I wouldn’t have thought typography could be the subject of a video game, but Type:Rider does just that. The levels are a tour of Western history from the middle ages onward, each corresponding to a different typeface in the context of its era. The Gothic type’s levels take cues from medieval churches while the 1920’s Futura feels like a modern art museum. The player’s avatar is a colon, two rolling dots bound together by some magnetic-seeming attraction. Gameplay consists of navigating through terrain including each letter of the alphabet rendered in the that typeface. The letters are arranged to create interesting geometrical puzzles that make them memorable. The player also navigates through oversized versions of the printing technologies of the day, meanwhile collecting asterisks that unlock brief passages about the key figures and inventions of the time period.
There are a number of features that make Type:Rider stand out. It is highly polished, with beautiful visual environments and suitable thematic music. (Surprisingly the typesetting of the informative passages is often found wanting; perhaps the English translation wasn’t proofed by the original European developers?) The controls are relatively expressive, in that with a few taps the skilled player can move the colon in one of many possible ways. The game has value: it took a team of experienced designers and developers time and money to create it, and the user must expend time and money to enjoy it. But yet, the game has a deeper message. Yes, it’s about typography, but mere type is the means by which we transfer knowledge; typography is the beatification of knowledge. Typography rewards diligence, attention to detail, graphical density, and knowledge of prior work. Typography is the wings on which intellectualism is borne.
Contrast this with the maddeningly weak and imprecise wings of Flappy Bird. Wired does a good job recounting the saga of the infamous iOS game and its creator, Dong Nguyen. Anyone can pick up the game and play it immediately, but playing well is exceedingly difficult: mastery and skill-building are sacrificed on the alter of ease-of-use. Play happens in all-too-brief bouts, which provide instant gratification with no time commitment. No depth of knowledge, skill, or artistic message is ever accumulated.
Papert distinguishes between children programming computers and computers programming children, and this is certainly the latter. Flappy bird conditions one exact response, with no room for exploration or creativity. No justification is given as to why the world must be the way it so firmly is. More concretely, flappy bird is fake difficulty, riding on an artificially narrow method of control. It perniciously makes the smart phone, and the human, less smart.
Dong Nguyen made (and is likely still making) fifty thousand dollars a day off advertising shown to the game’s users. I highly doubt the users (largely teens) are spending anywhere close to that amount of money on the advertised products. Flappy bird generates money but not wealth; like doomed financial products it is built on value that simply isn’t there. Sooner or later, this bubble must burst.
But despite the attention directed towards Flappy bird, it is hardly unique. Only four of the top fifty grossing apps (as of when I checked) are not games (Pandora, Skype, and two dating apps). The rest are games, targeted at the under-20 crowd, driven by ads and in-app purchases (which include the removal of ads). The app store has become Western kids in a gigantic candy store, and this has pushed adults and their fine intellectual cuisine off to the margins. The market has spoken: mass-produced low-quality ad-ridden software for entitled children is what sells, adults and society be damned.
I will quote (again) from Jaron Lanier, You Are Not A Gadget: “Rooms full of MIT PhD engineers [are] not seeking cancer cures or sources of safe drinking water for the underdeveloped world but schemes to send little digital pictures of teddy bears and dragons between adult members of social networks. At the end of the road of the pursuit of technological sophistication appears to lie a playhouse in which human kind regresses to nursery school.”
Even Type:Rider is not immune. It has the requisite Facebook and Twitter integration, though they are less prominent. It is also available as a Facebook game. What is offers, then, is not a completely pure solitary experience but rather a compromise given the nature of the market.
It is said that technology changes quickly and people change slowly, but the reality is more complex. People have shown a remarkable ability to adapt to new technologies, without fundamentally altering how they think or what goals they have. Meanwhile, the face of technology changes, but many ideas remain timeless and fixed, old wine repackaged into new bottles. Furthermore standards and protocols by which devices communicate with each other, once set, become incredibly difficult to change. We are in danger of not changing with technology, and then creating technology that prevents us from changing.