Rules, Death, Happiness and Schadenfreude
I want to tell you a story.
I want to tell you a story about a board game experience that began to open my eyes to what board games are, what they do and what they tell us about ourselves and each other.
“Wow!”, you must be saying to yourself, “That’s seem like lofty goals there. What is this paradigm-shifting experience that you had? It must be a game of staggering design to be able to elicit such a response. Surely it must be the most grandiose game of all games to cause such a pondering!”
First off, you used some ace Scrabble words there. I am impressed, but you should also calm down.
And second, the game was UNO.
Stick with me.
It Happened One Night
It was a Saturday night and my family and I had just finished a game of Carcassonne. The evening was obviously winding down, but we weren’t quite done yet. We needed one more game to cap off the evening.
We gave my 70 year old mother Dealer’s Choice and she chose UNO. This would not have been my selection, but I understood why she would gravitate towards it.
Like most people who have taken a hard dive into the board game hobby, I grew up playing mass market games. But, with both parents as teachers, the games we played would trend towards the “educational”. Instead of Monopoly, Sorry and Parcheesi, I grew up playing nerd-faire like Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit at 9 years old. My parents would bend the rules a little, and help me along the way, with the primary goal not to win but to improve. To become smarter.
It obviously didn’t work.
Back to present day. My foray (oh look, another Scrabble word) into modern board gaming had only just recently begun . Mom enjoys playing games, no doubt. But these hobby games were new and rules heavy, and some were turning out to be quite complicated. She needed to go back to her home turf. She needed something familiar and comforting.
So UNO it was!
The Butterfly Effect
Now, none of us had played UNO in forever and couldn’t quite remember the rules. We could have looked them up, but how hard could it be? Play a card that matches either color or number, first one out wins. I suggested we play like I remember when I was a kid where, if you didn’t have a card to make a match, you kept drawing till you could.
The game started fine, but as it progressed, a certain chill filled the room. One of us would be down to two and on the very next turn would have to take ten cards to get a match. It was funny at first, but then it became maddening. Over and over. More and more cards. A skip turn or a reverse used as defensive soon became a plea of forgiveness, “I’m sorry, it’s the only one I could match!”
But what really struck me was the mood around the table. At first we were laughing at playing such a silly game. That turned to annoyance. Then frustration. Then despair. 2 cards would become 20 and there was nothing we could do to stop it. What was once holding on to last pairs became a desperate hope that we would die soon to put us out of our misery. And that soon turned to the cold hard realization that the only way to have that sweet release of death was to take the cards and sli….
….so we looked up the rules.
Turns out, you’re only supposed to take one card if you can’t match. Not all of them.
Whoopsie.
As Good As It Gets
We picked up where we left off, but playing with the correct rules. And it was here that I noticed something. The table state had changed. Not the game state. We still had three hands, a draw pile and a discard pile. But our frame of mind as group had changed. What was once a frantic mess of anguish and pain had become much calmer, thoughtful and considered. Choices now became apparent and useful. Instead of solely focusing on our hand, we were paying attention to others. If a wild came up, what someone declared became extremely important.
It had become interesting and pleasant.
I mean, it was still a simple card game. But at least it wasn’t painful.
But here’s the thing that hit me, and is the whole reason why I’m writing this essay and creating this blog – there’s something to learn here.
Now the obvious thing is that the game design defines the experience. One simple rule change clearly highlights that. Playing one way was an excruciating experience for all involved and another was the nice pleasant half-hour we enjoyed finishing the game.
But here’s the other side of the coin – the reason we were playing by that first rule was because that’s what I remember playing as a kid and enjoying it. Many kids do. So much that many people think those are the actual rules.
So the question is why – why do kids play enjoy playing that way?
Groundhog Day
As any parent of a toddler will tell you, and really any one that has been near a child knows, they love repetition.
This is not because kids are dumb or annoying. I mean they are, but that’s not why. Studies have shown that the love of repetition is actually a learning process. Seeing and saying and doing something over and over not only brings comfort, it helps them learn how the world works.
Take the game of peek-a-boo.
One of the most universally played games by babies everywhere – it’s a game of no consequence for the adult, but the entire world for the baby. Literally. When their eyes are covered and then uncovered and everything is still exactly the same, the babies are learning that the entire world doesn’t disappear when they close their eyes. Everything is still there.
Peek-a-boo helps a baby learn object permanence.
When a kid is playing UNO, they aren’t learning object permanence. Instead, when they see that someone has to take a huge stack of cards, they are learning that the pain of someone else is funny.
Someone else has to take a stack of cards? Yep, still funny. Now you have to take a huge stack of cards. Yep, that’s funny, too.
Schadenfreude. While playing UNO, the kids are learning and reinforcing Schadenfreude.
They might not be dumb, but kids sure can be jerks.
About Time
All of this begs the question, “Isn’t it ridiculous that you are doing that deep of a dive into the game of UNO?” And I would say, “Abso freaking lutely!”
But does that necessarily make it wrong? I don’t think so.
A game is designed in a time and place.
That game is then played by people in a time and place. And not necessarily the same one.
But the decisions made by both the designer and the player, the creator and the participant of an experience are a reflection of those people. And of their respective time and space, their values and their thought process.
Games that were played in ancient Egypt are different from games played in Victorian England, which are different from games played today. But people can play those games and get another viewpoint of how someone else viewed what they considered fun.
And that look and reflection doesn’t always have to be deep and philosophical Sometimes it’s just fun or funny.
For instance:
UNO was invented in 1971 by a barber and his son after an argument about, get this, the rules of Crazy Eights. After creating the game, the father would sell it out of his barber shop and his son would give them away at school. When other local businesses started selling it a year later, he sold the rights to a group that was headed by someone who owned, and again I’m not make this up, a funeral parlor.
Apparently, UNO has a long standing history of not remembering the rules while also hoping for death.
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3 comments
[…] UNO and the Art of Game Design […]
And here I thought the “draw until you can play” rule was preparing us kids for the real world economy.
Yep – and instead of worrying about how the game is not that great for everyone, laugh at the person doing slightly worse than you. /sarcasm