Friday, November 12, 2010

Multiplayer Moments 1

bobliu123 and Hoxieboy are discussing bots. Bots copy and paste sections of the map by placing brown and red mushrooms as  markers.

Hoxieboy uses his bot to erect an enormous Danish flag. Hoxieboy is from Idaho. Hoxieboy has to leave because his "mom is being mean."

We build a double rainbow all the way around the map. Griefers invade and destroy, our bots rebuild.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

The Production of New Babylon



Unlike the "Habbos" of Habbo Hotel or the "Residents" of Second Life, the blocky avatars in Minecraft's worlds do not, as of yet, have an official name which identifies them as a collective. Perhaps it is best to think of them as a species, and as such they should be given an appropriately scientific name. The name given to humans, Homo sapiens, denotes us as "wise" creatures, and though the inhabitants of Minecraft may be intelligent, they exhibit more specific behaviors that set them apart from humanity as a whole. A central element of the game is a challenge of construction; the players are definitively builders and makers. This suggests the title Homo faber– "Man the builder." But as creatures of a game-space, the avatars also signify beings at play; Dutch cultural theorist Johan Huizinga is famous for dubbing such creatures "Homo Ludens" to emphasize play as an important element of culture. While a collective name may remain elusive, perhaps the culture of Minecraft and its blend of playful and productive behavior can provide for reflection on these themes.

New Babylon (via)
Homo Ludens is a relevant "species" to study as it forms the population of New Babylon, a utopian world imagined by Dutch artist Constant Nieuwenhuis. Minecraft is New Babylon in so many ways, but in its similarity it also offers a poignant critique of New Babylon's social foundation.

New Babylon is founded upon the belief that automation of the means of production will eventually elliminate the "utilitarian" need for labor; the productive role of Homo Faber would be rendered obsolete via technology, leaving Homo Ludens free to create without bounds:
"As a way of life Homo Ludens will demand, firstly, that he responds to his need for playing, for adventure, for mobility, as well as all the conditions that facilitate the free creation of his own life. Until then, the principle activity of man had been the exploration of his natural surroundings. Homo Ludens himself will seek to transform, to recreate, those surroundings, that world, according to his new needs. The exploration and creation of the environment will them happen to coincide because, in creating his domain to explore, Homo Ludens will apply himself to exploring his own creation. Thus we will be present at an uninterrupted process of creation and re-creation, sustained by a generalized creativity that is manifested in all domains of activity."(source)
Inside New Babylon, showing moveable elements. (via)
Minecraft is exactly this: a game of exploration that moves from exploring the world as it is, to exploring the world being constantly created and re-created by its inhabitants. Constant chooses "walls, floors, terminals, bridges, etc." as the modules that can be reconfigured within his superstructure; in Minecraft every single block in the world (sand, water, stone, or wood, etc.) can be removed from its place, transported, and reinstalled to build up something new. But while much time can be spent shuffling blocks from place to place, an additional mechanism of reconfiguration is provided through the "crafting" interface.

Minecraft's crafting interface.
Crafting in Minecraft is a form of productive work that turns naturally occurring resource blocks into tools, supplies, and building materials of utilitarian or decorative value. In the most recent releases of the game, resource acquisition and crafting consume vast amounts of time while playing the game. There is, of course, no technical reason that a player must craft new blocks; the computer that runs the game is a form of programmable automated system that could simply provide unlimited amounts of materials. In fact, this is how the original version of Minecraft (now called "Classic") functioned. But gamers want more than this. Notch puts it best:
"Free building mode is fine and dandy, but for many people it will ultimately become boring once you've got it figured out. It's like playing a first person shooter in god mode, or giving yourself infinite funds in a strategy game.. a lack of challenge kills the fun." (source)
This seems like an obvious principle in game design, but why isn't it thought of the same way in urban design? With automated plants churning away in the underground providing for all the needs of the people above, the Homo Ludens of New Babylon are liable to get bored moving around walls and stairs all day. Constant's vision was, in his words, the "Marxist kingdom of freedom," so he might be appeased by the suggestion that challenge can come from more playful sources than a capitalist system of wage labor. The new society growing within Minecraft doesn't see automation as a tool to "free" people from productive work. Instead, automation manifests as a body of computational tools ("the game") which enable people to create through play. Gameplay is the process that reconciles Homo Faber with Homo Ludens; players delight in the act of creating useful things and sharing them with the larger community.



There are a number of results for "Minecraft factory" on YouTube that show how players have exploited quirks in the game to automate the production of certain building elements. The factories are less remarkable for their utility than for demonstrating how much players enjoy being clever play-producers.


I need to reiterate the situation in which I first learned of Minecraft because I believe it illustrates this point excellently: In the Ruhrgebiet, a region built on a working class identitiy and deeply entrenched in labor politics, one of the first generations for whom labor has been rendered irrelevant through automation chooses to express a postindustrial fantasy via game play of simulated mining, the very pursuit their parents and grandparents toiled and died for. And look where Constant imagined his vision spreading:


Where are the spaces for playful production in cities, either in visionary utopias or the real urban centers of today? What is their potential? What is the potential for games to be the virtual site of real design and production for an urbanizing world?