The Psychology of Game of the Year Debates

Ah, late December. The time when the gaming press gets its members together and tries to convince each other that one awesome game is more awesome than other awesome games –also known as the Game of the Year Awards. When I worked as part of the creative team on GameSpy.com we would lock ourselves in a conference room and argue literally for hours about the minutia surrounding every big title released that year in order to generate our awards. I’m also listening attentively to the GotY content over on Giant Bomb, which is dedicating a full week of multi-hour podcasts to the raw debates that generated its lists. 1

These podcasts are interesting to me because I keep seeing well established psychological phenomenon coming up, but almost as interesting is when a psychological quirk doesn’t manifest itself because the guys seem to be aware of its danger to the process and have taken steps to avoid it. So in this post I present my list of 2010′s Top 5 Biases That Affect 2010 Game of the Year Discussions. Sponsored by Crest Whitening Tooth Strips.2

#5: The Recency/Primacy Effect

The recency effect describes how it’s often easier for us to recall more information (and more salient information) about things that have happened more recently or items towards the end of a list. Similarly, the primacy effect means the same thing for items at the beginning of a list or that happened towards the beginning of an established time frame. Between the two of these effects, stuff in the middle tends to get forgotten or muddled.

Remember Bayonetta?

The impact on GotY lists should be apparent: If you’re studying a list of games released in the last year, it’s going to be easier to recall stuff about the first and last few games. We’re also more likely to recall details about games we played more recently (like Call fo Duty: Black Ops) or earlier in the year (like Bayonetta). Details and memories of games released toward the middle of the year (like Splinter Cell: Conviction) might not come to mind as easily.3

#4: Confirmation Bias

This is a big one for GotY discussions. Confirmation bias is our tendency to ignore or downplay information that dis-confirms our preconceived decisions or opinions and to pay more attention to and emphasize information that confirms them. If you go into a discussion of the Best Downloadable Game of 2010 thinking that Monday Night Combat should win, you’re less likely to think about its flaws (e.g., limited maps, repetitive comments from the announcer) and more likely to remember its strengths (e.g., class balance, fun character design) relative to someone who didn’t hold the same assumption. What’s more, you’ll probably say that the pros are more important to weighting your decision than the cons.

End of discussion! Wait, what?

Good ways to combat this are to get in the mindset of allowing people to challenge your assumptions and engaging in debate. It can also be helpful to list out the pros/cons (with help from others) so that you see them laid out and from a different perspective.

#3: Over-Emphasizing Salient Features

I wrote at length about this concept earlier, but here’s the quick version: When puny humans are asked to justify a decision, we tend to focus on the most salient or plausible explanations and then give them too much weight. To repeat my example from the previous article: if asked to explain why you favor Red Dead Redemption for the Best Action Game of the 2010, you may think about what should be included in the checklist for evaluating an action game, come up with “the weapons,” and then feel compelled to award or take away credit for how the game’s weapons feel and work. The problem is, the most salient and plausible factors may not be the ones that are really responsible for how much you enjoy the game. The weapons in Red Dead Redemption are largely unremarkable –the game’s appeal lies almost entirely in other areas and any weight given to how cool the weapons are is inappropriate at best.

This gun is irrelevant. Ignore this gun.

I keep seeing this come up in GotY discussions because professional game enthusiasts4 tend to hate using vague, worn out descriptors like “fun” or “awesome” or “polished” even though those words may be perfectly appropriate if a bit mundane. But these Internet auteurs are determined to have something more descriptive to say, so they cast about for something else and end up falling for the trap described above.

#2: Social Proof and Groupthink

This one is kind of a twofer since social proof and groupthink are separate but related. Again, I’ve written about social proof before, and the idea is that we will sometimes accept proclamations that are clearly at odds with our own senses just because we often have a desire to conform to the group’s standards. Soloman Asch showed this in a classic study where he got people to say that a long line was shorter than a short line simply by having someone planted in the group who would immediately pipe up and say so. The effect is even stronger with a group of strangers and statements with a less clearly defined correct answer, such as politics or game of the year awards. Which is why someone may not speak up when others in the group immediately jump on World of Warcraft: Cataclysm as the Best Role-Playing Game of the year, even though by most reasonable definitions it’s not a game.5

Deathwing thinks Line A is shorter. Are YOU going to argue?

The flipside is groupthink, which is when members of a cohesive, established group will ignore information, abstain from critical debate and accept otherwise questionable decisions in order to minimize conflict and maintain warm fuzzies. So again, Cataclysm might win, because so-and-so can be such a pedantic jackass about it and nobody wants to harsh the vibe or destroy the atmosphere of friendly discussion.

Interestingly, the Giant Bomb guys seemed to disarm these two biases from the start by joking about how they hate each other and how they anticipate rancorous arguments. This sets the stage that it’s okay –expected, even– to question each others’ decisions and engage in critical analysis.

#1: The Distinction Bias

Many GotY debates in categories like “Best [Genre] Game” come down to two similar contenders, resulting in protracted discussions where the merits of each candidate are obsessively scrutinized. This is a recipie for what’s known as the distinction bias. The idea comes from a theory that people engage in two modes of evaluation when pondering the merits of an experience: joint evaluation and single evaluation mode. The former is done when comparing multiple things at once and the latter when evaluating something individually.6

The distinction bias describes how when operating in joint evaluation mode we tend to over-emphasize and over weight otherwise slight differences between the subjects. If debating Need for Speed: Hot Pursuit and Grand Turismo 5 for Driving Game of the Year, we may make a bigger deal about Hot Pursuit’s lower frame rate than we would have if we were evaluating the game by itself. As a result, when operating in this comparison mode we tend to think worse of the loser than we would have if we had evaluated it without resorting to direct comparisons.

We need speed. And also unbounded rationality.

This is perhaps acceptable in GotY debates when we HAVE to pick a winner –it’s often the fine details that act as tie breakers. But the trouble may come when you have a mix of different types of games where two of them are similar. If you aim to trim the initial list to a set of three finalists, a tempting place to start is by comparing the most similar games (c.f., elimination by alternatives). Because of the distinction bias, the loser in that comparison may end up being evaluated worse than before and may end up getting cut from the list even though it was better than the non-similar games.

So there you have it. Five psychological phenomena that drive game of the year debates. Go listen to your favorite GotY podcast (again, I heartily recommend The Giant Bombcast) and see if you can catch them in action. If you do, post about it in the comments section!

Confirmatory Information Bias and Tony Hawk RIDE

Why does Tony Hawk think YOU think his game sucks?

Released right at the cusp of the Christmas ’09 shopping season, Tony Hawk RIDE (just like that, in all caps, ’cause it’s CRAZY!) featured a humongous plastic skateboard controller and an equally enormous price tag of $130, but promised to revolutionize the genre. Instead, RIDE got slammed almost universally by critics, as reflected it brutally low Metacritic score of around 50%. Message board denizens also savaged this thing, sometimes harshly even by “some anonymous Internet dude” standards.

Why? Well, pro skateboarder and fan of attaching his name to things Tony Hawk thinks that it’s because you and almost everyone else were biased against it from the start. As he told some place called the Sudbury Star in an interview:

“They were ready to discredit it before they even tried it, and if it didn’t play exactly how they imagined it… I think that they’re just not giving it a fair shake. And I think a lot of them came into it with an attitude that it’s going to suck.” ((“Hawk Defends Ride”))

In addition, Hawk tweeted:

“Most snarky critics had their minds set before ever seeing/playing the game.”

And while the guys over at the Penny Arcade webcomic had some fun with this quote by pointing out the absurdity of people’s buying stuff they expect to hate, Hawk may have a point. Maybe he’s an extreme pro psychologist in addition to a skateboarding superstar, because he’s talking about something called “confirmatory information bias.”

The Tony Hawk PLANK

The Tony Hawk PLANK

This fancy little term refers to the fact that humans tend to focus on information that confirms their existing beliefs and ignore information that disputes them. This is a pretty robust phenomenon, and neuroscientists have even identified a pair of brain bits that may be responsible. The first is the anterior cingulate cortex, which activates in a particular way when we perceive something we believe to be an error. The second is the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex, a bit of grey matter just behind the forehead which, in the words of neuroscientist and author Jonah Lehrer, acts as a kind of “delete key” (or “B” button or “Circle” button if you’re a conlsole gamer) that literally erases things from our mind when they don’t jive with our model of how the world should be. ((For more info, see Lehrer, J. (2010). Accept Defeat: The Neuroscience of Screwing Up. Wired Jan 2010))

A lot of people looked at RIDE and saw the ugly continuation of a trend created by fake plastic rock games like Guitar Hero and continued with stuff like DJ Hero –games with high price tags and huge, cumbersome peripherals that start to pile up very quickly in small apartments. They didn’t like being asked to play $130 to squat on something that looked like one of Michael J Fox’s hoverboard props in Back to the Future II. In addition, the Tony Hawk games have kind of become passé in the last few years, losing their cool factor to upcomers like EA’s Skate games. So people kind of wanted RIDE to be terrible.

Based on the above quotes, Mr. Hawk seems to argue that reviewers, being in possession of human brains, were not immune to confirmatory information biases. When they played the game, this bit of human psychology led them to ignore the good parts of the game and focus on the bad bits. Maybe this same bias in thinking led people to overestimate the number of times technical issues arose, like sensors not picking up on their frantic hand waiving. The result? An irrational hatred for the game based on immutable preconceptions and not the merits of the title itself. It’s YOUR fault.

Of course, maybe the data could be explained by the alternate hypothesis that the game is terrible and people don’t want to pay $130 for something that that’s going to make them wobble and flail like a fool and that they don’t have storage space for in the first place. You know. That’s also possible.