DIALING IT IN

This text originally appeared in the PLAY issue of Aalto ARTS' student magazine TORSO.

So here’s a boomer take: where have all the kids gone? Back in my day you couldn’t throw a stick without hitting a pack of snot-nosed schoolkids playing street hockey. Something has changed with the dominance of surveillance technologies and the hyper-optimization they foster. From kids to adults, a fundamental component of fun is suppressed to temper our own or someone else's anxiety. That component is risk.

Why is swinging on a swing set fun? Because you might fall off. Why is poker with a five euro buy-in fun? Because you might lose it all. Why is it more fun to watch fast cars race than slow ones? Because a fast one might yeet off the track into the audience.

Theme parks are the epitome of this. You know the rides are meticulously designed and battle-tested for utmost safety, and yet, that ever-so-small chance of your harness snapping and flinging you off the rollercoaster to a squishy end is what makes the experience utterly compelling, exhilarating and even magical. The theme park is a giant game, and the agreed upon rule is this: in all likelihood you will not die here, but there's always a chance.

The real world is a mess of interrelated dynamics that are beyond your control. Games try to take a slice of that world and put a frame around it. In this "game space" you get to find out new things about yourself and others, and the amount of risk (sometimes merely perceived, as in illusions) is like a reality dial. At the zero position you're in the land of pure imagination (no consequences), at the max you're in pure reality (only consequences). There's a sweet spot somewhere where both overlap, and you can experience something without quite paying the price for it. This prepares you for the "real world", in which consequences rarely follow pre-arranged, predictable paths that terminate at designated spots.

For example, it might be fun to fantasize about your crush. It's more fun to flirt with them, and flirting is a kind of game where both parties have the option to approach and retreat as the situation develops. There's some risk of rejection, but it's easy to save face, because you're just "playing around". It's unlikely that any consequences are going to last longer than the interaction.

However, it's not so fun to confess your true feelings. Usually it's terrifying. There's some threshold where the amount of risk turns in on itself, and things start to feel "too real." Even if your feelings are reciprocated, that bliss is also tinged with the fear of not knowing what you're getting yourself into. The game does not follow its rules anymore.

There's a time and place for different levels of risk, but it certainly feels like the intensity dial is being pulled down on purpose. Children carry surveillance devices on them at all times, and are never truly free to go for a risky adventure in the countryside. This does mean that they don't get lost, but doesn't this come at the cost of self-development? Some of the most resonant memories from childhood are the ones where you discover your own independence and authenticity.

That process doesn't stop, by the way, so see if you can turn up your imagination/reality dial a notch or two to find that sweet spot. The price is more anxiety, but there is no new life without anxiety. We all know that! (Or if you're a gung-ho riskmaxxer, turn the dial down a bit to try out new roles - after all, it's just a game.)