I Forced a Fortnite Addicted Teen to Play an Atari Game – For Science
By Jakob Johns | Misfit Media Columnist
Allow me to introduce you to Michael, a fourteen year-old boy that, for the past two-to-three years, has been playing video games continuously every single day. His sessions aren’t without interruption, but he’ll end up playing a combined minimum of four hours every day. His maximum is pushed up by a little every other day; it could be eight, potentially nine hours total. Eventually, I’m sure he’ll end up merging with his PS4 and becoming a perpetually gaming lifeform that absorbs blue-light, much like how moss absorbs sunlight to survive.
Thanks to Misfit Media, I have acquired a brand-new copy of Missile Command: Recharged, a revamped version of a classic Atari title originally released in 1980. Meanwhile, thanks to the internet, I have also acquired a janky, emulated version of the original title with… fine graphics and sounds (by which I mean you can see what’s happening, and things make sounds). For today’s experiment, I’ve decided to run the subject, Michael, through a few rounds of the latter version of Missile Command and see how long he can go before reinforcement is required. First, positive reinforcement will be used to keep him playing. When he stops responding to free chocolates rewarded for won rounds, negative reinforcement will then be employed (a nerf gun to the back of the neck).
I went to Michael and simply told him: “I need you to play a game for me”. He replied with a dead “ok”. Thus, the experiment began. He was ecstatic as I took him to my computer, ready to play a game on my gaming rig. He sat down and his eyes, usually pooled with monetised pinks and purples, were met with about ten pixels sharing a small space on the screen like bus passengers. Michael looked up at me in horror, but it was too late. I had already donned my lab coat and notepad; time for some results.
Michael lasted approximately 28 seconds before he asked if he could leave. I told him that a victorious round would be met with chocolate. He then proceeded to play for another four and a half minutes, before deciding that he could no longer tolerate the meagre chocolate-for-pixels exchange rate. He actually lasted longer than I had originally hypothesised (I assumed he might crack five minutes, maybe six). It was at this point that I drew my nerf gun and successfully forced Michael to continue for another three minutes.
Once he wised up and remembered that foam darts don’t really hurt that bad, he attempted to resist. Before he could escape, I offered him the rest of the chocolate in exchange for one last go at a different version of the same game. He reluctantly agreed. So, I booted up Missile Command: Recharged. The difference between these two games, you ask? One of them was made in 1980, and the other is a remake from 2020 that looks like Geometry Dash. The difference is stark:
For Michael, playing Recharged after playing the Atari original was like driving a Ferrari after taking the bus. The level of engagement from Michael was immediately noticeable, and he gladly played the brightly coloured game for another ten to fifteen minutes. Then, he escaped my home office and proceeded to play Apex: Legends for the remainder of the evening. He got a rare Bloodhound skin. Good for him.
Now, I’m a terrible scientist, but I’d say that this experiment was somewhat interesting for a number of reasons. Michael was much, much more enthusiastic about the game once he was playing a version with more engaging aesthetic choices, despite the fundamental game being near-identical. Could it be that perhaps the fundamentals of gameplay have never been completely in question, and that one of the only things that has really changed over the decades is graphics? Is the attention span of a young gamer only determined by pretty colours? Perhaps not, since games like Undertale will find immense popularity despite relatively simple graphics. Hell, one of my favourite games has pixel graphics: Hotline Miami, which features a strong emphasis on gameplay and music.
Or is it a false sense of progression? Recharged includes an added progression system allowing for players to upgrade their missiles after well-played levels. Does this artificial sense of purpose add to the game more than the base gameplay itself? Is the game not worth playing unless you actively get something out of it, even if that something is nothing outside of the game? This certainly speaks to Michael’s love of Fortnite and Apex skins that are worth dozens of hours of time, but return nothing.
Perhaps a larger sample-size will yield better results. Hell, maybe you should take part. Go try the original Missile Command online, or buy the Recharged version on Steam. Maybe you’ll start to feel differently about where your fun in video games comes from.
Credit:
Missile Command (1980)
Missile Command: Recharged (2020)