The Problem with Choice

Don’t let my title fool you. Despite two classes and a lot of skimmed readings, I’m no philosophy student. After the election, I’m in no mood to talk about abortion anymore. No, I’d like to talk about another kind of choice: the choice of what I want to do in my video games.

Sorry, let me explain. Twenty years ago, when you picked up an NES controller, there wasn’t a lot of thinking involved. Evil dragon-dinosaur-thing Bowser had kidnapped Princess Peach, and it was up to you, as Mario, the intrepid plumber-turned-hero, to save her. So you hopped and bopped your way to the end of the game, dunked Bowser into a conveniently placed pit of lava (villains really do need to set up shop in safer environs), and saved her. Congratulations; here’s your score; want to play again?

Now there’s a decision I don’t mind making. I’ve got work tomorrow, so I think I’ll turn Mario Bros. off for now. Or, maybe, my friend Cody beat the game five minutes faster than I did, so I’ll give it another shot. Pretty simple, right?

I should’ve known things were taking a nasty turn when Mario Bros. 3 asked me which level full of murderous turtles I wanted to play next. You could still do them all, sure, but the lazy plumber-hero could just take the quickest path to the princess. That option wasn’t a game-breaker for me: I could go back and fill in all those unfinished levels later, whenever I wanted to.

These days, though? Mass Effect recently presented me with a sticky situation involving Wrex, a mercenary who’d teamed up with me to save the known universe. His people had been struck with a debilitating disease that was killing them faster than they could breed, and the villain’s lair just happened to contain the secret to curing the disease. The only way to stop the villain from annihilating all known life was to bomb the facility and the cure with it. Wrex, needless to say, was in a right state about things. Then the game asked me if I’d rather try to talk him down, or pick up my gun and put him down. The fate of the universe is at stake, pick!

Or take Fallout 3. Nuclear war has left America a near-deserted wasteland. When I came across Billy, an orphaned boy crying about mutant ants attacking his house, I discovered that the insects had been experimented on by Dr. Lesco, crazy geneticist. He was looking for a way to return the ants to their pre-radiated size (did I mention that they were five feet long now?) but had accidentally given them the ability to breathe fire instead. The ants had killed everyone in the town of Grayditch but Billy, and needless to say, I was pretty peeved at Lesco for what he’d done. But, on the other hand, he was trying to help. So, knock him off for his crimes, or clear out the ant’s nest so he can inject a new shrinking-solution into the next generation of eggs?

The worst, though, is Oblivion. The emperor of the land is dead, and you’ve just escaped from prison (there on false charges, of course). And well, that’s it. The map is blank, and so is your quest log. The game just asks you to start meandering around and doing whatever you’d like. Go learn to use magic, maybe. Find a good wife to marry. Or, if you’re up to it, save the world from ancient demons come to enslave humanity—if you can find them.

I play games to get away from long days of decisions. Chicken or cheese steak? Homework or House, M.D.? Sleep or study? Fun night at a concert or food for a week? Life’s not bad, by a long shot, but it sure can be exhausting. And don’t even get me started on work; mankind was not meant to file papers into binders for five hours at a time.

So when I sit down at my computer for a couple of hours, I don’t really want to question my morals and pick between saving a kid or the planet. Don’t get me wrong—freedom is a beautiful thing, and it’s a lot easier to come by in games than real life. But sometimes, I just want to go all the way from level 1 to level 8, save that princess, and call it an night.