The aesthetic reward and the sense of progression in (and finally the completion of) an adventure has so much more value to me than a mere increase in numbers (especially since games usually reward you for things that don't even make sense, like scraping off the paint from your enemies' vessels or some shit), or the reputation of a good spot on the high score list, even if I managed to top every one of them on this forum. I've had so much more fun with my shooting games since I gave up "playing for score".
The title of the article by the way is rather harsh, but comically accurate when you think about it. I've worked with dozens of children with disorders within the autism spectrum and basically all of them had obscenely focused interests. There was this one little dude for instance who sat all day long memorizing entire phone directories. But hey, if you like numbers a lot, knock yourself out! :)
Here's my favourite quote from the piece:
But please do try to track down the article for yourselves (just do a Google search) to get the full story. There are a lot of subtleties I might get wrong if I were to try to summarize it, and it's an enjoyable read anway. I think a lot of you will find it interesting, if not mind-blowing.Alex Kierkegaard wrote:Consider, for example ... what would have happened to the Metriod games if, instead of hunting for mechanics-altering and progress-enabling items, you were hunting for boxes with random numbers on them — boxes whose only function would be to increase your score, so that by finding more of them than other players WHO ARE NOT EVEN PRESENT IN THE GAMEWORLD you'd manage to beat their high scores. The entire series' atmosphere would have been instantly wrecked this way — which is the exact opposite to what would happen if pure scoring mechanics in scoring games were replaced with mechanics-altering and progress-enabling mechanics, i.e. with natural mechanics.