The Great Escape

And freelance writer Sam Giddings thinks games simply don’t give you a choice: you can’t just switch off and break down when that controller is in your hands.

“Why does gaming work so well as an escape?  One simple reason: gaming is a more all-encompassing distraction than other media.  It requires not just concentration, but input and direct involvement.  A book or a film will require you to concentrate, too, but not to react physically.  A gamer will need to use any or all of the following at any given time: dexterity, co-rdination, good reactions, iterative learning, recall, planning.  People say that they ‘instinctively’ know where the buttons are on a controller, for example – it’s not instinct at all; it’s conditioned learning.  Gaming requires the use of more faculties than just thought.  If stress or grief means concentration doesn’t come readily while reading a book or watching a film, there is little that can be done to rectify this; a game demands that you respond and simply doesn’t allow you the luxury of not being able to focus.  Perhaps it’s more than this: I’d go so far as to suggest games focus your mind in a different way.”

THE ROAD IS LONG
Anybody who read my initial feature on escapism last year will know I can relate to Jennifer’s story. Having lost someone very dear to me, my life spiralled out of control and I found myself surrounded by people but never more alone. Sitting in a bedroom at my mother-in-law’s, where we stayed in the time following my daughter’s passing, I turned to my Xbox 360 – one game specifically, Crackdown, and to a lesser extent the Halo 3 beta. For so long, the Crackdown disc sat in the tray of my 360, and I used the world of Pacific City to be someone else for snatches of time – time spent scaling the tallest buildings, sometimes in a car, sometimes on foot, experimenting with the physics of the game and just enjoying the moments.

And then, after what seemed like a ridiculously long wait, I ventured online with my close friends to play Halo 3. I remembered what it was like to be happy, laughing when a friend was sniped by the same person continually, enjoying being part of a team and – more importantly – being part of the world once more.

Videogames help so many people in so many ways. The industry has its enemies, and some would even read this article and perhaps believe it to be an unhealthy hobby: that we should ‘man up’ and face life for what it is. I’m sure there are many who would disagree, many likeminded gamers who will read this nodding their head as they realise that they too have lived through a similar problem.

The writers who have contributed here never avoided reality; they merely let it pass them by while they dealt with their problems in more manageable chunks. Obviously, it’s a case of everything in moderation: 80 hours a week in World of Warcraft or Second Life is perhaps akin to hiding under the bed and telling the world to “go away”. But allowing yourself to explore new worlds and set yourself tasks – like collecting agility orbs or setting a high score on your favourite halfpipe – is entirely healthy. It’s a temporary escape that prepares your body and mind to venture back to normality.

Videogames offer a great tool to help with life. Confidence issues may be overcome, organisation skills are improved, and they act as a phenomenal timesink when required. I know how much videogames helped me, and I’m sure those who have shared their stories here would agree. I would be as bold as to state that a videogame perhaps saved my life. That’s got to be important, right? By Daniel Lipscombe.

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