Welcome to Friday’s late iteration of Right Click to Zoom, the more in-depth article side of this blog. Today’s topic is a follow up to the one that started this whole segment a month ago. Simply put, is video game difficulty excluding people? If so, is this a bad thing, and how should players and developers alike adjust?
Previously, I spoke about competency and professionalism in games journalism and touched on many of these concepts briefly, so it might be worth starting with that article if you’ve yet to read it. Regardless, the discussion has carried on in the month since, and it’s grown to the point that it’s time to address the newer parts.
Video games started their history by being fairly difficult, both by design and by technical limitations. Forget life bars or progress metres; it was usually you against the high score, with your progress being how much money you managed to save on coin-operated arcade machines. One hit was often all it took to end a run, and the backlog of extra lives usually wasn’t much leeway. That was how the games earned their money, after all.
It wasn’t until home consoles arose from the arcade scene that we started to see games with the kind of progression that we’re more familiar with now. Technology advanced and games were now able to feature stories beyond barebones excuse plots. Rather than being the semi-infinitely repeatable levels of Pacman and its ilk, games had clear beginnings and endings that were quite different. Concepts like tabletop RPGs were ported to video games with titles such as Dragon Quest or Ultima, giving more consistent worlds.
Most importantly, they introduced means of progression and power development that was based on more than just player skill. Suddenly, it didn’t have to be how accurately you timed your jumps or how well you dodged, but it could instead be about which items you’d collected or what level your characters were. The differentiation between those two concepts of player progression is something that deserves its own article, but that’s not what I’m here to talk about.
To sum it up: as games got technologically better, they no longer needed to be difficult for the sake of being difficult. Many still were for the sake of padding out their lifespan and preventing people from paying large amounts for minimal content, mind, but it was no longer a requirement. Video games were able to tell more stories and explore more concepts, so challenge became a design choice rather than a necessary constant. In addition, not only could games tell these stories, but enough games were being developed by an assortment of developers that odds are good they probably were being told.
As such, it was possible to go through multiple console generations without necessarily being challenged. People who played games that were predominantly focused on their narratives could find a plethora of options without ever having to deal with high difficulty. Likewise, those seeking tight gameplay requirements and tough challenges could find them. Sometimes they would overlap, but it was always on the player to select a game that was more to their interest.
In the last console generation or so, however, that notion has changed completely. There’s been a growing sensation that people are being excluded from games. Titles that people might not have previously played are being sought out, only to prove too much for them; either the games are inherently built to provide difficult challenges, or they’re games that belong to entirely different genres or subsets from where the individual players skills might lay.
We’re now seeing two particular types of vocal extremes arising in the video game community as a result. There are those who embrace the challenges themselves while insisting that others “get good” to match them, and then there are those who lack either the skills to beat these challenges or the time investment required to develop them. It’s these two extremes that are starting to butt heads, and the vast majority of gamers are stuck in the middle feeling the fallout of it.
A recent article on Polygon kickstarted this discussion into high gear just recently, where they claimed that players who might want to play these games are being excluded because they are too difficult for them. Rather than work to beat the games on their own merits or else cut their losses and move on, this article instead suggests that games should not be made so difficult without having the options to allow everyone to play all the way to the end.
As such, this has caught the attention of both those who would cry “get good” before anything else, and those who would defend the article without any regard for the notion of overcoming the challenge before them. Most frustratingly, both these sides have almost taken on a political slant, with elements of modern social politics and extremism creeping in. When the idea of people being excluded from something for any reason comes about, no matter how justified, this is almost inevitable. I have no interest in social politics however, so I won’t be addressing this directly, but it is still worth noting its presence.
So. Get good versus let everyone play. The concept of exclusion from specific video games. How did this come about, and what can we do about it?
The Dark Souls shaped elephant in the room
The exact definition of an RPG has gotten quite tenuous, but I define it as “a game where numbers and statistics determine the brunt of player power”. To me, it’s not necessarily the presence of leveling up that makes it an RPG, but rather that those level ups (or similar systems) are your primary method of growing stronger. This is why something like Tales of Berseria is an RPG but Saint’s Row isn’t, despite both featuring a level up system.
When character statistics and the numbers associated with them are the calculations for most of your power and progression, the skill of the player is usually relegated to an afterthought. There might be a strategic element in setting up your battles and manipulating your repertoire of abilities appropriately, but the average RPG from both East and West can usually be made simpler by increasing your numbers to ease your way.
As such, many would consider an RPG to be a much easier affair than a sidescrolling platformer or other skill-based game. Optional difficulties might increase or decrease these same stats in some ways, but the rule still holds. There are also exceptions to the rule; few would consider Shin Megami Tensei 3: Nocturne to be an easy game, even if it’s a traditional levels and stats JRPG at core.
And then there was Dark Souls.
Games journalists are quick to use it as a comparison to whatever game they’re discussing, where it’ll be brought up quickly at the first sign of any difficulty. Just look at some of the entries in the X Meets Dark Souls Twitter account, which highlights some of the more egregious examples.
As a quick aside, this is a terrible means of comparing titles and journalists should never do this. It’s lazy, it requires knowledge from the reader that they might not possess, and it’s extremely unclear just how the link is made. Yes, Dark Souls is known for its difficulty, but it’s also known for a fascinating and very indirect “show don’t tell” approach to lore and worldbuilding, interesting enemy design, extensive options for player builds, intense (and sometimes hilarious) player vs player systems, intricate level design that is all one interconnected map… the list goes on. Calling a game “like Dark Souls” without further elaboration is not just indistinct, it’s flat out lazy.
But I digress. Dark Souls is an action RPG from the Playstation 3 that features all of the above design elements, and then some. It’s also a sequel; the game Demon’s Souls (also on the PS3) featured many of the same design elements and choices, but slightly less refined. It’s a cult classic, but it never quite achieved the mainstream success that Dark Souls did. Regardless, both games were constructed with the notion that they would be quite challenging, featuring tough fights, brutal bosses, and level design that would often blindside you with ambushes or difficult conditions.
It’s the kind of niche game that would normally only be picked up by those who particularly favour that kind of challenge. However, Dark Souls was critically acclaimed and quickly built up a large player base for reasons beyond the difficulty. While the challenge was the primary appeal, it was the world design, the character options, and the very uncommon and slightly depressing take on lore and characterisation that helped it make its mark. And suddenly, people who didn’t actually want to play a game like it were intrigued enough to try it out.
This is where the problems began. See, Dark Souls has no difficulty settings. If you want to play, you will have to go in assuming that you will probably die at some point; hell, the game’s tagline is even “Prepare to Die”. If you’re not quick to adapt, you will probably die a lot. Progress will be slow going, and you will have to learn how to make your way through levels and defeat certain enemies step by painful step.
Like any RPG, your power is still determined by numbers and statistics, and you can farm and power level to a point where some of the difficulty is mitigated or leeway is granted. But even with this, it’s not the potential “I win” solution of other games, and skill is required no matter what level you are to avoid dying completely. No, in order to make it through these games, you will have to hone your skills as a player more than boost your character.
Some people, especially the game’s target audience, took to the challenge with aplomb. They struggled, they learned, they adapted, and they prevailed. Other players, who were drawn in by the high scores or the promise of worldbuilding or presentation unlike most games, failed instead. When they took to forums and social media for advice (or more commonly, to complain or request difficulty settings), they were often meet by responses of “get good” by the former.
That’s not to say that some people aren’t helpful in giving tips and mechanics advice to newcomers, mind, but the notion of Get Good remained and continued. And ultimately, it’s correct! There are better methods of presenting it rather than throwing those two words, of course, but the message still holds true. You can complain all you want, but if the options remain locked, the only way you’ll progress is by developing your skill as a player.
The success of Dark Souls saw something of a resurgence of challenging games. They’d always been there, of course, but suddenly they were put more in the spotlight than their previous niche positions. Obviously, there were the Dark Souls sequels, but there were also a number of imitators of the style of combat and gameplay.
Nioh is perhaps the best example of a Dark Souls imitator, as it took the concepts of the game and applied it to a very dark, yokai infested take on Sengoku Japan. It consists of individual levels rather than an interconnected world, and has a more direct method of exposition and storytelling, but the combat and difficulty curve is similar to the Souls franchise. It’s an excellent game on its own merit, but once again, there are many who were likely put off by the unforgiving nature of the combat.
Beyond the direct influences, there has been an increase in games released that are much tougher than people might be used to. And it’s not just the big name releases, too — there’s a whole slew of indie titles that you can find on Steam that are labeled as difficult and Dark Souls inspired since. Games like Salt and Sanctuary wear their influences on their sleeve.
Now the options for difficult games are more common and less niche. But with this shift, there’s also been the consideration that it’s completely okay for games to be difficult, and this is true. At the same time, it’s exposing this difficulty to people that might not have otherwise had the exposure to what was previously a niche.
Exposure to new concepts and games is a good thing, and it’s always worth going beyond your comfort zone to see what else video games can offer. There are plenty of people in this category who are doing just that, and that’s great. What’s less great, unfortunately, is the tendency for people to refuse to change their own patterns and preferences for the game, but instead are trying to force the games to change for them.
It’s this mentality that is at the crux of today’s post, and the recent discussions about it are largely focused on a game that I’ve already touched on before in my competency and professionalism article.
Cuphead, or Are You Owed an Ending for Purchasing?
Cuphead is a 2D sidescrolling shooter with a combination of run-and-gun levels mixed in with large, extensive boss fights. You play as the titular Cuphead and make your way through each area, defeating all the bosses to collect their contracts and ultimately face down the final boss. It has co-op play, so you can tackle it alone or with a friend.
It’s also a very difficult and challenging game.
Once upon a time, a game like Cuphead would probably have not been particularly mainstream. However, where this title stands out is the art style and sound direction. See, Cuphead is directly inspired by the glory days of cartoons and animation from the 1930s to 1950s. It’s been crafted painstakingly to look, sound, and behave like those cartoons to incredibly fine detail. More than any aspect of gameplay, the presentation and appearance of Cuphead is absolutely stellar. See for yourself!
It’s safe to say that there hasn’t been a game with this particular brand of visual fidelity to its concept in a long time, if ever. It’s not the kind of visual style that is utilised often; not even in modern day cartoons will you see this kind of animation. As well as being a video game, it’s not hard to want to call Cuphead a work of art.
But I have a statement that I frequently feel like I have to bring up: video games may be art, but they must be video games and need to be treated as such.
First and foremost, Cuphead is a video game. Unlike any other form of entertainment media, video games are inherently interactive. You can’t change the outcome of a book or a movie that you might watch (outside of fanfiction, anyway), but you are at the helm of a game. You progress or you fail and start over based entirely on your skills and actions. It’s this interactive gameplay that is the core of why video games are different from any other form of media. The art, sound and story can all impact the enjoyment or quality of a game, but gameplay is king.
In the case of Cuphead, it is still a visual spectacle, but it’s also a sidescrolling shooter. The facets of this gameplay are, by most accounts, very well designed. It plays well, is quite responsive, and is varied and nuanced in both level and enemy design.
It is also, once again, very challenging for the vast majority of players. But this too is by design; many of the bosses have patterns and rhythms that you can learn in order to overcome and avoid their attacks, and few if any will place you in situations so unfair that you have no way of getting through. Furthermore, there’s a gradual sense of progression, as each boss further compounds on aspects used by earlier bosses to ramp up the difficulty. It might take a few attempts or time spent practicing, but it’s a beatable game, and it always looks amazing throughout this process.
If the game is proving too challenging, there is a simpler difficulty setting that you can select. This, however, is more like a practice mode than the full game; most of the bosses will not include their final phase, or will have patterns and aspects that they’re missing. Furthermore, this mode doesn’t allow you to access the final two bosses in the game, requiring you to progress on the regular difficulty setting instead.
Now personally, I don’t see a problem with this setup. If you cannot proceed through the game, then I expect to spend some time practicing or working my way up there. If I still cannot best the challenges, oh well, I’ll put it down and either come back later or leave it unfinished. From there, I’ll decide if I considered the game worth it or not. If I found it fun and enjoyable, then odds are that it’s going to be a yes, regardless of whether or not I finished. My sense of enjoyment and satisfaction from reaching the end might be heightened, but it isn’t mandatory for me to consider a game as good.
Nonetheless, Polygon has decided to argue by asking the question “When is exclusion a valid design choice?” The article in question brings up the notion that if a video game is purchased, a player is entitled to see the ending. Furthermore, they claim that players shouldn’t be excluded from doing so just because the game is too difficult. Their position is that if someone purchases Cuphead, then they should be able to access every boss fight, every level, and every available scene regardless of skill level.
Frankly, I don’t agree with this at all. As stated above, I firmly believe that the gameplay is the most crucial element of a game. You might be able to make exceptions for specific genres with limited direct gameplay, such as visual novels or walking simulators, but a platformer is not a genre I’d categorise as such. The design of a platformer lives and dies on the quality of its gameplay.
Since playing the game is so crucial, I would also consider playing the game as the designers intended to be just as important. Cuphead was built to played as it is, with bosses increasing in difficulty and complexity as the game progresses before culminating in a conclusion that utilises all you’ve learnt. Should a player be allowed, then, to access any boss they want in any order regardless of whether they actually beat it or its predecessors? Perhaps on repeat playthroughs, but certainly not the first time through the game.
This focus on reaching the ending of a video game is counterproductive to enjoying it, I feel. By suggesting that every player should be allowed to see the ending no matter what, it implies to me that the writer of the article considers the ending to be the only part of the game that matters. Why must the ending matter so much more than any other aspect of the game to the point that people are feeling excluded if they cannot play well enough to access it?
That is far from the purpose of video games. They don’t exist to end and give kudos for adding another notch to your completion belt; they exist to be played and enjoyed. You shouldn’t be progressing through a game just to reach a conclusion, but instead you should be enjoying the gameplay as you progress through it. And in the event that you don’t (or cannot) finish the game, that is not a fault. There are plenty of games that I’ve enjoyed but have left unfinished, just as there are games that I’ve finished and disliked overall. Seeing the credits roll should not be the first time when a video game is allowed to be given merit.
As such, I feel that the notion that a buyer of a video game is entitled to an ending is absurd. The buyer of a video game is entitled to play the video game; whether or not they are capable of doing so to completion is up to them. If you purchase a game you end up not liking or can’t handle the challenge of, then I would encourage doing more research prior to purchasing. That’s what games journalism is meant to be there for, after all.
Thankfully, we live in an era where seeing the content of games is no longer impossible without playing them yourself. For every video game out there, it’s quite likely that there is a recording of someone playing through the game in its entirety on YouTube. More modern and current titles are frequently being played on live streams, and I know that Cuphead has many people of a wide spectrum of skill levels playing it currently.
If seeing the content means that much to you, then you now have options to see it. But a game is more than just seeing it; it’s about playing it. And if you still want to see the gorgeous visuals but don’t feel like playing through the challenging aspects, then you have those options too! But feeling excluded for not being able to overcome the difficulty feels more like you’re demanding the game bow to your whims, rather than you respect and enjoy the game for what it is.
Ultimately, I think that’s a large reason of why Cuphead in particular is receiving this kind of commentary and discussion. A game might be gameplay-centric, but the presentation and appearance can go a long way to catapulting that quality higher. Cuphead is a difficult platformer, but as mentioned previously, the classic cartoon aesthetic and presentation is the key draw of the game. People who wouldn’t normally want to play that kind of game are being drawn in by the visuals first.
Still, I maintain that people who want to see how it looks and plays can do so without spending a cent, and are completely free to do so without complaints about difficulty. Equally tough indie platformers such as Wings of Vi or They Bleed Pixels never received that kind of attention, let alone such feedback. Cuphead shouldn’t be the exception.
It’s also worth bringing up that exclusion through difficulty is completely different than exclusion for a legitimate reason, such as physical limitations or personal status. Perhaps you could make the argument for people with physical disabilities to still be entitled to access the content… but they can! There is a variety of specialised equipment available that allows people to control games in less standard ways, many of which can be used for people to bypass these conditions, most of which work just fine with Cuphead.
I’ve seen a person with no limbs consistently get to higher ranks than I ever achieved at League of Legends, and I have no doubt that such players could prove to be much better at Cuphead than I am too. Ultimately, those who wish to take on the challenge are completely able to and usually have the tools available to allow that. All it takes is somebody willing to practice and improve.
Design is Law
A game being difficult is the prerogative of a developer, but so is a game being easy, or even being any combination of the two. With how much attention to detail that games like Cuphead have, it seems unthinkable to imagine that the difficulty and its progression wasn’t given that same scrutiny. Likewise, the fact that the easier difficulty option doesn’t let you access the full extent of the boss fight mechanics or the final boss is also by design.
Developers Studio MDHR knew what they were doing, and that was their choice. You could argue that more options or a change in difficulty would be the correct way to develop the game, but the end result is the Cuphead we received. We’re allowed to criticise and comment on video games and their design, of course — this wouldn’t be much of a blog if I couldn’t — but ultimately the end result of a game is on the developer. It’s up to each individual to determine if that game is worth their time, and up to the journalist to provide the information needed for that decision to be made fairly.
With all that said, I do want to mention that I am all for the inclusion of options. The lead developer of Dark Souls went on record as saying that he would be fine with the inclusion of an easier difficulty mode in the series. The reaction of those in the “get good” camp of extreme opinions took this commentary less than positively, however; many felt that the inclusion of a dumbed down mode is just catering to casual players and devaluing the overall game.
That, too, I consider a logical fallacy. As much as I value the developer’s vision in designing a game, the inclusion of more options can only be a good thing. Still, it’s imperative that these be just that: options. No player should be forced to play something that they don’t want to, just like no player should force another to play in a specific way.
It is up to the individual if they find a particular game worth their time, and I don’t begrudge those who dislike games that I find enjoyable or vice versa. After all, my enjoyment of a game is mine, and it doesn’t (or shouldn’t) impact on others. Those who like the challenge of Dark Souls are always welcome to it, but if there’s an optional easier difficulty included in the game that allows those who don’t have the time or effort to develop those skills? That is also fine.
I’ll usually play games on the default or “normal” difficulty setting as intended, and will then shift that higher or lower depending on what feels best. Some will jump straight to the highest available difficulty, and others just want to breeze through. Nobody’s wrong here; it’s just personal preference. If the game accommodates more individual play styles, then the more the merrier, as long as they aren’t forced on you. Few people enjoy playing through a game on an easier difficulty just to unlock the harder one after all.
This might sound counter-intuitive to my commentary on Cuphead, but these two schools of thought are not mutually exclusive. I respect that Cuphead was designed to be difficult and I fully intend to play it on the regular setting to access everything. With all that said, if the option to full clear the game on an easier setting was present and I couldn’t progress without a significant time investment, then I probably would swap to that. But since that’s not a choice, I respect that.
It’s all about options. Developers have the power to add difficulties, or to allow further customisation and settings so that players can tailor make a game experience that suits them personally. Some would keep it simple, some would make it complex, and the difficulty could be anywhere in between. Ideally, there would be ways to tailor make every game to fit the needs of most players.
Games such as Bravely Default have the option to turn up or down battle encounters, for example. You could also adjust how much experience and money you received for the sake of clearing the game faster or avoiding nuisances when you want to advance the story. More recent Fire Emblem games include a Casual mode which removes character permadeath, but still allows you to play like this on the highest difficulties. I usually play on Casual as I don’t like being punished permanently for strategies going awry, but crank up the difficulty as high as I can manage to compensate, and this is perfectly doable.
These options are great to have so that individual playstyles are accommodated. More options are always welcome, and having them is something that developers should strive for. But — and I cannot stress this enough — the developer has the final say in how their product looks, and it’s better to judge games by what features they do have rather than what they don’t.
This is something that both extremes of the spectrum that I’ve touched on in this article need to acknowledge and respect, regardless of whether it favours them or not. If a game isn’t hard enough, then those who want difficult games are free to seek out others. Alternatively, if a game is too hard, then there’s a variety of games available that are probably more to your speed.
Something more to your tastes is likely out there, and the moment we all stop complaining about how others are playing games is a moment when the video game community as a whole will be improved. Declaring that difficulty is excluding people from games is just making an issue that isn’t there, nor should it be. Play the games that fit you personally.
Maybe Cuphead having a complete easy difficulty mode would allow more people to get through it, but it wasn’t designed that way. Players should thus respect this decision. After all, there were more than 15500 games on Steam alone as of January 2017. I doubt that it’s even possible for a single human to complete all of those games in their lifespan, let alone the games on other systems or that continue to be released. If one individual game doesn’t suit you, don’t cry that you’re being excluded; either adapt, or move on. There’s something out there that suits you better.
To conclude, I still don’t think this is an issue. A game doesn’t have to be finished by a player for them to find worth and enjoyment in it, and not everyone will find the same game enjoyable. As such, a game being difficult is no cause for alarm, and declaring that it’s excluding people is just wasting time… time that you could be using to progress, if not playing a different game that suits you better.
Saying that there’s simply not enough time in life to play through all the games you want to, though? Now that’s an argument I can get behind.
As a little bit of bonus material for the week, I wish to share a short video made by a friend of a friend on the subject of Cuphead, defending against the Polygon article as I did. It was very helpful in getting my thoughts and arguments across I wanted to, so I wanted to return the favour by sharing it for those interested. Delf out.
Delfeir vs. the Backlog 