Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:


The video game world was buzzing last week following the New York legislature's passage of a video game statute. In voting overwhelmingly for the bill, New York became the first state to pass a video game law since June, 2006 when lawmakers in Oklahoma, Louisiana and Minnesota all sent restrictive game legislation to their respective governors for signature. The video game industry opposed all of those laws, of course, on constitutional grounds. Since Gov. David Paterson is expected to sign the New York bill into law, there's a natural assumption that the industry will also drag the Empire State into federal court.

But maybe not.

While earlier state laws placed content-based restrictions on video game sales, New York's proposed statute does no such thing. It is largely symbolic, perhaps designed to persuade voters that legislators are doing something to address that familiar cultural whipping boy, video game violence.

So, how impotent is the New York law?

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

Unless you've been watching Grand Theft Auto IV trailers nonstop for the last few weeks, you probably know that game publishing giant Electronic Arts is attempting an "all your base are belong to us" maneuver on GTA series publisher Take Two interactive.

Captained by new CEO John Riccitiello, EA launched its acquisition campaign in February by offering a bonus of 60% over Take Two's then share price. T2, led by chairman Strauss Zelnick, told EA to stick it, at least until after next week's GTA IV release. EA then appealed directly to Take Two shareholders. So far, however, that strategy is not working out. EA has accumulated less than 10% of the outstanding T2 stock and has been forced to extend its deadline until May 16th.

It's unclear how this will play out, of course. But let's hope it ends badly for EA. While acquiring Take Two may line the pockets of a few fat cat investors and transform some workaday EA execs into game industry Big Swinging Dicks, there's no way in Hell that this deal is good for gamers.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

If you pay attention to the First Amendment arguments offered in defense of video games, you'll often hear reference to something called the "slippery slope." This does not refer to a downhill run in a new snowboarding game. The term is often used to warn against those who promise they will only censor us a little bit. For example, passing laws restricting video game sales might not seem to impact society at large, but it starts us down that slippery slope of censorship. Who knows where it might end? This month Grand Theft Auto IV might be restricted, but what do the hypocritical politicians and culture cops target next? Halo 3? Hip-hop? Comic books? Ulysses?

The video game industry is facing a bit of a slippery slope problem right now in Massachusetts – and it is, to a certain extent, their own fault. There, Mayor Thomas Menino is pushing legislation which would classify violent games as "harmful to minors" in the same legal sense as porn. Unlike most politicians, the blustering Menino freely tosses around the word "ban" and seems intent on enforcing his worldview on the population of Massachusetts. He recently told a Boston radio station, "Kids start at five, six, seven years old watching those video games. They think it's a way of life and I'm trying to make them understand there's a different way of life."

The Menino way, apparently.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

The video game industry finally stood up for itself this week when Electronic Arts called Fox News out over the network's lies about Mass Effect.

It's about time.

The theme of this column, in fact, was going to be a rant about game companies laying low and relying upon gamers to defend the industry against such controversies. By stepping up, EA ruined that column idea for me, but I'm glad they did.

It was great to see VP Jeff Brown pull no punches in protesting Fox News' Mass Effect hatchet job. Brown got it exactly right, pointing out that Live Desk anchor Martha MacCallum and guest Cooper Lawrence were dead wrong in their characterization of the game as, essentially, interactive porn. Brown also took Fox News to task for institutional hypocrisy. As the EA exec pointed out, Fox lambasted the critically-acclaimed Mass Effect over a single, tastefully done love scene, while nightly serving up far more suggestive fare on prime-time shows like Family Guy and The O.C..

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

It may be Game Over for 2007, but the political ripples of the past twelve months will be felt long into the New Year. And while Jack Thompson made a lot of noise – as usual – the culture war over video games extended far beyond the city limits of Miami. It was, more than ever before, truly an international struggle as game violence raised concerns among politicians in Italy, Germany, Australia, Singapore, New Zealand, Holland, Mexico, Chile and elsewhere. Even Pope Benedict XVI took time to criticize video game violence.

There were controversial games aplenty, led of course, by Manhunt 2. In June, Rockstar's controversial title was officially banned in Britain and effectively deep-sixed in the United States thanks to the sales-killing Adults Only label slapped on by the ESRB. Rockstar eventually made sufficient changes to get Manhunt 2 onto U.S. store shelves. At that point we learned that the controversy was far more interesting than the game itself, which garnered lukewarm reviews. As 2007 winds down, Rockstar still faces a court fight to get Manhunt 2 released in the U.K.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

A lot of nasty stuff is happening in the world these days: war, poverty, terrorism, racism, and the collapse of the housing market, to name just a few.

And yet Mitt Romney, the pretty boy among Republican presidential candidates, has time to fret about the cartoon violence in video games and other forms of media. Okay, he's entitled to his view. But his view looks hypocritical - even bizarre - when you consider the fact that real-world torture is okay with Mitt.

If you caught the recent CNN/YouTube Republican debate, you saw Romney refuse to condemn the use of waterboarding as an interrogation technique. Now, waterboarding is acknowledged as a form of torture all over the world, except for two places: the Bush White House and Romney campaign headquarters.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

There's the Jelly-of-the-Month club, and then there's Manhunt 2.

Like the el Cheapo holiday bonus which sparked Clark Griswold's comic spazzout in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, Rockstar's blood-soaked game is truly the gift that keeps on giving.

Manhunt 2, of course, has provoked more than a few spazzouts of its own recently. And while the most frothy barking has originated in Miami, Jack Thompson isn't the only one riding the Manhunt 2 gravy train these days – far from it. The game has, of course, earned Thompson a few more of his precious TV appearances, even while the Florida Bar seeks to dispossess him of his license to practice law. But the media – both the video game press and mainstream variety – have had a field day with it as well.

Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

Suddenly, surprisingly, the UK has become Ground Zero in the political and cultural war surrounding video games.

For a long time, England was a backwater in this fight. The video game struggle raged primarily in state legislatures and federal courthouses around the United States. Oh, there was Keith Vaz, of course, a Labour Parliamentarian who made some noise about the original Manhunt in 2004 and would occasionally surface to criticize this game or that.

But in 2007 the video game issue simply exploded in the UK as one major game controversy after another made headlines. At the same time, game legislation tailed off in the US. While six states passed laws in 2005-2006, none have been passed so far this year. American politicians, seemingly, are getting the message that games are protected by the First Amendment. Not so in Britain, however.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

Once again, Miami attorney Jack Thompson is attempting to have a video game -- Halo 3 this time -- declared a public nuisance. He failed badly in such an attempt in 2006 with Rockstar's Bully.

Under Florida law the term "public nuisance" is generally applied to the likes of brothels and illegal gambling operations, things which, as the law states:

"...tend to annoy the community, injure the health of the citizens in general, or corrupt the public morals..."

It's difficult to imagine anyone but Thompson trying to shoehorn a video game into that legal definition. But this isn't really about public nuisances, or even Halo 3.

It's video game legislation -- through the backdoor.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

Somewhere in the mountains of Pakistan, Osama bin Laden is lounging in a cave, chuckling into his goat stew.

It's surely a well-equipped cave, complete with all of the electronic accoutrements one might expect a modern terrorist CEO to have: satellite phone, laptop, plasma TV, GPS. Hell, OBL maybe even has a Wii or a PS3 running on a generator for little Osama.

Here at home, it has been nearly six years since that terrible, gut-wrenching day when World Trade Center towers came crashing down. Six freaking years, and the mightiest military and law enforcement apparatus in the world can't find one sickly, middle-aged guy hiding in a cave.

But they can find American citizens, hiding in plain sight in places like Ohio, Iowa and Hawaii.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

The new head of the video game publishers' association actually plays video games!

Who knew?

I certainly didn't when I wrote a snarky advice column to incoming ESA president Mike Gallagher during his first week on the job. But, two months into his tenure, I like what I see. I'm willing to bet a lot of other gamers do, too.

In fact, we should create some kind of JFK award for the guy just for having the guts to stand up and proclaim, "ich bin ein gamer." In interviews, the new ESA boss immediately outed himself as the setup man for the office multiplayer Doom network when he worked as a congressional staffer. Of course, I had a great deal of respect for Gallagher's ESA predecessor, but Doug Lowenstein wouldn't know a space marine from the man in the moon. He was no gamer. To his credit, he didn't pretend to be. But it feels better to have someone who is in gut-level touch with the medium at the industry's helm.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

Perception is reality, except when it isn't. And in the case of Manhunt 2, it's not as easy as you may think to pick out the winners and losers from this week's craziness.

Start with the Adults Only rating that the ESRB slapped on Manhunt 2. That may seem like a bad thing, but it's not. Just as new NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell recently cracked down on thug players for the good of the sport, the ESRB needed to prove to parents and politicians that the video game industry could police itself. By assigning an AO to Manhunt 2 ESRB president Patricia Vance certainly did just that. Surely new ESA top dog Mike Gallagher was in on the final decision as well.

In any case, Gallagher and Vance did what needed to be done. The bottom line is that the industry comes out smelling like a rose. And -- bonus cliché -- the proverbial line in the sand has now been drawn. While some content creators will understandably chafe at any sort of limits, the fact is that video games are not only big business but a form of entertainment which people invite into their homes. There needs to be a certain amount of public trust. Designers who can't deal with the realities of the market are welcome to go the Ryan Lambourn route.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

The following is an IM exchange that I wish I had with Michael Gallagher, who took over as new head of the ESA on Tuesday:


Me: yo, u there?

ESA n00b: yup

Me: how's the new office?

ESA n00b: nice, but @#%$!*&!&! Lowenstein took the stapler with him ...

Me: bummer. Did he leave any CD's around? Doug was big into 70's music.

ESA n00b: no CD's ... just an autographed picture of some guy named Thompson

Me: ewww .... Want some advice?

ESA n00b: um ... sure

Me: I know you're hired to represent the big game publishers, but don't forget about the gamers

ESA n00b: wait now, the who????

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:

School shooting? Mass murder? Horrific homicide?

If the killer is of a certain age, video games are sure to be blamed, at least in certain quarters. But that age might be older than you think. When pundits, culture cops and massacre chasers espouse their theories about the forces that drive real-world killers, exactly how old does the perpetrator need to be before video games get a pass?

Based on recent events, that magic number is ... 30. As Joystiq readers know, it's practically a given these days that video games will be mentioned anytime there's a school shooting. But what if the shooter is no kid?

Consider that Cho Seung-Hui, the Virginia Tech killer, was 23.

Kimveer Gill, who shot up Montreal's Dawson College last year, was 26.

Kevin Ray Underwood, 26, butchered a little girl in April of 2006.

Charles McCoy was 29 when police arrested him in 2004 for a series of sniper shootings along interstates in Ohio.

Each week Dennis McCauley contributes The Political Game, a column on the collision of politics and video games:
You can draw a picture of your school.

You can sketch it in charcoal or paint it in bright pastels or subdued watercolors. You can take an artsy black-and-white photograph of your school or a high-pixel color shot with the sunset in the background. Frame it, crop it for a web page or iron it onto the front of a t-shirt. But whatever you do, however you choose to express yourself, do not recreate your school building within a video game.

That's the lesson coming out of Texas, and it's a hard one for 17-year-old Paul Hwang, a senior at Clements High in Fort Bend. By all accounts a decent kid, Hwang was adept enough with Counter-Strike's built-in level design tools to map his school. His handiwork is quite detailed and rather impressive. Joystiq, in fact, posted some screenshots of his level design yesterday.