Simplicity is Beautiful
Todo: add gifs!
56dev_ <programsym987@gmail.com>It’s really quite well-known how beautiful simplicity is, in its own way, as opposed to ostentatiously complex systems that “insist upon themselves” – though, this is not a universal criticism because complexity can be beautiful as well. However, I think that even the best complex systems arise from simple, graspable concepts, and their complexity derives at least some of its beauty from the simple axioms it rises forth from. I lean towards simplicity mostly because, as banal as it sounds, the videogames I play: All the videogames I’ve put time into in my life have mostly never been particularly complicated to understand. I say “all”, but really, there are only two.
The first is Minecraft, but not for the reason you might be thinking, if you are groaning with pains over the, in my opinion, overstated reasons why it is the “best game ever”. I personally don’t hold that belief, but I digress. The base game of Minecraft is boring in my opinion. This will enrage 90% of you but since my audience is smaller than a sucrose molecule currently I don’t think it’ll be much of a problem for me. What I spent the most time on is fighting other people: PVP. I enjoy a competitive aspect to my games even if it is a little exhausting and, yes, simplistic. For there is nothing to it other than “clicking on people with your lego sword” and maybe quickly holding and releasing the W key and strafing a little bit. A pretty simple concept, and a pretty simple objective, but the things that creators have done with it are astounding. It is also fun because there is a high skill ceiling, and, especially recently, it is interesting to watch, on the other hand, what the players have done with it. This, I think, will set off the theme for the rest of this article.
The second game I’ve spent time on is a game called osu!. It is a rhythm game whose main gimmick is you have to aim as well as click to the beat. Again, atrociously simple. However, the skill ceiling is incredibly high. As you can imagine, insane reflexes are needed to beat the hardest beatmaps in this game; but they never ever add any more features or concepts than that simple aiming and clicking (sometimes sliding and spinning too). I think this calls to mind one of the reasons I enjoy simplicity so much: when left restricted to such a simple concept you almost can’t help but find ways to push it to its limits, and then push those limits to the limits’ limits. When you do that, you discover an insane potential for what we can do if we put our minds to it, and that, I think, is beautiful.
There are other games, even if I don’t play them, that reinforce my beliefs. If you haven’t heard of “Armagetron”, it is basically competitive Snake. You heard that right. And there is competitive Tetris on tetr.io too (I watched some footage, and the intense tension that can arise out of some of the simplest games of all time is wild). These are both games that have unbelievably high skill ceilings and hold crazy potential for excellence and competition. Who would have thought that two of the most classic videogames would reach this level?
It’s also true that good game design often proceeds bottom-up, from simple concepts slowly adding more features while not betraying the foundational simplicity. I believe I can do no better to demonstrate than this video by Jonas Tyroller on how to create a single button fun to press. And isn’t this really the same exact concept employed by idle games? As opposed to the competitive aspect of other games, idle games operate by offering clear, linear, addicting progression – but it’s really the same concept: getting better and better at one thing.
All games, I think, operate with simplicity at their core. Chess, one of the most classic board games, is so popular partly because it is so easy to understand. Know how each piece moves, and you’re good to go. But in front of you is a long path littered with international tournaments, long treatises on strategy, several openings and styles of play, and a competitive elo system. I think this is the magic formula that makes things effective at pulling players in: make the onboarding as short as possible and the upwards journey after that as long as possible. You do it by setting down a few little concepts and sitting back to watch other people find the countless ways they interact or can be abused.
There are countless other examples: I had wanted to dig into more bullet-hell or rhythm games particularly, because these are genres that have very interesting concepts, thriving fanbases, and are an interest to me, but there is nothing else to say other than it is because they implement that formula so well that they’re so popular.
Perhaps the ultimate and final demonstration I’ll give of simplicity’s power is the well-beloved Conway’s Game of Life. It has four simple rules, but… well, I’m tired of writing, so I’ll let you see for yourself.