If you ask a game designer, “What makes a game, a game?” — many will answer with some version of the following: “If there’s a win state, it’s a game.” And then you look at those activities that have a traditional win states and your list quickly bulges with the usual: chess, WoW, baseball, tic-tac-toe, Angry Birds — the list of games is endless.
But then it’s easy to expand the list to other less traditional game activities that still possess a win state: political elections, educational grading systems (“I’m in the top quintile!”), eBay bidding, war, dangerous medical procedures “Patient X beat the odds!,” foundation granting processes (“We won the grant!”), the human race (well there are always winners and losers in a race), and even love (“I am going to win her heart!”).
For better or worse, that parsing process has helped to fuel the proliferation of gamification. Is it that I reside in West Coast Technoville or because we’re in this “space” — but it seems every day we hear the rallying cry of Gamification from some of the most unexpected quarters. (I’d list some here, but even the most preposterous in conjunction with our tool makes some darn good sense). Alongside this rush to gaming are the accessories and features that come with it, these new, shiny tokens of achievement: badges. New badging systems are cropping up like wildfire. Some from traditional sources, like the scouting community which has always proudly worn their embroidered emblems on their ubiquitous sashes. Other badges are attached to new systems and games in the digital media learning arena with a whole new set of graphics, titles and certifications — but all meant to be “worn” on virtual sashes over swelling digital chests.
With the Nuvana MVP, our users can import whatever badging system they prefer — or create their own, or use our default badge set. That’s what certain communities need and demand.
But at Nuvana, we think it’s important to remember that there is a significant population of “active engagers” (our sometimes-used, less trivializing term for “gamers”) that actually hate badges and scores. And that’s putting it mildly. The ostentatious display of achievement only serves a certain kind of player. The quest for badges and subsequent community admiration is in many cases, a turnoff to innovators, artists, out-of-box thinkers, and geniuses. It’s also a turnoff to kids with already-low self-esteem who are one gold star-less day of becoming dropouts. Do we really think that trading a letter grade for a badge or a snazzy score because a school is suddenly “gamified” is going to make a difference to that disengaged teen sitting in the back of the class with the hood over his head?
Marlon Brando and Woody Allen’s refusal to attend the Academy Awards to receive Oscars is legendary. The greatest golfer of all time, Bobby Jones, the only man to win the Grand Slam, retired at 28, thoroughly uninspired by tournament play and the thought of winning more trophies. Jean-Paul Sartre not only declined a membership to the Legion of Honor, he also refused the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1964 citing it went against his philosophy of how a true writer would behave.
What we strive for at Nuvana is to create games and tools that fit the unique ideals, principles and sensibilities of the organization that adopts it — and even more important, for the community it wants to engage. You want a competitive game with high scores and badges? Great, the Nuvana MVP can serve you. And you over there — you want a tool that provides a thoughtful, collaborative journey without scores or medals? Well, the Nuvana MVP works just as well for you too.
A deeper question might be, what does your community think a win looks like?
What we’ve realized over the years is that there is no one “win state.” Belief in the One Win State creates too many losers. The best definition of win state is derived through personal and/or institutional actions and behavior, and that individual’s or culture’s sense of achievement and quality.
I had the good fortune to go to an amazing high school that both my children were able to attend as well which embraced a controversial “no grade” policy. Really. You wrote papers, took tests — but there was never a letter or number stamped on the result. Instead, assessment was a rich and involved process of self-evaluation mixed with detailed teacher commenting connected to an ever-present rubric. The result? There were no A-students. There weren’t even D-students. At least, they weren’t easily identified. Still, every student knew where they stood — and the path they needed to follow. This unique school fostered a culture of life-long learners who did not look to others for judgement and glorification, who were driven by a passion for inquiry. A momentary failure was only an experience that deepened wisdom. A so-called “success” was only a step on a path with many forks.
Rudyard Kipling’s words over the door to center court to Wimbledon are well known: “If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, And treat those two impostors just the same…” Understanding those two lines will lead to a higher understanding of Win State, without doubt. But do you know how Mr. Kipling’s poem ends?
“…If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!”
Totally committed action and relentless passionate engagement is the ultimate win state. That’s why we at Nuvana believe…the New Win = greater good in the real world.
Any way we can get to that state, whether through a game or a collective journey where everyone is a winner — well, that’s our goal.