作者：Soren Johnson

没有什么比玩家选择的重要性更能定义电子游戏。互动性将游戏与电影和文学等静态艺术区分开来，如果评论家指责《亲爱的艾斯特》等游戏体验“并不是真正的游戏”，那这通常都是因为它们缺少有意义的玩家选择。

然而，因为选择被游戏设计师们当成一种典范（伴随着像“授权玩家代理”和“放弃原创性”等短语），所以在开发过程中他们往往都会忽视选择的负面性。实际上，每当设计师添加更多选择到游戏中时，他们就需要做出一定的权衡。

local-web-design-choice-paralysis(from redhotsalesletters)

作为一种新选择的结果，游戏获得了某种程度的玩家粘性，但却也付出了其它代价。这些代价常常会因为太多时间，太多复杂性或太多的重复性而被组合在一起——甚至会大大超过额外选择的正面价值。

太多时间

如果游戏可以压缩成一次方程式，那么有可能的等式便是（所有的乐趣）=（有意义的决策）/（所花费的时间）。换句话说，对于两款带有相同玩家选择水平的游戏来说，需要较少时间的游戏往往更有趣。当然，通常这种比较都不明显；一个新的功能将添加一个有意义的决策，但这是否值得添加额外的时间到游戏过程中？

举个例子来说吧，《Dice Wars》和《Risk》都是关于征服领土的游戏，但却给出了不同的答案。在这两款游戏中，玩家通过掷骰子攻击彼此，胜者将在下一回合的开始获得额外军队作为奖励。在《Risk》中，玩家需要决定在哪里放置这些军队，基于当下的情境看来这将是有意义的选择。而在《Dice Wars》中，军队则是由游戏随机放置的，并因此加快了游戏速度。

到底哪种设计才是正确的？关于这一问题的答案其实很主观，不过对此的相关问题在于如果玩家花时间去安排自己的新军队，那么战斗决策是否会更有意义，或者会变得多有意义。不管怎样，在《Risk》中玩家可以追求更有目的性的策略，但是否这就值得他们花费更多额外的时间？

答案取决于用户（游戏邦注：《Dice Wars》是一款休闲Flash游戏，而《Risk》则是一款传统的桌面游戏），但是设计师应该理解他们决定的分叉。有时候，在《Risk》中的军队设置可能是一种生硬的决定，有时候在《Dice Wars》中对意外的管理做出回应会引起一种全新且更多元化的乐趣。最终，《Risk》必须向用户证明他们延长游戏时间的做法是合理的。

太多复杂性

除了时间花费，每个呈献给玩家的选择都附带着有关额外复杂性的认知负荷，需要进行有效的权衡。更多选择意味着玩家将更难做出决定；决定研究5个不同的技术与在50个技术中做出选择是完全不同的。玩家不只会担心自己选择了什么，同时也会担心他们没选择什么，如果他们面临了更多选择，他们就有更多担心的理由。

每种游戏类型都带有选择数目（即确保游戏的有效管理）的有效点，足以成为一个有趣的决定，并且不会压得玩家喘不过气。在过去几十年里暴雪的RTS会在每次回合都支持一定数量的单位；《星际争霸》，《魔兽争霸3》和《星际争霸2》的每个派别平均都拥有12个单位。对于第三款游戏，设计师更是明确说明了他们为了给新单位腾出更多空间而删除了一些旧单位。

的确，RTS作为一种游戏类型正遭受着来自更受欢迎的新兴游戏类型MOBA的攻击，这种游戏的主要代表有《英雄联盟》和《Dota 2》。MOBA是源自《魔兽争霸3》的mod：Defense of the Ancients，其游戏方法与RTS类似，除了玩家只能控制一个英雄而非整个军队之外。

这种改变通过降低了复杂性以及玩家所负荷的认知需求而拓宽了潜在的用户。比起需要管理大量的矿山，兵营，劳工和士兵（就像在经典的RTS中那样），玩家只需要担心一个角色便可。通过让摄像机锁定玩家的英雄而不是自由地穿梭于地图中（后者将赋予玩家更多压力去集中注意力）能够有效实现UI的简化。

当然，这种改变也会带走RTS游戏中许多有意义的选择。玩家不能再决定该将建筑放置在哪里，该使用怎样的技术，该瞄准哪个单位甚至该在哪里发送它们；游戏剥夺了所有的这些选择。再一次，这里所存在的相关问题也是关于这些被剥夺的决定是否等价于它们添加到一款经典RTS的大量复杂性。

而MOBA的成功证实了，尽管玩家喜欢RTS游戏中大规模实时战斗的刺激与壮观，但是他们却并不喜欢游戏要求自己去控制每一个元素。设计师Cliff Harris讨论了有关自己成功的RTS游戏《Gratuitous Space Battles》中一个类似的点，即允许玩家在战斗过程中控制任何单位：“《GSB》并不会要求你在一个复杂的战斗中控制300艘星舰。它容许你做不到这点，因此并不会将其作为一个选择。有些人讨厌它。但是有超过10万的人喜欢它并愿意购买它，所以我并不是唯一带有这一想法的人。”

太多重复性

太多玩家选择可能会不利于游戏体验的最后一点可能会让人略感惊讶，但的确拥有太多自由的游戏将会趋于不断重复。典型的例子便是，游戏在不同过程中呈献给玩家广泛但却静态的选择菜单；玩家通常都会创造出一套自己喜欢的选择组合，并专注于游戏空间中的一个小角落中。

有时候，如果玩家需要对各种环境做出反应，那么一套固定的选择便能发挥作用；《文明》中的随机地图便将玩家固定在技术指数的不同地方。但是几乎所有的游戏都可以从减少一些玩家选择去提高整体多样性而受益。

例如在《Atom Zombie Smasher》中，玩家将使用3种特殊的武器（如狙击枪，混凝土或锁）将平民从僵尸所带来的城市灾难中拯救出来。但是玩家需要在每次任务中，从8种武器里随机选择3种武器，即意味着玩家对于当前武器所做出的反应与城市布局或僵尸行为是同等的。比起基于一个特定且喜欢的组合，玩家必须学着创造不同寻常的组合，这便意味着游戏玩法将会不断变化。

同样地在《FTL》中，队员，武器和升级也会在不同游戏间发生改变，这主要是取决于随机生成商店所提供的内容。因此，游戏并不是关于发现并完善一个单一的策略，而是基于可用道具找到最佳方向。简单地来说，《Atom Zombie Smasher》和《FTL》的游戏玩法多样性是源自设计师限制玩家选择的决定。

而在另一头，带有巨大定制系统的游戏通常会退化为一些不切实际的选择，从而剥夺了其关联性的灵活系统。在《Alpha Centauri》中，玩家使用Unit Workshop去创造带有不同单位和能力的单位。但是最有影响力的组合很快便显现出来，并排斥了这一功能。

因此给予玩家太多控制（带有太多选择和代理）将会降低游戏的重玩价值。如果《暗黑破坏神》的玩家不能选择自己的技能的话游戏的乐趣是会增加还是减少？当然，如果失去一些特定的进程游戏便会变得不同，并会因此失去许多资深玩家，但是新的多样性也会吸引其它想要获得更加多样游戏体验的用户的注意。随机分布的技能也许会推动玩家去探索自己从未经历过的其它领域。重要的是这种有意义的玩家选择并不会破坏游戏。

从根本上看来，游戏设计便是关于一系列权衡，设计师们必须意识到选择本身只是游戏设计中的一大元素，需要与其它元素相平衡。尽管玩家控制是游戏的核心力量，但是它也不能超越其它元素，如简洁，优雅和多样性等等。

（本文为游戏邦/gamerboom.com编译，拒绝任何不保留版权的转载，如需转载请联系：游戏邦）

GD Column 25: When Choice is Bad

by Soren Johnson

Nothing defines video games more than the importance of player choice. Interactivity is what separates games from static arts like film and literature, and when critics accuse a digital experience like Dear Esther of being “not really a game,” it is usually from a lack of meaningful player choice.

However, because choice is held up as such an ideal among game designers – armed with phrases like “enabling player agency” and “abdicating authorship” – the downside of choice is often ignored during development, hiding in a designer’s blind spot. In fact, every time a designer adds more choice to a game, a tradeoff is being made.

The game gains a degree of player engagement as a result of the new option but at the cost of something else. These costs can commonly be group together as either too much time, too much complexity, or too much repetition – all of which can far outweigh the positive qualities of the extra choice.

Too Much Time

If games can be reduced to a simple equation, a possible equivalence would be (total fun) = (meaningful decisions) / (time played). In other words, for two games with similar levels of player choice, the one which takes less actual time to play will be more fun. Of course, usually the comparison will not be so obvious; a new feature will add a meaningful decision, but is it worth the extra time added to the play session?

As an example, Dice Wars and Risk are similar games of territorial conquest which answer this question differently. In both games, players attack each other by rolling dice, and the victors are rewarded with extra armies at the start of their next turn. In Risk, the player decides where to place these armies, which can be a meaningful decision depending on the current situation. In Dice Wars, however, the armies are placed randomly by the game, and the result is a much faster game.

Which design is right? While the answer is subjective, the relevant question to ask is whether the combat decisions become more meaningful if the player takes the time arrange her new armies – or, as is likely, how much more meaningful they become. After all, the player can pursue a more intentional strategy in Risk, but is that aspect worth the not insignificant extra time taken by the army placement phase?

The answer may depend on the audience (Dice Wars is a casual Flash game while Risk is a traditional board game), but the designers should understand the ramifications of their decisions. Sometimes, army placement in Risk can be a rote decision, and sometimes, reacting to an unexpected arrangement in Dice Wars can lead to a new, more dynamic type of fun. Ultimately, the aspects of Risk which lengthen the play session must justify the time they cost to the audience.

Too Much Complexity

Besides its cost in time, each choice presented to the player also carries a cognitive load in added complexity that must be weighed in the balance. More options mean more indecision; deciding between researching five different technologies feels much different than choosing between fifty. Players worry not just about what they are choosing but also about what they are not choosing, and the more options they decline, the more reason there is to worry.

Each type of game has a sweet spot for the number of options that keep play manageable, enough to be an interesting decision but not too many to overwhelm the player. Blizzard RTS’s have maintained a constant number of units per race for decades; StarCraft, Warcraft 3, and StarCraft 2 all averaged 12 units per faction. For the third game, the designers explicitly stated that they removed old units to make room for new ones.

Indeed, RTS games as a genre are under assault from their more popular upstart progeny, the MOBA genre, best exemplified by League of Legends and Dota 2. The original MOBA was a Warcraft 3 mod entitled Defense of the Ancients, which played out like an RTS except that the player only controlled a single hero instead of an entire army.

This twist broadened the potential audience by radically reducing the complexity and, thus, the cognitive demands placed on the player. Instead of needing to manage a vast collection of mines and barracks and peons and soldiers, as in a typical RTS, the player only needed to worry about a single character. Consider the UI simplifications made possible by allowing the camera to lock onto the player’s hero instead of roaming freely across the map, which forced the player to make stressful decisions about managing his attention.

Of course, this change did take away many of the meaningful choices found in an RTS. Players no longer decide where to place buildings or what technologies to research or what units to train or even where to send them; all these choices were either abstracted away or managed by the game instead. Again, the relevant question is whether these lost decisions were worth the massive amount of complexity they added to a typical RTS.

The success of MOBA’s demonstrate that although players enjoy the thrill and spectacle of the large-scale real-time battles pioneered by RTS games, they do not necessarily enjoy the intense demands of trying to control every aspect of the game. Designer Cliff Harris discussed a similar point for his successful alt-RTS Gratuitous Space Battles, which does not allow the player any control of units during combat: “GSB does not pretend you can control 300 starships in a complex battle. It admits you can’t, and thus doesn’t make it an option. Some people hate it. Over 100,000 enjoyed it enough to buy it, so I can’t be the only person with this point of view.“

Too Much Repetition

The final way that too much player choice can negatively affect the game experience is perhaps a bit surprising, but games with too much freedom can suffer from becoming repetitive. A typical example is when a game presents the player with an extensive but ultimately static menu of choices session after session; players often develop a set of favorite choices and get stuck in that small corner of the game space.

Sometimes, a fixed set of options can work if the player needs to react to a variety of environments; the random maps in a Civilization game can prod the player down different parts of the technology tree. However, almost all games could probably benefit from reducing some player choice to increase overall variety.

Consider Atom Zombie Smasher, a game in which players use up to three special weapons (such as snipers or mortars or blockades) to help rescue civilians from a city overrun by zombies. However, these three weapons are randomly chosen before each mission from a set of eight, which means the player reacts as much to the current selection of weapons as to the city layout or zombie behavior. Instead of relying on a particular favorite combination, the player must learn to make unusual combinations work, which means the gameplay is constantly shifting.

Similarly, in FTL, the crew members and weapons and upgrades available change from game to game, depending on what the randomly generated shops provide. Thus, the game is not about discovering and perfecting a single strategy but about finding the best path based on the tools available. Put simply, the variety of gameplay in Atom Zombie Smasher and FTL emerges because the designers limited player choice.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, games with hefty customization systems usually devolve into a few ideal choices, robbing the flexible systems of their relevance. In Alpha Centauri, players used the Unit Workshop to create units with different values and abilities. However, the most effective combinations soon became obvious, marginalizing this feature.

Thus, giving the player too much control – with too many options and too much agency – can reduce a game’s replayability. Indeed, would Diablo be more or less fun if players couldn’t actually choose their skills? The game would certainly feel different as the loss of intentional progression would turn off many veterans, but the new variety might attract others looking for a more dynamic experience. Randomly distributed skills might force players to explore sections of the tree they would have never experienced otherwise. The important fact is that this loss of meaningful player choice would not necessarily hurt the game.

Ultimately, game design is a series of tradeoffs, and designers should recognize that choice itself is just one more factor that must be balanced with everything else. Even though player control is core to the power of games, it does not necessarily trump all the other factors, such as brevity, elegance, and variety.(source:design-notes)