Stuck in the game?

Sometimes kids get stuck when they’re playing a game. Sometimes they quit the game entirely. It can be hard witnessing your kid struggle playing a game.

But…

Kids getting stuck in games isn’t a problem to fix. Getting stuck is most of what games are. The real question is whether your kid is stuck and still learning, or stuck and just drowning.

In the 1970s, psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi started studying the moments when people get so absorbed in something that they lose track of time. Rock climbers, chess players, surgeons, painters. Mihaly called it flow.

When the challenge is greater than than your skill, you get anxious. When your skill is greater than the challenge, you get bored. Flow lives in the narrow channel in between. Games aim to live in that space.

Kids get better at playing games. They become more skilled. Eventually they’ll play more difficult games. They’ll play “harder” games. If they don’t, the fun in playing disappears. It’s part of the reason why good games often feel quite challenging on purpose. Game designers spend years tuning that curve.

So if your kid is claiming a game is hard, that’s understandable. If they’re claiming it’s hard and they’re not getting better at it, then that’s a problem.

Next time your kid is “stuck on” something in a game, take a few minutes and observe them playing.

Good stuck looks like: they’re leaning in, they’re trying new approaches to the challenge, they’re getting a little further each time. They might still groan about it, but they reach for the restart button without hesitation. I personally talk to the game when I’m in this position. I’m literally speaking out loud and yelling at the game, and vocalizing my thoughts in real time. Kids will often do this too.

Bad stuck looks like: dying at the exact same spot each time, the exact same way, over and over. They’re probably mashing the controllers buttons without care. They might be crying. They might be saying things like, “I’m not good enough” or “I’m just bad at this.” Or…perhaps…they’re totally silent, and walking away.

Good stuck is your kid building something positively. Bad stuck is your kid convincing themselves they’re incapable (which you know is untrue).

In 2013, researchers at Florida State gave people anagrams and riddles. Some of them were impossible to solve. Researchers quietly timed how long people kept trying. Frequent video game players spent significantly longer on the unsolvable problems than people who rarely played video games.

I’m not saying games make people more persistent (though I can assure you they have made me more persistent 😆 ). I’m just pointing out the correlation. Maybe persistent people just like video games? But it lines up with what anyone who’s ever beaten a hard game knows: games teach you that failing is okay and normal, and that trying again is what it’s all about.

Games will only teach that to your kid if they are good stuck. They need to see and feel that they’re progressing, even if it’s hard.

In 1975, psychologists David Wood and David Middleton watched mothers help their kids build tricky block puzzles (4 year olds I believe they were). The moms who helped their kids most tended to follow one rule: they got specific with their kids when they struggled, and they backed off when they didn’t struggle. Not the most help, not the least help. The right amount of help, moment to moment.

That’s exactly how to approach a kid who’s struggling with a game.

👆 If at any rung in that ladder you see your kid beginning to progress again, back off.

Celeste is an amazingly difficult game about climbing a mountain. I absolutely adore the game for many reasons. Among those is because it also has an Assist Mode that lets you slow the game down or make yourself invincible. When you turn it on, the game says to you, “Celeste is intended to be a challenging and rewarding experience. If the default game proves inaccessible to you, we hope that you can still find that experience with Assist Mode.”

That’s a designer saying the experience matters more than the difficulty number. I really appreciate that. And I appreciate the ability to turn it on and off at whatever time.

Nintendo has been doing this type of thing for years. I remember in New Super Mario Bros Wii (2009), you would die eight times on a level and a block would pop up letting Luigi play it for you and show you the way. You can grab control back at any time. This is just one example.

The original Resident Evil 4 is widely reported to quietly get easier when you’re struggling and harder when you’re cruising through it. I’m honestly unsure if that is a fact, but it wouldn’t surprise me if so. Capcom (the makers of RE4) never officially confirmed this difficulty mechanism (to my knowledge), but players have been documenting it for years, and completing the game because of it.

So the difficulty your kid is “supposed” to play on is often a lot more flexible than it looks. Assist modes, easy modes, and accessibility settings are tools. They’re not cheats. Using them isn’t giving up. So subject your kids to them. Have them take full advantage. It’s the easiest way to help alleviate players’ struggles in games.

The goal of games isn’t just for players to beat them. It’s for players to learn what it feels like to get a little closer, get a little better, and want to try one more time until they accomplish what it is the game sets them up to accomplish. Game designers don’t want to make games too hard. They don’t want to drive players away. They seek to make experiences that players deeply enjoy. Overcoming struggle makes for immense joy. It’s a fine line in game design.

Hit reply and tell me: what’s the game you never beat as a kid? I had so, so many, but one classic that stands out to me is Contra. I’ve since beaten it. Only 2 years ago 🙂

Thanks for pressing pause with me.

– Patrick