I suppose I should stop being surprised by how often the internal logic of games seems to apply wholesale to some aspect of real life. Games, after all, tend to be based on “real life” scenarios, and, as many evolutionary biologists argue, humans are hardwired to play games in order to prepare for danger in the real world. From Hide and Seek to World of Warcraft, it’s pretty easy to see how fantasy settings can be used to mentally and sometimes physically prepare us to survive when calamity strikes.
So who should be surprised that LA’s Great ShakeOut, the largest earthquake drill in history, includes a massively multiplayer online game called After Shock? Based upon a scenario developed by the U.S. Geological Service (who knew scientists could be gripping storytellers?) After Shock provides citizens with an incentive to connect with their community and prepare for an earthquake. While a game like World of Warcraft encourages players to earn experience points by gathering virtual resources to succeed in virtual quests, a game like After Shock eliminates one dimension of the virtual frame of the game by giving points for real-world resource gathering.
Documenting everything is essential – otherwise how do you prove to other game players that you gathered emergency water, or made improvements to your home? The beneficial side-effect of all this data collection is that the game server becomes a permanent online resource for students, citizens and experts collecting information about earthquakes in Southern California.
Alternate reality games, as these simulations are often called, typically feature real-world events – interactive gameplay that reaches beyond the screen. After Shock will include “physical site spectacles,” public installations that allow gameplayers to craft collaborative solutions to the crises that develop in the wake of an earthquake. And the whole thing will be launched at the ShakeOut Rally, a real-world multimedia event at Nokia Plaza in downtown L.A on November 14.
Unfortunately for public health officials, prevention is not as sexy as disaster. It can be hard to focus on prevention messages in entertainment media, as we’ve found time and again with our health work in the TV industry. Who wants a shot of someone packing up a first aid kit when they could instead focus on a child caught in the rubble of an earthquake-shattered home? There’s no question which scene is more visually compelling. The main point of prevention, after all, is to keep drama (disaster, destruction, death) at bay, to minimize the chances that something exciting will happen to you. Prevention should produce boredom, not excitement.
But interactive media can alter this equation. The format of a game actually dovetails nicely with the promotion of preventative action. Gaming is about surviving, and most games devote some portion of gameplay to the acquisition of resources that will allow a player to survive to the end. Many online multiplayer games are notorious for devoting entirely too much gameplay time to logistical reinforcement (do you have enough food and strength rations to battle the orc?). This might be described as one of the distinguishing factors between serious and casual games: serious games require long-term strategies for survival; casual games are about passing the time enjoyably. Certainly it is entirely possible to go overboard, but the fact that resource management is a typical feature in serious games makes it all the more plausible to develop a prevention-oriented game that fits with players expectations about “serious” game play.
The best alternate reality games tread the fine line between representation and reality, utilizing the best of both worlds for socially constructive purposes. Humans have an innate concern about powerful representations taking over reality – this is the work of demagogues and propagandists. The theme of simulation overtaking reality is a hallmark of Jean Beaudrillard’s work and it calls to mind the Borges short story in which the leaders of an Empire become so obsessed with mapping their domain that the map becomes the size of the Empire. In their drive to own and know the land, their map begins to obscure it, and due to its unwieldy size, it no longer serves the purpose of a useful representation. One lesson to be taken from this story is that stories and games don’t need to dovetail seamlessly with reality in order to be effective or enjoyable. In fact, a stylistic gap between the two can make the end product a more effective communicative tool. So, while people may scoff
at the notion of an online game having any real effect on a person’s chances of survival after a catastrophic earthquake, I think they’re ignoring the tremendous power of artifice and representation. In the case of earthquake preparedness, citizens don’t win any kudos for stocking their garage with fresh water, canned food and batteries – but in the After Shock game environment, they do.
The only thing that could make this game more compelling – especially to someone living in Southern California – is if we actually have an earthquake on the San Andreas fault at 10am on November 13, 2008. Let’s hope not.


