In game development there is a distinction between toys and games. A ball is a toy. Soccer is game. You can do many things with a ball, which are fun, which are not games. It is when you add rules and the ability to win or lose, that a toy becomes a game.
Really life is whatever you want it to be that you can manage to create, while not dying. Dying is not a loss state if you’re treating your life as a toy, it’s just the end of being able play with life, your toy. Same thing if you puncture your ball such that it won’t work as a ball any more.
So with toys there are end-states, like death or even just deciding to stop playing, but there are no win states which are externally imposed or socially agreed on. In soccer we know how we can use the ball (don’t touch it with your hands); how goals are scored, how many people plays, how you win.
If you’ve played it, think SimCity – the city simulator. There are no win conditions. If you want to create a huge slum filled metropolis, great. A small utopian community with great public transit? Great. SimCity has no rules, it only has world simulation physics. These physics don’t match the real world, they are an approximation and a theory, and they limit how you play, but they don’t make SimCity a game: it’s a toy, you decide what sort of city you want. You can create your own win situation “when I create a city of 5 millions with an average income of over 50K”, but that’s not imposed by the program. With a ball you can decide you “win” when you can reliably make free shots four times out of five. But ultimately win conditions in a toy are arbitrary: a matter of personal choice.
Who wins life? If you die with the most power or money, did you win? If you did the most good, do you win? If you enjoyed yourself the most? Made great art? Raised great kids? Went fishing as often as you wanted?
Life has its own physics, of course, you can’t fly without external aid, for example. Objects have gravity. Our bodies impose both abilities and limitations on us, including massive mental limitations most people are only dimly aware of. Our senses order the play field in a way very similar to cameras in computer games. The world you see, and smell, is very different from the world your dog sees and smells; let alone the world a bat, with echolocation, inhabits.
Humans set up games all the time. Capitalism is a game with rules, and coercive penalties for breaking them. Democracy is, as well. Hang up a shingle as a doctor without getting society’s approval first and see how long it is before the cops pay you a visit.
Different societies love different games. Much of Dark Ages and Medieval Europe loved the faith game: the people they idealized were the truly pious, especially the renunciates who kept their vows, like friars and hermits and the occasional strict monastery (they tended to prefer giving gifts to nunneries, nuns being regarded as less likely be engaged in constant drunkenness and debauchery).
For much of Chinese history much of the big game was the examination game: how well you wrote tests based on your knowledge of classic writings and their commentary.
Each game favors are certain type of person: the men and women who rise to the top of the capitalism game have almost no qualities in common with those who rise to the top of the renunciate game, and almost nothing in common with the scholar-bureaucrats who ran the Chinese empire so often. Different qualities and different development were rewarded.
None of this alters the fact that life is a toy, like a ball or SimCity. You can add rules to it, and enforce those rules with sanctions, but ultimately each person decides their own win conditions. One of the decisions is whether to play one of the approved games, of course, and many people don’t realize they can opt out of much of those games.
A society’s level of coercion is easily measured when thought of in these terms: how hard is it to opt out of the socially mandated games; or at least how onerous are the requirements of those games? Will you die? Go hungry? Just not get as much approval? How many different games are there, and how easy is it to move between them, so that you can find a way of playing with your toy that isn’t obnoxious to you, and is at least somewhat socially approved. It’s hard, today, for example, to be a monastic or a hermit; society in the West isn’t set up for it: people won’t feed you. In Thailand, on the other hand, it’s pretty easy. People not involved in the monastic or hermit life think those lives are valuable and are willing to support them.
You’re probably thinking “monasticism and hermitting produces nothing”. First, it’s not true: it produces truths, and temples and teachers and teachings which non-monastics value. But even if true, it would be irrelevant: the choice of what games societies support is largely non-rational, and based on esthetic, moral and ethical choices, along with pure power considerations. Bankers in the Western world were a net negative through 00s but they had the power and were valued deeply enough by certain parts of society that they were bailed out for a cost of trillions. Suburbs are economically unproductive, pure consumption to a degree that shames monastics and hermits, yet US society is largely set up as a giant subsidy for the suburban lifestyle, because Americans value having a house with a yard away from a lot of other people, surrounded by a bunch of other houses very similar to theirs inhabited by people very much like them, generally far from any productive activity.
That’s an esthetic choice: it’s a choice about what the good life is, “the good life is living in suburbs, therefore we will subsidize suburbs massively, because that’s how we want to live”.
That subsidy is a direct drain on all the people who look at suburbs and hate them, and don’t want to live in them. Living in suburbs requires economic relationships, embedded in law and custom, which are coercive and unequal.
“You win if you buy a big house in the suburbs, have 2 cars and 2 kids and die comfortably”.
That’s a game statement.
Now some people have probably been offended by me calling life a toy, because we think of toys as trivial and disposable and we like to think that lives aren’t, even though we certainly very often act as if other people’s lives are disposable. But the word communicates that life is something you decide what you’re going to do with. Life always ends: there are no immortals—so what enjoyment or satisfaction are you going to get out of your toy before you no longer are able to play with it?
And, perhaps, what sort of society do you want to live in, so that you can get the most out of that toy? And do you care if others are able to use their toys as they want, or not?
There’s no bedrock here, there’s no ultimate source of authority. Unless you believe in God, there is no system of reason which can logically prove that we should be kind or cruel, want money or not want it, be hermits or epicures; or anything else.
So, what are you going to do with your life, your toy, and how are you going to help, or hinder, others in their enjoyment of their toy?
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