Last weekend I succumbed to temptation, and with the kids watching on in amusement I downloaded a game onto my iPad that I had been curious about for a long time—a game called “Angry Birds".
The premise of the game is that the green pigs have stolen the birds’ eggs and the birds are now attacking the pigs, who lurk in various precarious and increasingly elaborate structures made of stone, wood, boulders and other materials. The gamer’s challenge is to launch each angry bird from a sling shot and hit the pigs and their structures at just the right angles to destroy them. It is very much a strategic problem of physics to determine angles and accurately predict cause and effect—since at each of the many levels you are given only a certain number of angry birds with various capabilities.
The game boasts many sound effects—bird chirps and pig mutterings along with a high-pitched cry of “Wheeee!” from each bird as it is launched by the slingshot, sad little “oofs” and “ouches” when they fall to the side after missing a pig, and of course the smug chorus of pug grunts that occurs each time you fail in a try to get all the pigs, along with the triumphant “Woo hooooo!” from the birds when you succeed.
There are many levels and tasks to achieve, all clearly laid out and tracked so you can see your progress or lack thereof as you cycle through various strategies for getting the most pigs with the fewest birds. Clear and straightforward—unlike the messy ambiguities of life you are escaping when you play the game.
“Be sure to turn off the sound when you’re out in public like on a bus—or everybody will jump you,” advised my son as I sank further into addiction with my new toy. I found myself driven to achieve the next level and to think about the problem at each level and come back to it later to try new strategies. I stayed up past my bedtime working to get just one more level. I did research on the Internet to learn about best practices. I strove to beat my personal best. I did many of the things with Angry Birds that companies want their employees to do.
After a recent acquisition I’m now part of a very large company that, among other things, develops software applications used by companies to run their businesses. And in this company, one of whose goals is to produce “beautiful software,” the concept of gamification” comes up fairly frequently. The idea is that if the same compelling qualities that games possess could be injected into business processes and applications used by employees, those employees would become more engaged, involved, and driven to achieve the desired results, especially if they could understand exactly what they had to do and could always see their standing and progress from both a personal perspective and in comparison to others.
This is an idea I can buy—I saw it in action recently when I signed up for an exercise program at work. Each employee who signed up pledged to do 2100 minutes of exercise in 7 weeks, and record their minutes on an ongoing basis on-line. And each employee could see their personal progress, the cumulative progress for their site, and how they ranked overall in number of exercise minutes—updated every quarter hour.
Many quiet little competitions sprang up over the 7 weeks between people and sites, and I have no doubt more than a few people pushed harder and got more exercise because of this very public feedback, myself included. It was gamification in action, not only at an individual level but at a group level with the site rankings. If we could figure out how to do this for software development it would be very interesting. The agile approach, dividing the group into small scrums and measuring the productivity of each scrum over short periods of time with very publicly demoed results, can be tricky, since the challenges each scrum faces may be very different, and comparisons may negatively impact cross-scrum cooperation. Complex and creative work is not easily measured. And how do you inspire greater individual achievement without discouraging collaboration and teamwork?
Is all of life a game after all? And how do you avoid ending up with a flock of angry birds slinging themselves at throngs of obnoxiously snorting pigs? Gamify that.
4 comments:
I think I must be one of the few persons on the planet who don't respond well to games, gaming, "gamification." In fact, I have begun to think that competition is THE problem of humanity. Yes, it's "natural." Yes, it can bring out the "best in us." But it can also bring out the worst. It does in me. After a lot of self-analysis, I've come to conclude that for me, competition is not healthy. At least not competition with others. I still can compete with myself and (for the most part) that is healthy. But introduce a whiff of competition against other people and I am instantly someone else, and someone I don't like.
Interestingly enough, I just now see this being tied to something else I wrote to a friend this week: "Basically, I've come to the conclusion that I have no 'moderation gene.' Food, booze, whatever, my only control seems to be 'on' and 'off.'" And that goes for competition, too. I don't think I have the ability to "just" compete. My choices are to either "go for the throat" or "walk away." I've learned to walk away.
That's on the small scale. On the large scale, "tribalism" in various forms is THE problem facing humanity. And tribalism is based on and amplified by competition. We are taught in various places and by various philosophies that cooperation is a goal, that collaboration is a good thing. And people then point to games, sports, contests as being a way to increase those traits. Which is true and not true at the same time. Because it causes cooperation and collaboration within the team, perhaps, at the expense of the other team(s). We figure it out "in the small," but then that causes us to not be able to apply it on a broad basis. It magnifies the feelings of life being a zero-sum game. For me/us to win, you must lose.
And I don't like that. I don't like it as a feeling within myself. I don't like it as a philosophy for living.
Just me, I know. I make a poor American because of it, that's for sure.
Actually, you're my kind of American. It's highly refreshing to hear healthy questioning of competition and its ultimate value, especially from a man, to be honest. And recognizing a problem is always the first step toward solving it.
However, Petronius said, "Moderation in all things, including moderation." I do believe that some degree of competition is an important ingredient for innovation and creativity.
Friendly competition can be...fun. And fun is good. Like all things, competition can get out of hand, so we all look for a balance: cooperatition.
Lynn,
Like I said, I recognize the problem is me. Recently I had a class at school on conflict. One of the most interesting "a-ha!" moments for me was learning that conflict exists even if there is only the perception of conflict (that's not too surprising), and even if only one side perceives conflict. THAT got me thinking, and recognizing how often I feel there is conflict in a situation, when in fact there is only ME thinking the situation is conflicted.
And I think that's related to this. Like I said, I have a hard time moderating certain behaviors. Competitiveness is one of those behaviors. My "moderation" is to basically avoid most competitive situations, because I just can't deal with them healthily, for me or the others involved. I become "an ass" when I'm competing. My problem, my perception, to be sure, but it exists nonetheless.
And as with SO MANY things in my life, makes me feel that much more the outsider. Sigh.
As follow up, here is an excellent article on the pros and cons of games like "Angry Birds.".
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/04/08/magazine/angry-birds-farmville-and-other-hyperaddictive-stupid-games.html?pagewanted=all
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