Let's Justify Ourselves: A Case for the Let's Play

As I mentioned in my first post to this blog, I enjoy Let's Plays.  Generally, I enjoy watching them as well as making them.  And I do so with a keen awareness that what I'm doing is a horrifying waste of time.

Even though I've played video games for over twenty years (or maybe BECAUSE I have), I'll always be skeptical about the supposed benefits they provide to the player.  Some people will practically bang the table with their shoe, Nikita Khrushchev style, if there's so much as an eyebrow raised about the worthiness of gaming: "They heighten critical reasoning and hone our fine motor skills!  I've made lasting friendships through gaming!  They keep me from killing again!"

These considerations were an afterthought to designers up until the very recent past.  Not that I'm an expert, but I feel confident enough in my own experiences to say that there are usually better activities if one wants to improve oneself in almost any area aside from being a better gamer.  From that standpoint, I can't help but conclude that games are largely a waste of time, for whatever that's worth.  Watching other people play them as they commentate the action is a chocolatey layer of wastefulness atop the fluffy goodness that is gaming itself.  I have absolutely no problem with any of this.  Gaming is about that amorphous blob we call fun.  I try to have fun playing the games that I play, and I get a kick out of seeing other people enjoy games that I also enjoy.

If you've somehow come across this blog and you're not into games, and this whole rationale befuddles and angers you, take heart!  There are plenty of ridiculous analogies to be found in your world too.  Let's take a look at another huge waste of time: cooking food.  Food guru Michael Pollan wrote an excellent article for New York Times Magazine that shows just how much Americans seem to think that cooking is a huge timesink.  We've managed to cut our time in the kitchen in half since the middle of the last century, down to less than a half hour.  But despite our apparent disinterest in the task itself, we're watching more and more television about cooking.  Pollan asks, "how is it that we are so eager to watch other people browning beef cubes on screen but so much less eager to brown them ourselves?"

Damned if I know, but I'll hazard a guess.  Although this situation differs from what's going on with gaming and Let's Plays (both appear to be growing commitments for us), I think it offers a vital means of understanding why anyone would even watch a Let's Play.  More than just cooking shows, think of all the craft shows, fishing shows, travel shows, and perhaps most importantly of all, think of how many times you've watched the gentle brushstrokes of Bob Ross.  For some ridiculous reason, we love to watch.  We can't help observe people doing things that we appreciate or that intrigue us.  We'll observe them even at the expense of actually doing them.

It turns out that the brain absolutely craves learning.  When we learn something, whether it's how to play a concerto or the combo for a sweet new move in Street Fighter, neurotransmitters (including dopamine) fire off inside of our heads.  We actually get a bit of a high off of learning.  We're so hopelessly addicted that the areas involved with learning are still active while we sleep, like a tweaker picking scabs.  So craven is our brain for the acquisition of knowledge that we don't care if it comes our way experientially or observationally.  Sloppy seconds are more than enough for us to get a boost.

It feels silly to talk about the act of watching another person talk about a video game they're playing.  But at its core, a Let's Play ends up being about sharing experience.  That's a deeply human activity, one that is exceedingly rare among animals.  It's our hallmark trait.  We communicate elaborate concepts to one another as a means of survival.  It's no wonder that our bodies have evolved to give us rewards for teaching and learning, no matter how silly the concept may be.

And yes, I firmly believe Let's Plays are silly.  But so is most TV.  What makes a Let's Play any less legitimate than watching someone land a trophy fish that they're just going to throw back?  And I'm speaking as a fisherman as well as a Let's Player here.  There's no material use in catching a fish only to throw it back; it's actually kind of an asshole move in my book.  How many millions of people plant their ass on their couch and watch fish abuse, or watch Guy Fieri try to dupe us into thinking that every single thing he eats is orgasmically delicious?  How many times have you watched The Woodwright's Shop or another craft show and thought, "man, I'd love to be able to make a snuff box like that, but... effort... ugh."

All of the values assigned to these activities are culturally ascribed.  That's not to say they're meaningless, but it certainly means they're not set in stone.  The ways in which we waste our time have changed over the centuries thanks to advances in technology and we've changed our opinions to suit them.  Let's Plays are just another progression in our long quest to fritter away our days.  You don't have to enjoy them personally, but I do think that their existence shouldn't be seen as an aberration.