This month's issue of Scientific American magazine (my favorite rag) has an article which has quite seriously rocked my world. The article is called
The Expert Mind, and I've just finished reading it for a second time.
The gist of the article is quite simply this: that becoming an expert, or genius, in a subject depends far more on accumulated knowledge than on one's innate intelligence or talent.
On the one hand, this study teaches us something scientific about the idea of 'experience.' While it is conventional wisdom that someone experienced in a subject will perform in a superior way to one not experienced, the studies done for the article (based mostly on the performance of chess masters) show to a degree how and why this comes about.
Specifically, by looking at how chess masters come to understand the positions on a chess board, researchers learned that one learns the knowledge needed to become an expert bit by bit, layering knowledge at progressively higher levels. With advanced learning, a sophisticated circumstance such as a complete state of a chess board is reduced to a relatively small set of variants of previously understood positions. This process of intellectual complexity reduction is called, rather prosaically, "chunking" in the world of cognitive science.
Examples of "chunking" abound in the videogame world (and this concept does get mention in Raph Koster's excellent book
A Theory of Fun). For instance when a player is first learning a fighting game, the thought process might be "press square for quick kick". Soon however the label of the button becomes chunked, and the player can simply think "quick kick" without mentally referencing the button, and can create a new process, like "quick kick, then jump and punch low." As the player becomes even more expert, even that combo becomes chunked, and the player might only have to think "counterattack for heavy character jumping punch."
Researchers refer to the process which leads to successful chunking as "effortful study." What this means is, it is not sufficient merely to practice a thing if one wants to increase expertise. It means that practice must target above one's current skill level, requiring continuous mental effort. So for example today's chess masters, with their readily available computer opponents, have a great advantage over their predecessors in access to effortful study.
The implications for game design in general are rather obvious... and I think for those experienced in design, are pretty well understood. We use words like 'challenge', 'pacing', and 'tuning'. All of these concepts comprise what I like to call Macro Design. While this is an interesting topic, I think that Raph's book explains it reasonably well, and in any case is sort of a Design 101 topic and not well suited to my current obsession with game development.
Rather, I think this tells us a great deal about why the young medium of videogames is so vibrant. One need only to look at the advancement in computer graphics to see the effects of effortful study and chunking in action. It wasn't that long ago that whole GDC sessions were dedicated to helping people understand how to think in terms of shaders as a form of graphics parallelism. Especially for pixel shaders, this initially proved a little tough to grasp. But now even a technical moron like me knows why shaders are useful and I can readily chunk this into my necessary knowledge for vetting design ideas.
Similarly in design, through playing games and especially through making them, the best of us have managed to, for instance, "chunk" the idea of chunking. When I make a macro design chart for a game, I can very quickly look at it and discern whether the pacing will work or not. I can look at a character in a character-action game and know right away whether there's enough options available to the player to allow effortful learning throughout the course of the game (this would be the concept I sometimes call "completeness".).
In other words, every year, games
are indeed getting better. The theories behind the Expert Mind tell us not only about individual learning, they also tell us how a gain in knowledge of the group, or institutional knowledge, can quite literally
make us smarter. And indeed, especially when I look at the younger people making games, I can see that compared to what I was doing at the same age, they seem almost infinitely smarter. I believe that Sir Isaac Newton had a wonderful phrase for this, but I'll leave it to you to look up.
There are many more great things in this brief article, not least being a long-overdue attack on the notion of "talent" (they show empirically that "talent" in sport actually depends more on what month you were born, and by extension your relative age when entering youth sport programs, than on innate ability). But I'm not here to rewrite the article. Check it out at
http://www.sciam.com.