what made you think I was talking about Islam. You might want to check your own stereotypes. I never mentioned Islam and history shows many religions that were/are more than happy to perpetrate violence against unbelievers.


The Problem With Belief

Belief of any kind violates mathematical laws, following Bayes Theorem, you can´t have a 100% probability of anything. Since belief implies a mental construction of certainty, your decisions are going to be radically biased regardless of prior data or evidence.

Here´s that theorem: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bayes'_theorem

So if you put in a 1 at any point in that equation, you´re always going to get 0 or 1 as the result, it´s rather like dividing by zero in conventional arithmetic.

Of course, I retain some shred of skepticism about the truthiness of Bayes theorem.

Games are about constrained decision making, with every decision having some shadow of a doubt (in an interesting game). What´s interesting about Candyland is how it´s not interesting in that sense, you have a 100% certainty of finishing eventually, the mechanic that drives this produces the infantilizing dopamine drip effect. Same goes for WoW, where enough time eventually maxes out your character. Same goes for the myth of an ever-rising stock market that so many have been suckered into. Same goes for Christianity, if you think about it, just ask for forgiveness and no matter who you are you´ll make it to heaven. These are not the kind of games that inspire the better angels of our nature.


Epic Fail

the99th, I'm not sure whether you have an epic lack of understanding of the Christian faith(s) or are just being disingenuous. At the very least your characterization of Christianity was shallow.

And don't you have to believe in mathematical laws for this Bayes Theorem to work? So you have to believe in something to prove that belief is futile? I guess I'll go check out the Bayes Theorem Wiki page and try to figure that one out.

The other thing I want to point out is that people are being quite evangelical as they keep trying to tell me why belief in religion in general or Christianity in particular is stupid or wrong. I get it. You don't believe in God and you have simple or complex reasonings for your truth claims. Stop trying to push them onto me. The only point of my comment was that costik was injecting his own personal prejudices into his review in such a way as to insult members of a specific faith group. If it is wrong to call Athiests idiots or Muslims idiots or Wiccans idiots, why isn't it wrong to call Christians idiots? All I was doing was standing up for my right to believe what I believe without being insulted or mocked. Costik would have been just as wrong if he described Athiest, Muslim, Wiccan, or SubGenius beliefs as idiotic. I just suspect he would have gotten a lot more flak for that than he has for this.


There can be only one!

Aye, I try to focus on scientific methodology - but I realised fairly recently, how do I prove that methodology works? With scientific methodology?? That'd be the same as all the religions who's religious texts refer to themselves to prove themselves. Sadly even following scientific methodology, I'm just another believer.

Anyway, onto the actual subject...jeez, overthinking it! Can't you just enjoy winning? Enjoy the moment of destiny, when who is winner and who is loser is finally determined!? There can be only one (winner)!

God, if you have to add all sorts of little sub requirements (like making choices, etc) before you enjoy a win, then your actually more interested in those sub requirements than winning. If your really there to win, you don't get picky about all that stuff. Making me think your not really there to win at all. Which makes me question the review - how can you review a game about winning when your not into winning. It's like a wine review by someone who doesn't enjoy wine.


Orlando: my point about

Orlando: my point about faith is that it limits our options and adaptability, and therefore ultimately our resiliency. It seems likely to me that Christianity is useful a smaller % of the time than the scientific method or or Bayes Theorem, though I don´t hold a certainty that any such model is effective 100% of the time. That´s what I´m trying to get at. I call it worldview hedging, you could call it quantum psychology, or having an "open mind", but whatever you call it, I recommend it.

For example, by not being married to a particular logical structure, I can more readily find the exception in any particular model, including every model I ever use. For example: shouldn´t your claim that it´s wrong to bash other people´s beliefs extend to those who believe they have a right to bash other people´s beliefs?

Callan: I´m picking up some sarcarsm, but I take this issue pretty seriously because I see it as a way of controlling people on a mass scale with frightening efficiency. Putting people in a situation where they feel like they can just go with the flow and not think critically, and they´ll win, is the recipe for veiled slavery. But as Greg says, sometimes that´s ok, like for playing with kids; when it comes to the organization principles of an entire society of adults, it´s dystopic.


Wine

How about a wine review by someone who enjoys wine for the taste rather than because it lets him get hammered?

Tell you why, why don't you play "Heads I Win, Tails you Lose" if winning is really what you're after?

Isn't the journey more important than the destination?


Whine

I make a snarky comment about Catholicism, Orlando reasonably objected, fine so far. But can we get off the topic now? There are some excellent blogs that deal with the subject of religion, I'm sure.


Amen?

Amen?


That's probably one of the

That's probably one of the dangers of running a games website with a faux Communist theme (or semi-faux, anyway). Some people objected to that whole thing (and would still be objecting if it were still around -- there are a lot fewer people at the meetings, if you haven't noticed).


I wonder how many strip clubs have been named "Candy Land"

I always liked Snakes and Ladders better anyway. It has the same complete lack of skill with better iconography. I seem to recall a writing on your part, Costik (that surely has to be an intentional pun), pegging that one as an instructor of morality regarding Virtue and Vice. It is clearly superior entertainment for the child who shall grow up wearing earth tones and shirts done all the up to the top button every single day.

(Personally, I might briefly be interested in a review of alcohol by a lush. "Paint thinner I found in the basement" takes home top honours three years in a row?)


Hey! You can't agree with me! This is the Internet!

As for your replies to 1 and 2, I invoke Godwin's Law...hey, wait, that doesn't work here...

By purity, I mean that it being software, the house has absolute and total control over the payout, as opposed to say, a physically random lot, like roulette. Now, while the payouts from roulette hold true in the aggregate (after all, the house is playing every table, every night, while your average casino visitor is only playing a couple of hours a year), the randomness is determined by the physical attributes of the ball and the wheel, the action of the croupier, and the local flow of the space-time continuum and the vibrations of multidimensional strings, and only two of those things are controlled by the house, while in video slots, the house controls all the software, right down to the pseudorandom number generator (unless, of course, every device contains a Schrodinger-grade randomizer unit). Even the house can have a bad run at the roulette tables, but they make up for it with volume.

Now, as to my point 4, it appears I rather confused matters. I blame a lack of terminology. Let's use the term 'engagement' to describe a player's attention investment into a particular game, or lot. I distinguish that from 'immersion' which I define as the degree to which a player associates his identity with his avatar in the game narrative. Now, let's use 'interactivity' to describe the degree to which a player can influence the nature of the game's end state. As a side note, the dichotomy between engagement and interactivity forms the basis of my rebuttal to Ebert's challenge that games cannot be Art , and also serves as a nice entree to the discussion of video games vs. movies, but that's another discussion for another time.

One of the things I try to stay sharply aware of in lottery games and sweepstakes is the degree of player interactivity. Optimally, as noted, there should be none. Compare and contrast state lottery scratchoff cards with private sweepstakes that use the scratchoff mechanic. Usually, the private offerings say something like 'scratch off one oval in column a, and one oval in column b, and win the prize,' and depnding on the distribution, column a's three ovals may contain one for cash prize, and two for a free order fries, while column b may contain a free order of fries underneath all three ovals, or one or more cash prizes that may or may not match the one from column a, while state sponsored scratchoffs don't even offer that degree of interactivity...you're exepcted to scratch everything off, and the sole determination of win or loss is determined by what's printed on the card.

A few years ago, the NJ state lottery offered some video game licensed scratchoffs, teris, and pac-man, I think. I was wondering how they would reconcile optimally random payout with player interactivity, and it turns out, of course they weren't rewarding mad brick dropping skillz. You exposed a number after you scratched, you entered it on the website, and you played the game, and when the game was over, they told you if your number was a winner. Playing the game was, in fact, optional.

It also leads to highlighting of an interesting philosophical dichotomy. In the US, sweepstakes are expected to be as randomly egalitarian as possible, ideally random. Canada, puritans that they are, apparently frowns on games of pure chance, so any sort of sweepstakes or contest has to have a token test of skill to enter, usually on the order of 2+2= or fill in the blank: morni_g.


Journey more important? Nup! Not by default.

"How about a wine review by someone who enjoys wine for the taste rather than because it lets him get hammered?

Tell you why, why don't you play "Heads I Win, Tails you Lose" if winning is really what you're after?

Isn't the journey more important than the destination?"

In short, No, not by default. If the author of the game intended the desitnation to be the most important, then that is what is most important for that particular game. Pushing your own preference for the journey on the game is missplaced.

Now if the game doesn't really say whether it's about the destination and your guess is that it's about the journey, okay, fair enough - in this case all we can do is guess. My guess is its about the destination. But neither of us have a way of proving or disproving our guesses. So I would still say it's missplaced to definately say the journey is more important than the destination. I guess in turn I shouldn't act as if it definately is about the destination/winning...but I'm pretty certain it's as simple as that.

And jeez, the whole hammered/headsIwin thing...c'mon! I know it can be a pain dealing with forum comments, but geez.


>How about a wine review by

>How about a wine review by someone who enjoys >wine for the taste rather than because it lets >him get hammered?

>Tell you why, why don't you play "Heads I Win, >Tails you Lose" if winning is really what you're >after?

>Isn't the journey more important than the >destination?

I'm going to assume this snark is leveled at the gambling question, and not the religion one. Mr. Costikyan has elegant snark enough for all, of course. The Flying Spaghetti Monster protect all those who start fights: that's why she is the patron deity of the Internet.

Would anyone drink scotch at all if it didn't get them hammered?

You can find all kinds of reviews of scotch, and all kinds of descriptions of the taste: smoky, peaty, delicious, acrid. But no one who doesn't want (at the minimum) a nice little buzz is going to be drinking them. No one says, "Man, I love peat. I gotta get me something peaty."

But if you want a buzz, you can drink vodka, or you can drink scotch. If you want to get hammered fast, you can drink everclear. If you want to get a nice buzz and a delicious taste, you can drink smoky, peaty scotch. If you want to mostly taste and a little buzz, have a glass of good wine.

Likewise, if you're gambling, even within the context of a totally random set of events with no 'interactivity' at all, you can have quick outcomes, or slow ones with a great deal of suspense. Different people want different things. Some just want a pure rush of having money on the line. Some want a nice slow buzz: for example, buying a lottery ticket for a $300 million jackpot 3 days in advance. Or playing Candy Land at $100 a head.

This is a great blog. To follow your analogy, it's mostly about reviewing food and non-alcoholic beverages. You're not used to vice here... But I think one can acknowledge that people play games for "immoral" reasons and still try to review the experience of that game among games of its type. Not that you should have to, here... it's your blog, after all.


Your comment on purity is

Your comment on purity is true enough, but only true enough. Any jurisdiction with a slots approval process (i.e., not the internet) is pretty clear that the machine's payout has to be fixed. You can't push a lever in the back room and reduce the pays. From a practical perspective, video slots are just like roulette--the house can have a bad night at the slots, too. It's just that the casino's percentage is higher and the volume is higher on the slots, so they probably won't.

As far as interactivity goes, my preferred gambling experiences (and I am by no means a big player) are those where the player's skills and a random event interact: poker, backgammon, and sports and proposition betting. I think these are more fun, and better experiences. But as noted, they lack a degree of casino control.

Traditionally, casinos offer these games by having the players wager against each other, while the casino provides a set of rules and a referee, and having a 'rake' on every game that ensures the casino cut remains steady. But this is a slower business than roulette, blackjack, or slots, so casinos only have these games available by player demand. That reduces innovation... if players don't know it, they won't ask for it. And even if they do demand, say, to gamble on Candy Land, the number of games per hour would be low. Either the stakes or the rake would have to be enormous.

Casinos and lotteries aren't the be all and end all of gambling, of course. (And, it should go without saying, the tiniest corner of games.) They're a very specifically limited kind: purely random. It's just that they're so profitable and popular that makes them worth thinking about in the first place.

And anyone who doesn't think so is as bad as Hilter!