Artistic Integrity in Video Games

I don't usually weigh in on debates like these, but as with most debates there are valid points on both sides, so I thought I'd join in.

"With a game, the final 'collaborator' is the player.  Thus, the player has a say in the artistic vision.  The game isn’t done until it is played."

This is a comment made by a recent acquaintance of mine, and fellow writer, Alan Dreher regarding this whole dust-up over Mass Effect 3. ("Why Claims Regarding “Artistic Integrity” Do Not Apply To Mass Effect 3 or Other Games.") Before I move on, you should definitely check out Alan's blog, he makes some good points and I look forward to reading more from him. Now, allow me a moment to reflect.

An artistic message doesn't cease to exist simply because someone doesn't experience it, nor does it change based on the way it is experienced. While I take the meaning, this is a very fine line to walk, a very narrow distinction. The problem is that even though players can influence the outcome of ME3 based on the decisions they make while playing, there are still a finite number of outcomes which have already been programmed into the game. The player doesn't program anything or add any elements into the game, they merely use their decisions to open up the pathways that already exist as a result of the game creator's vision.

To say the player contributes to the art form by playing it and has a right to dictate or at least call for new endings would be like saying a TV or movie viewer contributes to the vision by pressing Play on their DVR, or that the Star Wars films are fair game because the end-product isn't realized until a viewer chooses whether to view it in traditional or 3D format (as in Spectator Theory, mentioned by Alan in his piece - the problem with Spec Theory is that it discounts the idea that the original artist has any intent or vision. Yes, spectators can view things with a different vision, but it doesn't change the intent or vision of the original artist.) Likewise, Dallas fans wouldn't have the right to say, "Hey, I thought JR would die after he got shot, I demand they film an alternate timeline!"

Yes, it's everyone's right to speak their mind, to form opinions, and to like or dislike anything on which they've laid down the cash. But just because you don't like it doesn't mean you have the right to demand that someone else change it to suit your wishes, especially when the company has gone to the effort of programming multiple different endings to experience into the game - as is the case with any of the previous installments of this series, and most RPGs today. (Another example, many DVDs and Blu-Rays come with alternate endings - that's a bonus for viewers and a great thing for producers and directors to include, but it would be ridiculous to suggest that it's within reason for viewers to say, "I didn't like ANY of the endings, film me a new one!" I would expect these sorts of demands to be followed up by statements like, "I demand satisfaction!" followed by the slap of a white glove, or perhaps a call for "More ale, wench!") After all, what's next? "I was wearing green-tinted sunglasses when I visited the Louvre recently and when I checked out the Mona Lisa, she looked great in a kelly green dress. Imagine my disappointment to see the 'real' painting online today and see that the dress is in fact equal parts gold and red trimmed with greyish blue. Somebody should really green that bitch up, yo." See what I'm saying?

Now, ultimately, it IS the choice of the artist whether or not they want to change their vision in order to appeal to the masses. George Lucas made Jar Jar the dupe who led to the ultimate downfall of the Republic in The Clone Wars largely because most everyone hated him in The Phantom Menace. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle did resurrect Sherlock Holmes largely due to fan outcry. Charles Dickens halted publication of further chapters of Oliver Twist because Jewish readers (namely, Ms. Eliza Davis) found his references to Fagin offensive. (He also changed the ending of Great Expectations before publication, because a colleague urged him the original vision was too grim.) From these examples, you can see that even in these circumstances there are far ranging reasons (and far different interpretations of "reasonableness" with which to regard a demand for changes.) The "outrage" over killing off a beloved character isn't nearly as serious as concerns over antisemitism, but it's up to the artist how (or even if) they react to the backlash. Many times a change is to be applauded, as with Dickens' adjustment in Twist. Other times, though, the call for a change seems less substantive.


I'm not saying anything people haven't already argued, but if a customer doesn't like a product they've bought, they make that known, and then they don't buy more products by that company (be it a restaurant, clothing manufacturer, film producer, or game designer.) And if the issue is with the fact that they've already spent $60 and don't like the ending, well, at the time of this writing, they're still well within most stores' return window as long as they kept the receipt.

The thing is, we live in a society of entitlement now. Consumers feel entitled to insist on changes to everything from tire tread depth to the amount of red dye number 40 in their Life Savers. In some instances the complaints are valid, especially where safety or discrimination concerns come into play. Consumers have every right to expect that the products on which they spend money won't injure, kill, or otherwise cause illness to them. On the other hand, when the end product is not a safety concern, but rather the creative vision resulting from the collaboration of individuals, be it a group of 4, 40, 400, or 4,000, the consumers of that entertainment have no right to demand changes just because it didn't match what they expected.

On the contrary, that challenge to one's expectations is the very illustration of artistic intent, and sticking to that vision is the very definition of artistic integrity. Many artists - be they novelists, film makers, or game developers - thrive on the ability to surprise their consumers with plot twists or stunning endings. Even in the instances where those endings may be considered underwhelming, it is usually a calculated decision on the part of the artist - fans may expect a cut and dried ending, but the artist doesn't always want to answer all questions or wrap up all subplots because seldom is anything in real life that cut-and-dried. True artists ply their craft in an effort to make art imitate life in some way. If life is ambiguous, messy, and seldom completely resolved with all loose ends tied off, many artists want their works to reflect that. (As an example, comments by Ubisoft in a recent Game Informer interview which state exactly that - endings aren't meant to be perfect or 100% resolved because that's not how life works, and you never know if further installments might answer certain of those questions while introducing twice as many more.)

But you know what I think is the main thing they want to do with so called "imperfect" endings? Stimulate discussion. And that's exactly what EA and BioWare have done. After all, what have we all been talking about for almost a month now?