There's a Battle in My Head...

There's a battle in my head that stops the words in my mouth before they dare escape. It renders me motionless, pulling my mind into a state of complete philosophical quandary. I start to see conflicting factors cast above me like stars, and the voices around me feed into this elaborate atmosphere. Meteors, constellations, and nebulous schools of thought begin to form, but none claim my focus as I probe for the answers to life... or at least, the answers to my life.

For a long time, I've considered games with meaning and an intellectual or educational purpose as the pinnacle of my design goals. I expected to be fighting an uphill battle, but I felt that the fight would be one that engaged many: strong, sharp minds sounding the call to war, weathered hands with experience and determination wielding the standard. What I forgot to expect was the vast array of problems that slow down any band of warriors: the volley of setbacks that snag the troops with budget restraints, communication breakdowns, and deadlines that force a loss in quality.

It's gotten me thinking about whether it is worth the scars. Would it be any easier to ignore the intense messages and clearly-defined educational goals of "serious" games? Would it make things simpler if I focused on creating games for people who already play them, love them, and will shell out their money for anything with strong reviews and a good ad campaign? Would I feel better if I allowed this conflicted battle to carry on around me without my input at all? It's not unreasonable to expect that someone is going to come up with an idea for me rather than with me, and that I will only find challenge in working within such constraints. Would it be best for me to cool my fires and settle to the task without question and concern?

Easier, simpler? Maybe. Better? Definitely not. It isn't in my heart to stand down, to stop pushing boundaries, to stop asking questions. I certainly don't expect to be able to devise the strategy for every revolutionary assault on game development, but I do expect to remain a messenger and a reporter in the fray. I see a lot of things, and they aren't often pretty or easy. My only hope is that the relay of such observations will not fall on deaf ears. I can see that I am in a good place to sound the warning, and while messages are often lost in the frantic swells of production, I think a watchful hand from above that knows how to use its many eyes and ears is really all I can ask for.