Retired Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor lamented in a June
2008 Wired interview that "Only one-third of Americans can name the
three branches of government... but two-thirds can name a judge on
American Idol." Due to her concerns regarding civics education
exemplified in the statement above, the retired justice envisioned an
interactive educational program that would help teach middle school
students about the US government. The first concrete element of this
vision, OurCourts.org, launched in February of 2009, and in August 2009
the website released two free online games: Supreme Decision and Do I
Have A Right?OurCourts.org states, "A growing body of research shows that games have extraordinary potential for promoting learning and civic engagement," but do the games released by Our Courts live up to this potential? In this article I will review Do I Have A Right? (hereafter referred to as DIHAR) and discuss how the elements within the game promote learning and civic engagement. This is accomplished through a few methods, but what appears most effective is that the game builds civic literacy by harnessing the natural process of learning that takes place when a player first picks up a new game.
DIHAR begins with the player choosing one of four pre-made
character models of varying race and gender. The light-hearted feel of
the game is immediately evident: character models are cartoon-like,
brightly-colored with giant heads. A lively acoustic guitar riff loops
in the background. Subtler elements also contribute to the fun of the
game. For instance, when you select a particular character, the rest of
the models frown and look disappointed. All of these elements work
together to keep the user engaged from the beginning.
At
the next screen, the player is required to enter his or her name and
choose a partner from the two available at the start. After choosing
one, the player is given a little more information about their
partner's skill. Each partner has expertise in an area within a
particular Amendment, indicated by an icon with a boxed number
corresponding to the relevant Amendment. The player is also given a
summary of the Amendment's purpose and powers. After this, the player
is sent into the law office on the first day, where the majority of
gameplay takes place.
If the client leaves in this way or if the lawyer loses the case -- oftentimes due to a client-lawyer mismatch -- the player loses prestige points. If the client is successfully matched with the right lawyer and the lawyer wins the case, the player gains prestige points. These points can be used between work days to hire more lawyers, upgrade the waiting area (increasing both the number of seats and the time clients are willing to wait before storming off), upgrade desks (increase the trial prep speed), or purchase an ad in the paper (increase the amount of clients). At the end of each work day, a newspaper appears on screen with articles detailing your firm's successes and failures.
This gameplay appears to be influenced by the popular web-based casual game Diner Dash. Once the game gets going, the player spends much of his or her time juggling clients from seat to seat, quickly clicking around the law office to match each client with the proper lawyer to efficiently finish as many cases as possible before any waiting clients get angry and leave. The player also spends a sizable part of the game choosing upgrades and deciding which lawyers to hire. In many respects, it feels like a conventional business / management game except that upgrades are only available in between work days.
After reading the past few paragraphs it may appear as though DIHAR
has very little to do with constitutional law and may be failing in its
attempt to educate the user; however, this actually reveals a strength
in the game's design. The civics knowledge, which is central to the
purpose of the game, is not the central guiding element of the game's
design. Instead, the game has drawn effective design elements from
another game and placed constitutional information as the theme of one
of these elements, as opposed to shoehorning the design to beat the
user over the head with a steady stream of constitutional facts.
A reason this method may be so effective is because it maps the content that is supposed to be learned onto the natural learning that takes place over the course of any game. In James Paul Gee's essay "Semiotic Domains: Is Playing Video Games a 'Waste of Time?'" Gee states that when "people learn to play video games, they are learning a new literacy." This is not print literacy. Players become literate in the different meanings of the symbols within a game and the relationship between those symbols. For instance, in DIHAR the player learns that an icon with the number 4 indicates that the associated lawyer can be matched to a client with an unlawful search complaint.
What's interesting in DIHAR is that, by attaching educational content that is meant to be used outside of the game to symbols that must be learned and used within the game, the literacy that the player gains within the game world can then be taken outside of the game and easily used in the real world. This is particularly effective in DIHAR because the in game content has a real world parallel. As in the example stated above, the number 4 and unlawful searches have a real world parallel in the 4th Amendment. The player is able to take this literacy learned in the semiotic domain of this game and apply that literacy to the semiotic domain of civics.
Gee also describes how learning a semiotic domain in a more active way, as through a video game, involves three things: "experiencing the world in a new way, forming new affiliations, and preparation for further learning." What's interesting about this idea is how easily these attributes could be applied to civics education. As a citizen becomes more literate in civics, they experience the world in new ways (understanding Rights reveals the legal limits and allowances), form new affiliations (political affiliations), and prepare for further learning (civics is an ongoing process of learning). One does not come to understand civics by simply reading the Constitution, but rather by contextually learning how the Constitution is actively used. Perhaps this is another reason that the design method works so effectively: the semiotic domain in which the player is supposed to be educated is one that lends itself to active participation.
The
game is not without flaws. For instance, not all the Rights and
Amendments are covered in the game. Also, some issues seem to appear a
disproportionate amount of the time, and some of the client's problems,
such as 3rd Amendment issues pertaining to the quartering of soldiers,
seem out of touch with modern times. Perhaps the biggest problem,
however, may be an unintentional editorial message that can be easily
drawn from the game due to the design.
Because the player's role and actions within the game are in many ways removed from the actual process of litigating constitutional law and are instead mostly managerial tasks, the player may not believe that there is anything particularly special about constitutional law. A player may come away from the game with a fun experience and with some knowledge gained, but the player may not realize the unique role that civics plays within our lives. If practicing constitutional law is so similar to waiting tables in a diner, then why is it so important that we learn about civics? Further, it is possible to derive a much more cynical message here: is practicing the law more about corralling customers, upgrading office furniture, and acquiring new partners than it is about actually protecting the rights of the American citizenry?
But these complaints seem diminished when compared to the strength of the overall design of the game and the successful use of educational content. The game's creators placed the educational information in a fun package based on an already-successful game design, and by weaving this educational content into the symbols of the game itself, the player gains civics literacy through the natural process of literacy that takes place over the course of game. Because of this successful implementation of this idea, DIHAR stands out as an example of how games can effectively promote literacy, especially in domains where the literacy is not just gained by learning words on a page but is also gained--in fact must be gained--by learning how those words are actively used in a situated context.
The player spends most of the game as
a manager of sorts. Clients come into the office with legal problems or
questions pertaining to constitutional rights. First, the player must
decide if the client has a right to whatever claim they are making. A
player can refer at any time to the "rights review" to go over a list
of the Rights and Amendments discussed in the game to help them make a
decision. If the player decides the client's rights are being violated,
they then decide either to have the client wait in a seating area, to
tell them to come back tomorrow, or to match the client's problem with
the proper lawyer. If the player waits too long to attend to or match
the client with a lawyer, the client's rage will build until eventually
he or she storms out of the office.
If the client leaves in this way or if the lawyer loses the case -- oftentimes due to a client-lawyer mismatch -- the player loses prestige points. If the client is successfully matched with the right lawyer and the lawyer wins the case, the player gains prestige points. These points can be used between work days to hire more lawyers, upgrade the waiting area (increasing both the number of seats and the time clients are willing to wait before storming off), upgrade desks (increase the trial prep speed), or purchase an ad in the paper (increase the amount of clients). At the end of each work day, a newspaper appears on screen with articles detailing your firm's successes and failures.
This gameplay appears to be influenced by the popular web-based casual game Diner Dash. Once the game gets going, the player spends much of his or her time juggling clients from seat to seat, quickly clicking around the law office to match each client with the proper lawyer to efficiently finish as many cases as possible before any waiting clients get angry and leave. The player also spends a sizable part of the game choosing upgrades and deciding which lawyers to hire. In many respects, it feels like a conventional business / management game except that upgrades are only available in between work days.
A reason this method may be so effective is because it maps the content that is supposed to be learned onto the natural learning that takes place over the course of any game. In James Paul Gee's essay "Semiotic Domains: Is Playing Video Games a 'Waste of Time?'" Gee states that when "people learn to play video games, they are learning a new literacy." This is not print literacy. Players become literate in the different meanings of the symbols within a game and the relationship between those symbols. For instance, in DIHAR the player learns that an icon with the number 4 indicates that the associated lawyer can be matched to a client with an unlawful search complaint.
What's interesting in DIHAR is that, by attaching educational content that is meant to be used outside of the game to symbols that must be learned and used within the game, the literacy that the player gains within the game world can then be taken outside of the game and easily used in the real world. This is particularly effective in DIHAR because the in game content has a real world parallel. As in the example stated above, the number 4 and unlawful searches have a real world parallel in the 4th Amendment. The player is able to take this literacy learned in the semiotic domain of this game and apply that literacy to the semiotic domain of civics.
Gee also describes how learning a semiotic domain in a more active way, as through a video game, involves three things: "experiencing the world in a new way, forming new affiliations, and preparation for further learning." What's interesting about this idea is how easily these attributes could be applied to civics education. As a citizen becomes more literate in civics, they experience the world in new ways (understanding Rights reveals the legal limits and allowances), form new affiliations (political affiliations), and prepare for further learning (civics is an ongoing process of learning). One does not come to understand civics by simply reading the Constitution, but rather by contextually learning how the Constitution is actively used. Perhaps this is another reason that the design method works so effectively: the semiotic domain in which the player is supposed to be educated is one that lends itself to active participation.
Because the player's role and actions within the game are in many ways removed from the actual process of litigating constitutional law and are instead mostly managerial tasks, the player may not believe that there is anything particularly special about constitutional law. A player may come away from the game with a fun experience and with some knowledge gained, but the player may not realize the unique role that civics plays within our lives. If practicing constitutional law is so similar to waiting tables in a diner, then why is it so important that we learn about civics? Further, it is possible to derive a much more cynical message here: is practicing the law more about corralling customers, upgrading office furniture, and acquiring new partners than it is about actually protecting the rights of the American citizenry?
But these complaints seem diminished when compared to the strength of the overall design of the game and the successful use of educational content. The game's creators placed the educational information in a fun package based on an already-successful game design, and by weaving this educational content into the symbols of the game itself, the player gains civics literacy through the natural process of literacy that takes place over the course of game. Because of this successful implementation of this idea, DIHAR stands out as an example of how games can effectively promote literacy, especially in domains where the literacy is not just gained by learning words on a page but is also gained--in fact must be gained--by learning how those words are actively used in a situated context.
This is pretty much one of the best serious games I've played. It was fun, sorta funny and managed to teach a thing or two about managing a successful business within the confines of the constitution.
"A player may come away from the game with a fun experience and with some knowledge gained, but the player may not realize the unique role that civics plays within our lives. If practicing constitutional law is so similar to waiting tables in a diner, then why is it so important that we learn about civics?"
Could it also be said that this game is exactly about the role civics plays in our lives? The "gameplay sensation" or "experiential metaphor" (created through the design) when loosely coupled with the constitution seemed to feel like it was about civics. It is a game about decision making with the constitution as unwavering and the object to test success or validity against. So placing the player as the manager of this business abstracts the mundane activities of every day life and creates this place where he must constantly face decisions that directly relate to the constitution in relevant ways and you are rewarded for submitting to/affirming/gaming the system.
Something I don't dig on this game is the title: "Do I have a right?" Far too submissive. I would have much preferred "Do I have a case?"