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| A scene from From Software's Dark Souls II. |
“Hand-holding” is the anathema of modern game design, viewed by many as the ball to which creative, risk-taking design is chained. It’s a necessary evil:
developers will want their game to reach as many players as possible, and in capturing a market outside of those who already play games frequently, they
must introduce their complex mechanics to a layperson who may never have held a controller in their hands before. Guiding them along with clunky,
immersion-breaking tutorials or pop-up hints – holding their hand, as it were – may be helpful for them, but it’s also patronizing and frustrating for
those who can pick up a game’s mechanics quickly, or those who enjoy the process of sussing it out. Think of it this way: the first screen of
Super Mario Bros never included a prompt that said “Press A to jump”, did it?
And because games are such a massively lucrative global market, this design philosophy has become ubiquitous, permeating almost every new studio title that
is released. It’s an alarming trend, indicative of an increasingly profit-fueled industry that is content to deliver lazily-designed games so long as they
move enough copies (the parallels with Hollywood are, of course, too obvious to explore). Nintendo’s recent
The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, for
example, was rightfully slammed by industry critics for its blandly repetitive and lackluster design, and its reliance on hand-holding to teach its simple
mechanics – something that was particularly upsetting considering the ingenious design of early
Zelda titles, which encouraged exploration and
risk-taking. Even if their hand-holding isn’t as widespread as that, most games will at least include a section at the outset that explicitly tells the
player how to play the game, usually through a box of text that most people won’t even bother to read. No matter how right these developers are about how
stupid their demographics might be, nobody likes being told what to do. They just want to
play the game.