It’s no secret that video games are intended to be fun, but to relegate the medium to simple entertainment would be naïve. As developers become more willing to experiment with the pallet of available design tools, video games have in turn become more capable of assuming a didactic, instructive tone. In short, we’re learning a lot about ourselves and each other by simply pressing start. And with so many millions of kids and young adults surrendering their afternoons to Skyrim, Fallout 3 and Star Wars: The Old Republic, it would be folly to ignore the implications of those lessons.
This brings me to my point: Morality. While I celebrate the willingness of Bethesda, BioWare and their peers to include a moral angle in their games, what we’re left with is no more than an infantilized version of ethics. In fact, most developers have latched onto a philosophical concept that the discipline has rejected since the Enlightenment era: Normative ethics. This paradigm asserts that morality is universal and that any choice can be considered unanimously right or wrong. Since Kant published his Metaphysics of Morals, we’ve come to understand that this isn't the case at all.
The reason great works of fiction like The Merchant of Venice or Lord of the Flies succeed as parables is because they show that one moral outlook is by no means more correct than any another. In another sense, these master pieces rely on ethical relativity. Particularly under the specter of war (or a post-apocalyptic landscape), the objectivity of ethics becomes more and more elusive. I can’t fault Bethesda for their design choices—the Karma Meter is the type straightforward and fun mechanic that gamers find appealing. But by dumbing down the concept of morality, the developer has missed a ripe opportunity to teach us about virtue.
In this short essay, I’ll endeavor to explore the varying philosophical schools on the subject of ethics and how best they may be applied to game design.
Deontology
The moral paradigm most accepted by game designers thus far has been deontology, which judges the ‘moralness’ of an action according to its adherence to rules. It’s simple, uncomplicated and leaves little room for debate. If the rules of the Wasteland dictate that murdering a noncombatant is wrong than the player will be chastised whenever he kills an innocent salesman in Fallout: New Vegas. It makes sense, right? Well, the logic only follows on the proviso that God or some other omnipotent being (i.e. the developer) is judging the player. If, on the other hand, the game leads you to believe that you’re a free agent, the mechanic reveals its flaws immediately. After all, in a world rendered barbaric by nuclear war, who has the authority to establish universal laws?
Deontological ethics let the designers take a shortcut by inscribing a list of arbitrary moral commandments into the game’s code. Unless the parameters of a certain mission dictate otherwise, murder is bad; theft is bad; violence is bad.
Mass Effect, Fallout and their ilk are guilty of this simplification. In all of these series, choices are judged according to an unalterable list of principals. The results are typically displayed on a sliding moral scale, whose very nature ignores the player’s beliefs. Maybe you’re playing as an amoral nihilist, in which case killing a Salarian informant doesn’t strike you as all too bad. Perhaps you subscribe to a utilitarian worldview, which allows you to shirk off the murder of 10 innocent people in the name of saving the Citadel’s entire population. These factors aren't considered in BioWare’s black and white world, though they ought to.
Virtue Ethics
Although Dragon Age 2 has drawn criticism for its more casual mechanics, the series has taken monumental, if subtle strides towards building a complex world that shadows most modern RPGs. In lieu of an overarching moral framework, BioWare unconsciously drew inspiration from the work of Aristotle (most notably, the Nicomachean Ethics) in order to create moral ambiguity.
In the Dragon Age franchise, ruthlessly insulting a Kirkwall blacksmith won't necessarily brand your character as evil. Instead, morally actionable decisions will prompt individual responses from your companions, who each have separate views and beliefs. So, while Anders may find your remarks venomous and uncalled for, Isabella might find the insult romantic!
This mechanic genuinely mirrors Aristotle's school of thought, which measures the morality of decisions based on intentions, personal belief and group benefit. Indeed, the entire companion approval system reflects the effects of morality in real life with a degree of fidelity I rarely witness.
The implementation of virtue ethics, while laudable, only takes us partly down the path toward true moral fidelity. In order to earnestly reflect how ethics play out in the real world, we not only have to account for ethical subjectivity but for the scale of time.
Consequentialism
There's a reason why Donald Tusk, Poland's Prime Minister, handed President Obama a copy of The Witcher 2 during his May 2011 visit to the country–and it certainly wasn't because of the game's salacious nudity. The Witcher 2 towers above other role-playing games of its generation because of the unashamed maturity with which it approaches each narrative theme, whether it's sexuality or morality.
G.E.M. Anscombe first coined the term 'consequentialism' in a 1958 treatise which underscores the shortcomings of moral theories proposed by Mill and Sidgwick. Anscombe explains that the morality of a choice can only be determined after its consequences have been observed and measured.
To provide some background, The Witcher 2 thrusts players into a racially-divided and xenophobic world wherein elves are senselessly marginalized and deemed naturally inferior. Throughout the narrative, we’re asked to make the type of nebulous value judgments that will leave you pacing around your desk.
The effects of in-game actions are almost imperceptible in the short-term, and so players are forced to wait until the smoke clears before witnessing the ultimate outcome. Just as in real life, the effects of choices can be unintentionally disastrous or rather straightforward, but they never feel arbitrary. In all, developer CD Projekt RED makes it clear that the moral rectitude of a choice won't make itself evident until all the consequences have played out.
In my experience, The Witcher 2 presents what can be considered the most thorough exploration of morality through gaming. Beliefs are relative, informed by robust philosophies and are regularly used to justify horrific deeds. In this comprehensive role-player, choice may be a selling point, but it comes with the costly price of moral responsibility. Your character’s personal ethics have social externalities that stretch far beyond the visible landscape. In short, this is how it’s done!
Despite what your parents and what pop culture may lead you to believe, morality is never a cut and dry affair. If we're to minimize harm in our world, we have to diligently explore what's right and wrong with a willingness to adjust and amend our beliefs.
Whether developers choose to face reality or not, their video games are partly responsible for inculcating today's youth with a sense of ethics. And although development budgets, fun factor and social context all play a factor in shaping a game's moral mechanics, it's imperative that we take a long look at how best to communicate these lessons to players.
As someone who has studied philosophy academically and in his free time, it fills me with joy to see the industry tackle this monumental subject. But again, making a game fun and leaving an intellectual impression on the audience is a balancing act that few developers have the dexterity to master. But remember, those two objectives are by no means mutually exclusive.