by Cuddy, Luke
Whether or not there really are other worlds, existing alongside our own, for the first time in human history we have games like those of the Halo series, which present an artificial turf, so to speak, where the idea of possible worlds can be explored. Although there are a number of fascinating metaphysical issues to be explored (concerning Halo, videogames, and possible worlds), as noted, I am interested in the use of this possibility for enlightenment oriented thinking and behavior in the Buddhist sense.
The fact that Halo games present the players with infinite lives gives them a lot of possible worlds to create. Most of the time, players are not aware that they are creating these worlds. They die, get angry, then reload their Shotgun and try again. But, as we’ve seen, each death represents another possible world, lost somewhere in virtual space and time once the player reverts to her previous checkpoint. The key element for Buddhism here is anger. The difficulty of some of the levels in Halo games, combined with the infinite lives/possible future scenario, makes players angry! Really angry! But what if this anger could be harnessed, or consciously mitigated? In that case, Halo might be seen as a tool for Buddhism, which advocates the mitigation of anger in general and, consequently, the growth of compassion.
Fuck This Game!
Consider the following scenario from Halo 3 multiplayer online:Scenario 3: I just picked up a Needler—an underrated weapon in my book, and there’s always the chance that you’ll get a one shot kill. LIT-TLESHIT232 47 comes at me, but I unload a barrage of pink spikes into him, head level, killing him instantly. Sensing an imminent threat I wheel around to see HAPPY_SMILE001 aiming a Brute Shot in my direction, but my Needler is quicker, and I still have enough ammo to take him out before he can finish me. I go on to have a great game, coming out in first place.
Now consider this:Scenario 4: I haven’t been playing multiplayer too long. Just long enough to get my UNSC Spartan Super Soldier patch. I’m feeling pretty confident. I just had a good game [described in scenario 3]. I know I’m not the best. But I’m getting better, improving. The new game starts, and immediately THEPDIDDY1200 melees me from the side. It’s okay, I tell myself, it’s only one frag. But then my next death comes from BIEBERBOT_41—he outsmarts me in a one-on-one with the Shotgun. The game continues on in this fashion—I almost get a kill, but then I die. Almost, then death. Finally, it looks like I’m going to get my first kill (everyone else has at least ten by now). I’m taking down The45YEAROLDVIRGIN and he’s almost dead, but then in comes THEPDIDDY1200 to take care of both of us. Fuck this game!
Halo multiplayer creates possible worlds in a different way than single player. Each, for instance, Slayer match can be seen as a possible world, whereas deaths do not create possible worlds. This is because each time the player dies it does not reset the match; the match continues since other players are there to inhabit the level on which it’s being played.
Here possible worlds contribute to the player’s generation of emotion in a different way. In single player, the possibilities are repeated over and over again as the player dies before the next checkpoint. But in multiplayer each death does not engender another possible world; it simply shows the player how bad he’s doing relative to other players in the match. In Slayer, possible worlds come into play in the reiteration of the same level. That is, after one match ends, another one will begin with different players. Although the players are variable, we can still consider multiple iterations of the same level possible worlds. All the other variables are the same, from the physical setting to the possible weapons and items. (Of course, if you’re playing Slayer with friends on split screen, then the players are the same.)
Scenario 4 above is likely familiar to any players of Halo multiplayer. While some of us might pride ourselves on skill, everyone has the occasional bad game, or games. Sometimes the possible worlds we create in multiplayer are all ones where THEPDIDDY1200 tramples us. This can make us as players very, very prone to emotion—particularly anger! Walk into a house where there’s a Halo tournament going on and, if you stay long enough, you’re bound to hear (repeatedly) the phrase scenario 4 ended with. Halo is intense, whether you’re playing single player or multiplayer. But before getting further in our analysis of Halo’s ability to generate emotions, we need to talk a bit about Buddhism.
Upaya and the Parable of the Burning House
When your small child is watching his older sister play Halo, and he asks whether the violence on the screen happens in real life, what do you tell him? Well, on the one hand, the violence on the screen is clearly simulated, so you can tell the child that it’s fake. But, on the other hand, the child did ask whether it happens in real life and, if history has taught us anything, violence does happen in real life. Humans kill other humans mercilessly. So what do you tell the child? Most parents would probably work out some compromise where they, in a nice way, tell the child something like this: “You see, son, violence does occur in real life, but it’s not like the human vs. Covenant violence on the screen, and, in real life, violence only occurs because of bad people.” Or, the parents would just lie.
The point is that sometimes it’s necessary to withhold some or all of the truth from a child because the truth is often harsh, and telling it to a child at a young age might damage his perception of reality. This is why parents don’t tell their child that Santa Claus doesn’t exist until she’s good and ready to hear it.
In Buddhism, there is something called “upāya.” From Sanskrit, it roughly translates as “skillful means.” One of the most common methods of getting this concept across is through the parable of the burning house from the Buddhist text The Lotus Sutra. This parable is the tale of a rich father who owns an old and decaying house filled with hundreds of people, including his sons. When a fire breaks out in the house the rich father thinks that he can escape to safety through the flaming gate, but his sons are inside playing games, completely unaware of the dire situation they are in. The father wonders how he’s going to get his sons out. He first decides to yell to them to come out but the sons are absorbed in their games and won’t listen. The father finally decides to employ some sort of skillful means to get his sons out of the house. He promises them goat-carts, deer-carts, and ox-carts if they leave. At this, the sons emerge from the house, demanding what was promised. But instead the rich man gives to each of his sons . . .a large carriage of uniform size and quality. The carriages were tall and spacious and adorned with numerous jewels. A railing ran all around them and bells hung from all four sides. A canopy was stretched over the top, which was also decorated with an assortment of precious jewels.... Each carriage was drawn by a white ox, pure and clean in hide, handsome in form and of great strength... At that time each of his sons mounted the large carriage, gaining something he had never had before, something he had originally never expected.48
The father employs skillful means in order to save his sons from burning to death. His sons are not coming out of that house, so the father engages in what some would call trickery. He promises his sons three kinds of carts to get their attention, then once they come outside to demand their carts, the father gives them an even greater gift: the large carriage. Plus, he has saved his sons from burning to death in the house. Trickery or not, the father’s perceptive knowledge of the mental states of his sons, and his subsequent ability to get them out of the house, is itself a skill—skillful means, upāya.
This parable is a metaphor for the Buddha’s relationship to all unenlightened beings. The Buddha is the father, trying to employ skillful means to bring his children (unenlightened beings) to enlightenment, to Buddhahood. But what is enlightenment? A difficult concept to get across, enlightenment is usually described as an eternal bliss or a state of mind brought on by a full understanding of illusions of the world around you.49 The burning house can be seen as the Saha-world, or the world of illusion created by the human mind. We’re hemmed in by this world of illusion we ourselves create, and the Buddha’s path can lead us out of this illusion, like
the father in the parable, using whatever means he can.
Can Halo be compared to the parable of the burning house? Is Halo upāyic? It might be illuminating to see how effectively we can create an analogy between Halo and the parable. While the analogy could never be perfect, it might help us understand Halo’s upāyic features. This requires an investigation into the game itself.
The Parable of the Burning Halo
The FPS games of the Halo series are videogames with two specific purposes: to defeat other players (in multiplayer) or to complete the storyline (in single player). Halo is a game of skill—a game of gradually increasing skill levels requiring fine-tuning. The more you play, the more you understand and appreciate subtle improvements in your ability, and the more you learn different strategies and how to implement them. In multiplayer, the game can be an intense duel between players or between teams of players. Each player’s score (the number of wins and losses) is tallied and appears onscreen after fragging someone or getting fragged.
The parable described above involves a house filled with hundreds of people. Well, Halo is a videogame filled with hundreds of people, at least in online play (though not always all at once). So the game itself (the environment the avatars inhabit) metaphorically represents the burning house.
But there is a fine distinction to be made here. The avatars are not quite analogous to the sons inhabiting the burning house. Rather, the human beings controlling the avatars from their consoles are the sons, the sons in need of saving. The avatars are actually Bodhisattvas, a term we’ll explain soon.
In the parable, the sons are promised goat-carts, deer-carts, and ox-carts if they leave the house. What is promised to the users of Halo? What is promised is the possibility of winning, mastering the game, whether it’s in the form of being the best at multiplayer or finishing all Halo single player games on legendary difficulty. The many ways of possible mastery are analogous to the multiple carts promised to the sons. As we’ve seen, there are subtle increases in skill level a player of Halo must undergo. It’s the possibility of full mastery of the game that is promised to the players of Halo (like being unbeatable on multiplayer), just as the various carts are promised to the sons in the parable.
Master Chief as Bodhisattva: More Buddhism
In Buddhism, a Bodhisattva is characterized by his or her motivation to lead others to enlightenment. A Bodhisattva seeks the enlightenment of all sentient beings, but has postponed her own enlightenment in order to help others reach it. And why should Halo gamers be exempt from the jurisdiction of a Bodhisattva? Gamers are, after all, sentient beings, and they need to be reached somehow. The Lotus Sutra makes it clear that all sentient beings have the capacity to realize enlightenment. What better way than through the assistance of the player’s onscreen incarnation, the avatar?
But what’s the nature of the relationship between player and avatar? This connection has been qualified in different ways by different theorists. Espen Aarseth suggests that “the user [player] assumes the role of the main character and, therefore, will not come to see this person as an other, or as a person at all, but rather as a remote-controlled extension of herself.”50 That the player will come to see the avatar as an other seems partly correct, but something’s missing. The relationship seems more complicated. Bob Rehak sees the player’s perception of the avatar as sliding between an intimate extension of self (when the user is playing well) to an inferior other (when the user is playing poorly).51 This characterization of the relationship is the one I find most accurate. And it is the fact that this sliding of perceptions of the avatar is possible that makes the avatar a Bodhisattva.
The player commonly goes back and forth between identifying with the avatar, Master Chief (or multiple avatars if he uses multiple videogames), and identifying with “who he is” in the real world (his ego). Maybe what the Bodhisattva avatar is trying to get the player to ask herself is “Who am I?” Maybe The Chief wants the player to have a crisis of identity, so to speak, because such a crisis will lead the player to see the true nature of her ego, which is empty in Buddhism.
The true nature of the ego is clarified by the Two-Fold Truth which says that there are two levels of truth, the conventional and the ultimate. At the conventional level of truth are seemingly solid objects like rocks and Halo 3 game boxes. This is the level at which most of us ordinarily experience the world. At the ultimate level of truth, however, everything is interconnected and there are no true “rocks” or “egos.” According to Buddhism, this interconnected level is the true state of things. By constantly sliding back and forth between identifying with an onscreen avatar and seeing it as an other, the player might eventually see the true nature of the ego as something that is necessary at the conventional level of truth but ultimately a delusion.
The player might begin to ask herself whether she is the avatar or her real world personality when she is playing as Master Chief. This question itself will open up other questions such as, “Who is my real world personality?” “Is the ego I project onto my avatar any more real than the ego I project onto my real world body?” By thinking and observing along these lines, the player will more easily see that her ego proper may be just as “virtual” as her avatar, and therefore illusory.
At least, we can guess in the context of the analogy, this is what the avatar Bodhisattva hopes to accomplish for the human player. Master Chief is a Bodhisattva insofar as he represents an incarnation of the player’s escape from delusion through the nature of the player’s sliding perceptions of himself as the avatar.
The question might arise as to how agency could be imputed to an entity in a videogame. The answer is that Master Chief is a Bodhisattva in that he is that part of the player that the player wishes to become. Because the player is intimately connected with the Chief, the Bodhisattva part of the player is projected onto his avatar. Thus, Master Chief is a Bodhisattva, guiding the player from within (in the sense of being part of the player) and from without (in the sense of being an onscreen entity). So when I wrote above that Master Chief “wants” the player to have a crisis of identity, I meant that a certain part of the player’s personality has this want. That is, the player himself has this want without knowing it.
But this is still only the beginning. Once the player sees that his ego is illusory, he still has a long way to go. He’s by no means enlightened, nor is he necessarily on the road to enlightenment. He has not even escaped the house yet. But, at the point of true egounderstanding, he has another goal in view: full mastery of the game. This he sees as his ultimate goal at this point.
Whereas in the parable of the burning house the father guides his sons out of the house, the metaphor breaks down when we try to consider who the father would be in Halo. The game designers? The best player in the game? However, that the gamer is being guided out by a kick-ass avatar Bodhisattva (Master Chief) makes us wonder if he really can guide players to enlightenment. If players see full mastery of the game as their ultimate goal, once they reach that point, maybe they’ll realize that there is something greater to be had outside the game, just as the children realize there is something greater to be had outside the burning house. This greater thing is Buddha Nature, the idea that every living being can reach enlightenment the way the Buddha did. Again, escaping the house is not itself enlightenment. It’s only the first step. But it seems like a good thing if Master Chief can even lead them to this point, doesn’t it?
The metaphor need not be perfect or exact to illustrate that Halo can have upāyic features. By taking a look at the concept of immersion, we can figure out what other upāyic features Halo might have.
Immersion, Anger, and Compassion
The first noble truth of Buddhism says that the condition of life is suffering, and the second says that we suffer due to our flaws and delusive thinking. One of the ways we suffer is because we get angry, so mitigating this anger is generally seen as a good thing in the eyes of Buddhism. Let’s return to Halo’s ability to generate stro
ng emotions in players due to the possible worlds it engenders. This possible worlds/infinite lives scenario can also lead to a strong sense of immersion in the game. Halo immerses you in the action; you as a player are intimately connected to the gameworld.
Immersion is a well-known phenomenon in videogames. In fact, strong immersion is often cited as the reason why violent videogames are so bad for the youth. If an eight-year-old child kills a Grunt while totally immersed in Halo: Combat Evolved, who’s to say that that sort of action will not translate to real life? If the child sees the Grunt’s life in the game as inconsequential, won’t he see life in reality as inconsequential also?
While these are legitimate concerns about videogames, they underscore the fact that people are capable of getting mentally, emotionally, and even physically immersed in videogames (just watch the way someone playing a racing game physically turns their body with every corner they turn onscreen). In the case of the child actually being led to devalue life in general, the immersion clearly leads to a negative outcome. But what if a person’s capacity for immersion could be used in a positive way? It seems to be that immersion itself is not a bad thing; like many other things, it is the way immersion is used that is important. One example of a positive use of immersion is Dr. Albert Rizzo’s company Virtually Better which modified the Xbox game Full Spectrum Warrior to create a strong sense of place to help victims of PTSD.52
Now, I have discussed the gradual skill level increases necessary to succeed at Halo. When you first start Halo, this can be very, very frustrating, particularly if you haven’t played any other FPS. You can barely figure out how to switch weapons and you have to compete against more experienced players who will not only kill you, but dance around on your avatar’s corpse. It’s like being a beginning guitar player who is expected to compete with Eric Clapton: it’s demoralizing and seems impossible.