“Essential reading for anybody tasked with reaching or inspiring today's 'continuous partial attention' generation."
—Ricky Van Veen, co-founder, CollegeHumor
“Leave it to Aaron Dignan to make the unique and compelling case for how digital gaming strategies can be applied to corporate performance. Aaron is at his best when he simplifies complexity and makes it actionable, which is what he’s done in Game Frame, making the strategies of gaming immensely approachable—if not mandatory—to growing a business. Game Frame is a must-read for marketers and enthusiasts of behavioral science.”
—Beth Comstock, CMO, GE
"Aaron is always insightful, challenging and fun. This book distills all these qualities perfectly. It's Aaron in a bottle. I loved it."
—MT Carney, President of Marketing, Walt Disney Studios
"It seems like everybody's talking about applying game mechanics to the real world. But most of those applications are trivial, doing justice to neither game nor world. In Game Frame, Aaron Dignan goes beyond pointsification, offering a new design theory for using games in places you'd least expect."
—Ian Bogost, Ph.D., author of Persuasive Games and co-author of Newsgames
“Up Up, Down Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, B, A, Read, Win.”
—Josh Spear, publisher, JoshSpear.com
“As videogames expand beyond the bedrooms of 14 year old boys to become a legitimized form of mass-market entertainment, this book brilliantly explores what to expect, and why this is a good thing, for everybody. A great insight into the future of engagement.”
—Brad Jakeman, EVP/CMO, Activision Publishing
“Aaron has done a great job of showing how game mechanics can help us win in other areas, especially negotiation and deal making.”
—Rob Segal, CEO, Virgin Gaming
"Game Frame is an excellent crash course on how to add game mechanics to improve nearly any experience."
—Jesse Schell, author of The Art of Game Design
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
In so many communities and organizations, the lack of interesting and challenging opportunities is apparent. Teenagers with excess free time and hungry minds are forced to choose from a scant menu of options, often resorting to mindless forms of entertainment to pass the time. Adults in the workplace aren’t much better off, but the demands of work and family life keep us busy enough to be complacent with the status quo.
Whether the fault lies with the systems that surround us or the way we’re approaching them, boredom isn’t the only thing holding us back. It’s part of a larger trend of issues preventing us from realizing our potential. Some of us suffer from a lack of motivation. Others have problems with follow-through—eagerly starting new projects with verve only to lose steam over time. Still others feel helpless even to try, discouraged by the apparent difficulty of what lies ahead.
These feelings are all common among people who have become disenchanted with “the system,” whether that system is their company, their school, or even their personal life. Examining these issues and how they relate to each other, I’ve grouped them into two distinct symptoms: lack of volition and lack of faculty. By understanding how they inhibit us, we can attack them head on. Let’s take a closer look.
Lack of Volition. Volition is the will to do something; the motivation and internal drive to see it through. Any kind of proactive or ambitious behavior is evidence of strong volition. People who lack volition feel lost, bored, or disconnected from the task at hand. They can’t see why an activity or behavior is worthwhile. A lack of volition is defined by disinterest, low involvement, and arrested development. An individual lacking volition says, “I’m not going to do that. Why would I? What’s in it for me?”
Lack of Faculty. Faculty is the belief that we have the skills and tools to handle the challenges we’re facing; that we know how to begin and have the confidence to pursue our goals. People who lack faculty in a particular situation may feel that it’s too hard, or that it’s unclear what they need to do to succeed. A lack of faculty is defined by anxiety, submission, and ultimately, despair. An individual lacking faculty says, “I can’t do this. I’m not prepared. I don’t know how.”
We can’t bribe our way out of these issues. But that’s exactly what we try to do. Faced with an unmotivated employee or student, our first instinct is to dangle a carrot (an incentive). If that doesn’t work, we threaten him. In either case, we’re missing the point. Tackling a lack of volition or faculty with blunt instruments like rewards and punishments simply ignores the fact that the activities and experiences causing these symptoms aren’t any fun.
The Proof Is in the Pudding
Fortunately for us, one medium is designed to address these issues systemically: games. They do this through a structured and challenging system that makes the process of learning rewarding, enables deep engagement, provides a sense of autonomy, and asks us to be heroes in our own stories.
Games, in contrast to shallow rewards systems, are made up of activities that we genuinely like. They manage to pull us in and hold our attention almost effortlessly. This is no accident. Games are created with our enjoyment in mind. Josh Knowles, a software developer and designer, drives this point home on his website: “Games are engagement engines. To design a game is to take some thing—some basic enjoyable and/or satisfying interaction—and carefully apply rules to help players maximize the enjoyment and/or satisfaction they have with that interaction.”
The point is that playing games is satisfying in and of itself. If we aim to overcome the lack of volition and faculty that we’re facing, it follows that our experiences—be they at work, school, or at home—need to be enjoyable and satisfying in their own right. Layering a rewards system over an existing experience doesn’t make us like it any better, it just encourages us to tolerate it.
And yet, game-like rewards systems have become quite popular. From loyalty cards to points systems to badges for achievement, organizations are beginning to see the value of game mechanics applied to everything from software to staff meetings. But while simply pasting game mechanics—the ingredients that make games work—onto an existing system is great for short-term engagement, it will almost certainly lead to diminishing returns down the road. The core experience of an activity matters, and a veneer of gameplay isn’t going to change that.
If deeper engagement and performance are what we seek, we need to change our systems from the inside out. And in places where we can’t, we must pay close attention to the way we apply a game layer to our lives. Because using play to influence behavior is more complicated than we think.
Human beings are learning machines. Our brains are always hunting for patterns—exploring and experimenting—in order to increase our chance of survival. We learn in order to thrive, and it’s our main method of interaction with the world around us. So it’s not surprising that learning is often accompanied by enjoyment.
A game, at its core, is a kind of structured learning environment. In games, we learn two important things: new skills and new information. Game designers spend a lot of time thinking about skills in particular, because they are the basic framework of interaction with the game system itself. In the classic Nintendo game Super Mario Bros., learning how to run and jump are skills that are fundamental to completing the game. Much of our engagement comes from the trial and error learning process of running and jumping with abandon, slowly turning clumsiness into precision. Once you’ve acquired those skills, you’re able to move through subsequent levels far more freely. And of course, knowledge of each level—the location of every enemy and reward that lies in wait for you—is the other half of mastering the game.
That Learning Feeling
It’s hard to tell exactly when we’re learning. We have a sense that it’s happening, but it’s not a conscious process. We encounter something new, turn it over and over in our minds (or hands), and somehow, in the handling, it becomes our own. Mental connections are made, and we now possess something we didn’t before. Along the way, while we’re not aware of these connections being formed, we are aware of how we feel during this process. We feel riveted. We feel as if we’re “getting it.” We feel a sense of deep satisfaction.
To describe this process, game designer Raph Koster borrowed a wonderful term from the world of science fiction: grok. To grok something means to understand it so thoroughly that it becomes a part of you. Our brains love grokking new information, so we feel good when it happens. In fact, neuroscientists have shown that when we figure something out, our brains release a flood of chemicals known as opioids (nature’s “pleasure drugs”).
Any new skill or nugget of information represents a puzzle to our brains, one we feel compelled to solve. Once we grok it though—once it’s understood—we need a new reason to stay engaged.
Funnily enough, the bored cashier at the checkout stand probably wasn’t bored on her first day. She was swimming in a sea of new policies and processes, rules, and regulations. New behaviors and skills were required, and fast. She had a lot of things to figure out. But somewhere between day one and day thirty, she grokked the job. The pattern became clear, and her development slowed. Her boredom is a symptom of an exhausted system—one that is effectively saying, “Nothing else to learn here, just keep doing what you’re doing.” All that remains for her in terms of motivation is a nominal reward in the form of a weekly paycheck. That’s simply not enough. As we’ll see later, our volition depends on continued learning and growth.
Who’s In Charge Here?
In games, we control the action by making our own decisions. Without our input, most games simply stop. This kind of autonomy is incredibly empowering stuff, and it’s something sorely missing from the average person’s day. Control represents both the freedom to act and interact with the system, as well as our ability to manipulate the world around us. In the game of basketball, the players each have control of their movements on the court, while they attempt to exert some measure of control on the ball itself. In most cases, the rules of play communicate to players what is and isn’t under their control.
One of my favorite examples of autonomy in action is the Montessori method. Entrusted to educate a classroom full of five-year-olds, most of us would begin developing lesson plans. With kids that young, structure is key—we need to manage their time and attention. Right?
Not necessarily. According to Maria Montessori, children have a natural way of interacting with the world around them that promotes learning and mastery. It’s simple: put a group of kids in a room filled with creative supplies and resource...