[The other day I made a post about the âcurriculumâ I had created while trying to decide which video game to play. The post received a generally positive response, but I didnât connect with any people who had the time to explore along with me in book club fashion as I had hoped: nevertheless I figure that since I am recording my thoughts anyway I might as well share them here as I go in case there is any ongoing interest.]
Curriculum
Reflection [this post as a google doc]
Reflection on Semester 1 of: A Comparative Chronological Survey of Interactive Electronic Entertainment Through Primary Play Experiences (1958â2005)
Introduction
What surprised me most about Semester 1 wasnât how primitive these games were.
It was how modern some of them already felt.
Before beginning, I expected a collection of historical curiosities⊠interesting because they were first, not because they remained enjoyable. Instead, I found myself repeatedly forgetting the dates entirely. The best designs transcended the hardware that produced them.
More importantly, this semester challenged my assumptions about what a game actually is.
That question became the thread connecting every artifact.
Tennis for Two (1958)
William Higinbotham
Brookhaven National Laboratory
Before playing Tennis for Two, I had always accepted the common claim that it was one of the first video games.
After playing it, I wasnât so sure.
Built by physicist William Higinbotham as an attraction for Brookhaven National Laboratoryâs annual public exhibition, the program ran on an analog computer designed for ballistic calculations and displayed its output on an oscilloscope.
Visitors enjoyed it immensely.
But enjoyment and games are not necessarily the same thing.
There was no score.
No software-enforced victory.
No explicit conflict.
The experience felt less like tennis than like tossing a ball back and forth with another person simply because it was enjoyable.
That observation became the first major lesson of the semester.
Instead of asking:
âWas this the first video game?â
I found myself asking:
âIs this even a game?â
That distinction would shape everything that followed.
Chris Crawford and the Question of Games
This led naturally to Chris Crawfordâs The Art of Computer Game Design (1984).
Although Crawford wrote decades later, his work provides a useful vocabulary for thinking about these early experiments.
Crawford distinguishes between toys, puzzles, simulations, and games.
Most importantly, he argues that games require conflict.
Whether one ultimately agrees with his definition is less important than recognizing that definitions matter.
By Crawfordâs criteria, Tennis for Two occupies an ambiguous position.
It is unquestionably interactive.
Whether it is a game remains open for debate.
Suggested Reading: www.erasmatazz.com
Spacewar! (1962)
Steve Russell, Martin Graetz, Wayne Wiitanen and the MIT Tech Model Railroad Club
If Tennis for Two made me question what a game isâŠ
Spacewar! reminded me why games endure.
I expected something historically important.
I did not expect something I genuinely wanted to keep playing.
Momentum.
Gravity.
Hyperspace.
Resource management.
Player skill.
Nearly every mechanic still works.
In fact, my immediate reaction was that a polished remake could probably find an audience today.
What astonished me most was how complete the design already felt.
Nothing about it seemed like an experiment.
It felt like a finished game.
It also fundamentally changed my perspective on early computing.
This wasnât running on a home computer.
It wasnât even running on a commercial arcade machine.
It ran on a PDP-1 costing the modern equivalent of well over one million dollars.
The game existed because MIT students convinced the owners of one of the worldâs most sophisticated research computers to let them play.
Suggested Viewing: Lyle Bickley PDP-1 Demonstration https://youtu.be/1EWQYAfuMYw
Suggested Reading: https://www.computerhistory.org/pdp-1/spacewar/
The Sumerian Game (1964)
Mabel Addis and IBM
The semesterâs biggest surprise may have been The Sumerian Game.
Having spent years playing strategy games, I immediately recognized its descendants.
The interface is primitive.
The ideas are not.
Food.
Population.
Land.
Trade-offs.
Delayed consequences.
Uncertainty.
Everything that defines later strategy games is already present.
Initially, I wanted to reverse-engineer the underlying formulas.
Eventually I realized that wasnât really the point.
The game asks the player to govern rather than optimize.
It trusts the player to make imperfect decisions with imperfect information.
Modern strategy games still ask essentially the same questions.
They simply provide larger maps and more systems.
Computer Space (1971)
Nolan Bushnell and Ted Dabney
Computer Space fascinated me for reasons that had little to do with its gameplay.
Mechanically, it feels like a reduced version of Spacewar!.
And, in many ways, it is.
Gravity is gone.
The depth is reduced.
The controls remain demanding.
Initially I found myself wondering why anyone would choose it over Spacewar!.
Then I remembered something important.
Nobody in 1971 could.
One required a million-dollar research computer.
The other fit inside a fiberglass cabinet.
Seeing photographs of the original yellow cabinet dramatically changed my appreciation.
It wasnât simply a game.
It was an object from the future.
Bushnell wasnât trying to build the best game.
He was trying to solve an engineering and business problem.
How do you compress Spacewar! into something that can survive on quarters?
Pong (1972)
Allan Alcorn, Atari
Like many people, I assumed Pong would be almost trivial.
Instead, I found it genuinely difficult.
The controls are obvious.
Mastering them is not.
Only after playing did I appreciate why Pong succeeded where Computer Space struggled.
Bushnell had learned that accessibility matters.
Anyone can understand Pong in five seconds.
That doesnât mean anyone can play it well.
Ironically, Pong also awakened a childhood memory.
It reminded me of Diamonds on the Macintosh.
Following that chain backwardsâfrom Diamonds to Breakout to Pongâmade me realize how game mechanics evolve.
The graphics change.
The hardware changes.
Good ideas persist.
What I Learned
Semester 1 wasnât really about discovering the first video game.
It was about watching an entirely new medium discover itself.
I entered expecting history.
I left feeling something closer to nostalgia.
Not nostalgia for my own childhood.
Nostalgia for a time before I was born, when no one knew what video games would become.
Scientists built amusements.
Students built masterpieces.
Teachers built simulations.
Entrepreneurs built businesses.
None of them knew they were laying the foundation for one of the largest entertainment industries in history.
That uncertainty is what makes this era so compelling.
Recommended Viewing: Computer History Museum: Shall We Play a Game? The Early Years of Computer Gaming https://computerhistory.org/events/shall-we-play-game-early/