I do appreciate your test cases and feel I’ve adequately addressed them. A second definition of play could specifically describe participation in a game. Another could describe participation in organized sports for money. Another could describe gambling. Another could describe interacting with members of the opposite sex under false pretenses in hopes of having sexual intercourse.

None of those activities are directly addressed by my definition of play. And, I feel, they don’t really need to be.

Think of game as something that modifies play. It’s a play structure. Simply by participating in the communication, you are playing–regardless of intent. But it’s possibly a formalized, and shallow, version of play that does not need to be addressed by my definition, only by the conversation surrounding it (which is what you’re helping me do, so thank you).

So, Dexter. Sure, serial killers could be said to engage in play. But I somehow feel that the psychological illness that drives them trumps the “primary goal” concept of my definition.

Hmm. I am trying to create problematic test cases against which to measure your definitions, true. One of my examples referenced a game – something we all recognize as play – while the other (the puppies) didn’t. For that latter example, what I’m hearing is that whether or not it qualifies as “play” comes down to the presence or absence of specific emotion. Back to the definition:

“Play is any pastime with a primary goal of self-guided exploration of possibility within a bounded space.”

Where is emotion represented in that definition? Is an emotional component required for a pastime to be play, even if it meets all other stated conditions? Might this be “fun” elbowing its way into the conversation?

In the case of the puppy example, I was thinking of typical serial killer, at least as represented in pop culture. Hannibal Lecter, or Dexter Morgan from “Dexter.” These character might well engage in “play” that would be unthinkable for the rest of us.

For what it’s worth, I’m not trying to step outside of your framework or extend your definitions beyond what I believe they’re intended to represent. I just feel that there’s a certain something implied but unexpressed, and I’m trying to suss it out. With playfulness, if possible.

As you suggest, it is the individual who sets out to explore sets the goal of play. This is play in its pure state–free of the definition of game.

I think it’s important to recognize that I am not attempting to create a universally applicable definition for play and all its uses. So if you choose to focus on play as the act of participating in a game, and then set emotional conditions that negate the meaning of play I am actually defining, then of course it all is going to seem a bit wrong.

But what I find interesting is that the condition you’re describing actually provides the framework for a great discussion about my Participatory Storytelling framework. You see, I view games (all games, not just video games) as a narrative medium and furthermore, as a direct communication between designer and audience. The PS framework I’m building is meant to explore this idea in depth.

If we look at my definition of game, “a set of rules and/or conditions, established by a community, which serve as a bounded space for play,” as well as the new one for play, “any pastime with a primary goal of self-guided exploration of possibility within a bounded space.”

We see that the “bored and playing solitaire” situation involves a somewhat ineffective communication among the community involved (designer and lone player) and that the player is not actively engaged in the communication. So play is happening, on some level, because the game designer intends it–not because the player does. It still fits, sort of, but is not reflective of an ideal situation. This is unfortunate and it’s too bad the designer of solitaire can’t be there to modify the experience on the fly for the player.

As for the neutering puppies example… I’m sure we could get into a discussion about the hypothetical neutering party’s true emotional intent and the needs that are being served by this activity. I’d likely argue that he’s assuaging some unidentified fear or hurt and suggest that invalidated the activity as play. You could then argue that, no, he was really truly just playful. I’d say that’s highly improbable. You could say that it was hypothetically possible. I could…

But let’s skip that and agree that you just might be splitting hairs. (-_0)

But returning to definitions,

“Play is any pastime with a primary goal of self-guided exploration of possibility within a bounded space.”

…who sets the goal? The community? The same self that’s doing the self-guiding? If two actors engage in the same activity but with different goals – playing solitaire for the experience of solitaire vs. playing it to kill time – is one activity considered play and the other not?

Or to flip that, can the actor’s goals turn any activity into play, in the same way that your “kick the can” example is a form of self-generated play? If, for example, some disturbed individual enjoyed neutering puppies as a “pastime of self-guided exploration,” would that make it play? Presumably for the veterinarian who performs the same actions for different reasons, it’s not play at all.

Or am I hopelessly splitting hairs?

Almost as if game modifies play, transforming it into the act of manipulating the rules and conditions of the bounded space. But I think you’d probably agree that someone who “plays” a game they don’t enjoy with the goal of passing the time is not approaching the activity with a sense of playfulness.

Specifically,”the self-guided exploration of possibility within a bounded space” would seem to cover lots of things that I wouldn’t normally consider play, like:

- planning a bank robbery
- decorating a room
- escaping from a WWII POW camp
- carving a turkey
- searching the apartment for my car keys

What all of these have in common is that, while they may be self-guided, they’re all aimed at achieving a purpose extrinsic to the activity itself. I won’t go so far as to say play is purposeless, but it does seem to be an activity taken at least in part for its own value, aside from any additional benefits (e.g. establishing new friendships, improving physical fitness, etc.).

I think your last comment about “primary goal” is starting to address this issue. But then what about when I play solitaire primarily to kill time, even if I hate playing solitaire? Or if I play poker in order to win money? If financial gain is my primary goal, am I no longer “playing” poker but “doing” poker or “performing” poker?

If the player has “goals” that exist outside the bounded space of play but are achieved through it, how can you best reconcile that in your definition?

Play is the self-guided exploration of possibility within a bounded space.

Given TGC follow up statements in IRC to his comment here, I’m considered altering it slightly to something like this:

Play is any pastime with a primary goal of self-guided exploration of possibility within a bounded space.

I guess I skimmed your post or I’m losing my mind or both. You do define “play”.

Before I read this post, I had a definition in mind which, it turns out, was only a few words off from yours.

“An agreed-upon framework within which to play.”

But it feels like an uncertainty-principle sort of a thing. The more confident I am of what a “game” is, the harder it is to nail down exactly what “play” means.

Do you have a working definition built in to your current model?

And arguments help me clarify and strengthen my definitions, so please keep it up!

You simplify the original by saying you don’t need to tag challenge as this is an aesthetic response. Well, why stop there? You don’t need “aesthetic” as this is implied by “response”. And honestly, if it interacts with the player of course it produces a response. So that boils down to just “interactive software”. :p

So is a word processor a game? >:)

There’s a reason why Wittgenstein uses “game” as his example of a family resemblance category. No single definition will ever suffice for ‘game’ without some source of objection, and almost all objections will depend upon people’s prior beliefs about what a “game is” (such as this ludicrous idea that challenge is central to games, and thus something devoid of challenge cannot be a game).

I suggest: pick your definition, stick with it, respect other people’s definitions, and leave it at that.

Unless, of course, you happen to enjoy the game of arguing about definitions… in which case, have fun! I’m off to do something productive instead.

Toodles!

Game is a set of rules and/or conditions established by a community and intended as a bounded space for play.

That is more clear, isn’t it?

Additionally, I’d also argue that it is completely possible to explore the bounded space of the law and have it be play. I did quite a bit of that in high school myself.

I’m also thinking that a lot of the specifics of involving challenge, goals, even the use of video display, etc, don’t belong in a definition at all, but ought to only be discussed within the context of the history of design.

It seems to me that the tricky thing about definitions is that they should not be unnecessarily limiting. Regardless, it certainly bears some more cogitation and I appreciate you getting this particular ball rolling. Your post came along at just the right time!

@Marcus: I based my definition of video games on Scott McCloud’s definition of comics from “Understanding Comics.” In the book he defines letters as static images, which can be arranged into words. By that definition (which is debatable), text adventures are included. It certainly wasn’t my intention to exclude them.

As for the inclusion of community, I’m going to seek to clarify your point and then address that clarification. Please let me know if you meant something other than I’m inferring.

The type of solo game you’re referring to are self-generated, self-enacted activities created out of a need to inject play into an otherwise mundane experience. Let’s say that Kick the Can is such an activity, as it certainly was before the cultural weight of repetition and shared experience inserted an idea of a standardized rule sets for the activity into our collective unconscious and thereby turning it into a game.

A youth is walking aimlessly and sees a can in the gutter. “Let’s see how many times I can kick this can without it going into the street, up on the sidewalk, or into a sewer drain,” she thinks and proceeds to kick the can, counting each kick as she goes.

My contention is that this is not a game. This is a form of play coupled with a conscious exploration of the bounded space.

However, the very moment this youth makes it to a playground and brags of her accomplishment to her peers, it does become a game. This is because any number of her peers may question her counting, the rules she decided on, or her right to crow over being the best at something they haven’t yet tried.

Is that the track you were on? Because if you’re referring to solitaire games, there’s a community agreement between the designer(s) and the player.