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2013-06-03 08:23:34
Tom Chatfield
In the age of smartphones and tablets, can new versions of the Xbox and
PlayStation dominate the living room like their predecessors, asks Tom
Chatfield.
My first taste of technological tribalism came courtesy of video games. Born at
the start of the 1980s, I entered my teens at a time when the most central
badge of belonging to many geeks my age was the answer to a single question
Sega or Nintendo?
In my case, it was Nintendo all the way. To be precise, it was the Super
Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES to its friends). From the outside the SNES
looked like an undistinguished grey lump of plastic while its rival, Sega s
Genesis/Mega Drive (the former name used only in North America), was black and
seductively sleek. But beneath the shell, as I never tired of explaining, mine
was a superior machine, with its 32,768 colours, Mode 7 graphical scaling, and
a stable of iconic games: Zelda; Metroid; Unirally; and the criminally
addictive Mario Kart.
Owning or endorsing both brands was unthinkable. At the time, games consoles
were the apogee of electronic achievement, and their rise or fall was the
single most important question in my digital world.
Two decades and four generations of consoles later, dedicated gaming machines
still fuel passionate debate. Today, though, it s not so much about winning the
console war as fighting for survival.
Witness Microsoft s announcement this May of its new console, the Xbox One:
successor to the seven-year-old Xbox 360. Despite the corporate rhetoric and
razzmatazz, much of the speculation that accompanied its unveiling centred on
whether this product was aimed at a customer which arguably no longer exists
someone willing to hook up a clever, expensive box to a huge television set
and put digital games at the centre of their household.
In an age of smartphones and tablets, it s easy to see why warring to dominate
the living room looks like an anachronism. Microsoft has made several
concessions to evolving technologies, emphasising the Xbox One s integration
with TV and social media an emphasis that bred its own brand of contempt from
critics underwhelmed by the world's most expensive TV remote. But, as games
industry expert Nicholas Lovell argued on his website following Microsoft s
event, The future battle is not for the control of the living room: it is for
control of the direct relationship between creator and consumer via this
personal screen. It s like Microsoft is fighting to be the person who controls
the fixed line phone in an age of mobile telephony.
When the last generation of games consoles appeared, there was no such thing as
an iPhone. Today, there are more smartphones in the world than consoles have
been sold in history. Digital play has been democratised in a way unthinkable a
decade ago, while as Lovell notes personal, portable screens are rapidly
overtaking monitors and televisions in every aspect of our lives. Even at home,
the big screen on the wall plays second fiddle to the small ones clasped in our
hands.
It s a different world even to that of 2008, when Nintendo s then latest
consoles the Wii and DS helped it to become the world s most profitable
company per capita. Five years later, the company posted its first ever annual
loss, while sales of its new Wii U have been disappointing since its release in
November last year.
Virtual unreality
Yet there remains something in games consoles that still feels significant to
me. Like play itself, it s as much emotional and symbolic as it is pragmatic,
and it rests on a distinctly old-fashioned vision of computing: of technology
not as an efficient facilitator, but as a conjurer of other worlds.
To put a games console at the heart of your house is to create a magic circle
into which you can step with total attention and which in return grants
access to digital realms crafted to enthral, engage and amaze. As many have
pointed out, the $50-plus price point of triple-A console games looks like an
anachronism at a time when top-notch apps can be had for a dollar, while
soaring budgets are a major issue for developers. At its best, though, the
bargain remains unique: enter an adventure at the cutting edge of unreality,
and for a moment leave your life behind.
It s an impulse that can quite reasonably be called adolescent, regressive and
escapist. Games consoles have never been for everyone. They re a playground for
those who like my teenage self want not simply to be served by technology,
but to be transported by it. Hence the success of perhaps the most remarkable
accessory to grace consumer electronics, Microsoft s Kinect: a sensor array
able to track, and to model onscreen, users every movement via stereoscopic
cameras.
An upgraded version of Kinect is one of the centrepieces of Xbox One, and
rightly so because what seems gimmicky when you re waving at it to change TV
channels can become, in the middle of play, little less than a miracle. Kinect
is not just about controlling a machine with your body: it s about becoming an
active, physical presence within the screen itself. Like deities descending
from a higher plane, it s the closest we ve yet come to incarnating ourselves
within virtual worlds.
If this sounds grandiose, that s because it is. It s far too early fully to
judge Microsoft s latest creation, of course, let alone to back winners in its
combat with Sony s forthcoming PlayStation 4. Despite the ferocious competition
for attention and dollars, though, there s something at the heart of console
gaming that isn t going away: the passionate desire to meld play and technology
into something entirely apart from everyday life.