Replaying history: learning world history through playing

Figure 4.1: Visual outline of narrative

DAYS 1-4: Experimenting with curricular models, and learning to play the game

The computer lab itself was in a small classroom designed to seat twenty elementary students, not 18 teenagers, so we were packed in uncomfortably. It was a very hot day and there was no air conditioning. Voices from outside came in through an open window, and several students called out to people on the street. Eighteen of the twenty computers were working.

Lisa and Sandy calmed down the class down and introduced me as “Kurt,” a researcher from M.I.T. teaching a unit on civilizations using the game Civilization III. Lisa asked students to give me their attention, announced, “Take it away, Kurt,” and we began. I described the game and explained that my research was examining what, if anything, they learned about world history through playing it. I told a quick story about my own experiences sailing through a Caribbean History unit in high school after playing the computer game Pirates!. I had intended on describing Civilization III in greater detail and what they might learn through playing the game, but they were clearly uninterested. Only three students made any eye contact with me during the entire seven minute introduction; the other twelve talked or checked email. Lisa and Sandy handled classroom management, disciplining students, and confiscating contraband.

I wanted to demonstrate the game with the projector but it was broken, so students played the tutorial instead. Most of the machines did not load the game correctly, so many students sat staring at error screens. After thirty minutes, students were finally into the game, but the class was on the verge of chaos because students had entered the game at different rates and barraged us with questions.

Exploring the Game

By 2:40 the class had settled, but four or five students, all of whom were women, were still not playing the game at all. One student slept in front of her computer. Four others talked, walked around the room, or sat and did nothing. The other 12 students worked through the tutorial. The teachers said that this was actually a large number of students to have on task at one time. By 2:50 something from the game had captured the interest of each student. Some students wanted to find civilizations to interact with. Others wanted to build an army, go to war, and rule the world. Others just wanted to build up their cities.

Andrea, one of the women actually playing the game, looked frustrated. She shouted, “Where are the women in the game? I explained how the workers and settler units represent both men and women since historically men and women both worked in these eras. Andrea grunted, and nodded, looking unconvinced. “They don’t look like women.” For Andrea and Erica, two students playing together, the scouts, settlers, workers, and warrior icons all looked male and the lack of women in the game was a turn off. They were playing as the Egyptians, whose leader was Cleopatra.

The first day was characterized by chaos, confusion, and a difficulty in communicating the purpose of playing the game. Students frequently asked, “Why are we playing?” or “What is the point of this?” Few students were familiar with strategy game genre conventions and none had played turn-based strategy games. Eventually, most students found something about the game that intrigued them. However, we were still uneasy that the class could easily lose interest, which could result in more chaos.

On the second day, we tried an introductory “Do Now” ¹⁷ activity to help me learn students’ names. Students were uncooperative. Before the activity began, we kicked Tammy and Bill out of class for talking. Several students (Dwayne, Shakira and Shirley) would not turn around to look at me, and two students refused to even give me their names. Several others refused to be on video camera, causing us to abandon videotaping class sessions entirely.

Next, we tried to administer the pretest (See Appendix E). Only a few students even tried the survey and only one student, Jason, attempted the timeline item. Midway through the survey, Sandy reminded the students that they were being graded on the unit, but this had no noticeable impact on behavior. While doing the survey, Andrea, one of the strongest students in the class, asked, “What’s the difference between B.C. and A.D.?” I asked her to guess, and Andrea commented, “Maybe that’s why we’re doing this unit.” We hoped that the survey would help students understand the purpose of the unit, but the exercise only seemed to alienate students further.

Retrying the Game

Most students ignored the in-game tutorial. Four students, all of whom had played computer strategy games previously, were starting to understand the purpose of the game and its basic interface. For example, Tony (Babylonians)¹⁸ explored his continent with his warriors. He read through the city improvement screens, carefully weighing the effectiveness of whether to build military units, granaries, temples, or workers. Jason also approached the game methodically, carefully reading each word and thinking about decisions. Dwayne, who had earlier refused to give me his name, played the game intently throughout class, talking with no one. He struggled with whether to sell his technologies for gold because he feared that other civilizations would attack him. Later I learned that Dwayne was one of the brightest students in the school yet was failing all of his classes for the second straight year and most likely would not advance to 10^th grade for the third year in a row. Deborah, who was not a strategy gamer, enjoyed negotiating with other civilizations. She read through the negotiation screens carefully, using her mouse as a pointer to highlight difficult words. ¹⁹ Dwayne, Tony, Dan, and a few others kept on playing the game after dismissal time. By the end of class, the three students who had played real-time strategy games before (Tony, Jason, and Dwayne), were able to negotiate the interface without problems.²⁰

About half of the students were completely confused. For example, Kathy was starving her civilization and was completely bankrupt but unaware of what she was doing wrong.²¹ Others did not play at all. Bill called for help several times but could not be heard over the din. Kent spent most of the time walking about the room, looking over students’ shoulders. Eventually Kent became engrossed in other students’ games. At one point, Sandy threatened him with detention for being out of his seat, but Kent replied, “Kent will go home when Kent wants to go home.” Four girls talked or checked email.

I was busy the entire period, moving from student to student answering questions. Most questions were general, such as “How do I play the game?” or “What is the game about?” Even after the second day, several students wondered aloud what the point of this unit was. None of the just-in-time lectures explored social studies concepts; they were all explanations of controls or how the game works. The most vocally frustrated students were those whose computers were crashing, suggesting that the frustration may have been due to technical issues as much as any lack of understanding of the game.

Sandy, the second researcher, and I debriefed after class. We were concerned about classroom management issues and Sandy suggested that we divide into two groups to make the classroom more manageable. On alternating days, one group could do activities (i.e. discussions) while the others played the game. We decided to require students to pick one of four civilizations to study and have students vote on which civilizations they would play – encouraging them to do background readings on civilizations prior to the vote. Overnight, I put together a readings packet introducing each civilization for the exercise (See Appendix F).²²

We started class on the third day with a whole group discussion before we divided into groups. I passed out a paper with eight quotations about civilization covering a variety of historical and philosophical perspectives (see Appendix G).²³ Five minutes into class, many students were being disruptive, and three students were removed from class.

Sandy instructed students to read the eight quotations about civilization and write a reflection on one that was meaningful to them. One student asked, “What if you didn’t do it [i.e. read the sheet]?” There was talking and laughter; students jeered. Sandy tried to regain their attention and reminded the class that they were being graded on the unit. Sheila refused to do the sheet and was also removed from class.

Dwayne, of all students, had actually read the quotes. There was some mumbling as students seemed surprised that Dwayne had read the sheet. Dwayne defended himself. “I did it because I’m probably the only person in the room who can understand and comprehend the paper….Civilization is the limitless multiplication of unnecessary necessities.” Dwayne explained that he chose the quote because it emphasized, “Unnecessary things. That’s what civilization is built on. Things we don’t need. Computers, supermarkets, corporations, government…” Dwayne, who was the most troublesome student and flunking all of his classes, was also, by the teachers’ estimation, the most intellectually gifted in class. The discussion lumbered along, with Sandy doing her best to connect the activity to students’ interests, such as Native American culture. The discussion was labored, far from the engaging discussion and debate I had imagined.

On days 3 and 4 we divided into two groups. Sandy’s class discussed and voted on civilizations while my group played Civilization III. In the computer room, I demonstrated the game to small groups. Students listened for a few minutes and then asked questions of their own: “What do I do in the game? What does the worker do? What does the settler do?” Students were especially confused about military and domestic units (i.e. settlers, workers) and their differing purposes. As students began playing, they encountered their first complex, multi-variable problem: the problem of maintaining happiness in their cities. We opened their city screens and investigated the economy of each city. We looked at the amount of food, production, and commerce being generated by each city. We compared the productivity of grasslands, river valleys, hills, and mountains. We compared the effects of irrigation, mining, and building roads on the carrying capacity of the land and on the commerce of each city, which would lead to increased revenue and luxuries. I also showed them how they could encourage citizens to become entertainers rather than laborers, which would mean less food, production and trade, but more luxury goods. For the first time, students saw how they faced choices that could have an impact on how their civilization evolved and history unfolded

By day 3, several students became engaged in the game, each for unique reasons. Dwayne, Chris, Andrea, and Jason stayed to play after class and I had to struggle to get them out of the classroom. I asked what they liked so far. Dwayne would not answer me, but he seemed to enjoy building an empire. Chris liked exploring the map. Jason rattled off several parts of the game that he enjoyed – the chance to build cities, going to war, talking to advisors. Andrea laughed when I ask her what she liked about the game, saying, “I hate this game!” Andrea was constantly at war. She laughed again and then said, “No, but it’s really fun, even though it’s frustrating." Kent and Norman also came up to me after day 4 to say how they liked the game.

Although a growing number of students engaged in playing the game, many were still overwhelmed by its complexity. Even though students had gone through the tutorial, sat through three introductions, and played the game for three hours, the game’s learning curve was still so steep that some students were overwhelmed. Conversations focused on questions such as: How do I gain more money? How do I stop cities from rioting? What do I control? After class, I tried to do a pre-interview with Dwayne. Although Dwayne gave his opinions about the game, he refused to participate in any performance tasks. I asked him what he thought of the unit, and Dwayne said that he thought it was a good idea, but that students could develop misunderstandings of factual information, such as who built the Pyraminds.

Even though the class dynamic was improving and I was establishing some trust with students, Dwayne still did not feel safe enough to show me his understandings of history. Obtaining valid pretest data was still not possible.

Voting on Civilizations

In Sandy’s room, students were handed the introductory packets on civilizations (see Appendix F). Bill read the overview of Civilization III aloud, stumbling over one or two words. Kent read the paragraph about the Aborigines. Sandy asked if any of the students had heard of the Aborigines. No one had. She asked four students this question again, one by one, to make sure that they were really paying attention. No one had heard of the Aborigines. When they moved on to the Aztecs, a few students reported having heard of them, although none gave any specific information. Jenny mentioned that they were in the Americas. Kent added that they had “Ill houses, made of mud and stones and stuff.” Students read through the remaining civilizations, most of which students had not heard of. Sandy underscored that if they wanted to start as an African civilization, they could be the Bantu²⁴. This opening activity reveals that, while I hoped that students would come to understand the complex interaction of variables behind the evolution of civilizations, I might need to spend more time introducing simple concepts, such as who the aborigines were and where they came from, than I had anticipated.

Next, students voted on which civilizations they wanted to play (ballot in Appendix I). Sandy emphasized that part of this decision was choosing what continent they would start on. Students read through their packets and voted on four civilizations. Students were much more engaged in researching and discussing civilizations, deciding which ones they would play than they had been before. No students talked, walked about the room, or touched one another.

Discussing (or Not Discussing) Civilizations

On Day 4, Sandy led a more structured discussion of civilizations. Sandy wrote the “Do Now”: “Write what you know about Egyptian civilization.” Sandy asked, “What grade did you study Egypt in?” Jason replied, “All my life!” Sandy explained that students would vote for four civilizations to play and that some classes would meet outside the computer lab for discussion.

“Will we be graded?” Rica asked.

“Of course,” said Sandy.

Andrea drew a concept map at the board. Students periodically yelled out facts about Egypt. Egyptians were the first do brain surgery. Egyptian Gods were part animals. Egyptians invented hieroglyphics. Egyptians made beer. Egyptians pulled the brains out of the nose of their dead during mummification. Overall, students named about a dozen facts related to Egypt. Andrea wrote down several more facts between comments. Sandy described connections between Egyptians religious beliefs and their burial practices.

Sandy then led a jigsaw reading activity where the eight students read about different civilizations and discussed them in groups. Students were half-heartedly engaged in the activity, clearly bored by the ritual display of knowledge about Egypt. The smattering of facts on the board underscored two sides to Jason’s comment. On the one hand, these students had studied Egypt to the point where they could meet most any content standards of factual knowledge of Egypt, but on the other hand, students seemed bored with further study of Egypt, a civilization these students had studied repeatedly as a part of teachers’ efforts to create curricula relating to African history.

I met with the researcher and Sandy for an hour after class to revisit the unit plan. We were all concerned about classroom management issues. I was frustrated because students were spending much of their time learning the game and not much thinking about academic issues. We considered seven or eight different curriculum projects. These ranged from having students film commercials for their civilizations to having them do full-scale research projects. The biggest constraint was that we only had twelve classes left, and there was no way to fit in ten to twenty hours of game play given the time it would take to do a research project. Sandy was concerned with logistical problems. Nearly every idea I had for using the game as a context for outside research (e.g. compare your game to the actual historical situations) involved going between the computer lab and the classrooms or using materials the school did not have.

The layout of the room was the most critical design constraint at this point. Having a bigger room, tables in the center to use for creating maps and timelines and for placing resources, or a working projector for teacher and student demonstrations would have changed our options considerably. In my journal, I wrote,

Much of our difficulty lies in just how complex learning Civilization III is. Here we are, after three hours of game play, and the students are just now familiar with the most basic of concepts, and still hours and hours away from any sort of fluency. They do not understand how to play the game, let alone use it as a tool for understanding world history. There is a lot to understanding these symbols, game terminology, concepts, and systems. And, I had not appreciated how difficult it would be to get these students to do structured activities. They will not do anything that they do not want; grades are no motivator. Perhaps learning world history in the context of game play is all that we can do. This would mean abandoning the complementary activities I value (i.e. timelines), but I am not sure that these students would do them anyway. I will focus the rest of the unit on four objectives I hope students can learn through playing the game: (1) Make connections between political and physical geography (geography as processes), (2) Get a broad sense of how time flows – a framework for understanding the broad events of history, (3) Learn factual stuff about what is where on a map, (4) Understand how technologies build on one another.

I arrived early to debug computer problems and reorganize the physical classroom space. I rearranged the chairs so that they faced me. Next, I drew a large map of the Earth on the white board which I could use for a mini-lecture. My goal was to introduce the game and clarify connections between the game and world history.

Jason and Chris did not believe that I drew the picture myself freehand and debated the accuracy of the map among themselves. Chris thought that there was no way I draw such a large map freehand and believed that I traced the picture. Trying to capitalize on their interest, I explained that I did draw it freehand, and they could tell because there were at least two errors in the map. Tony noted that I didn’t draw Puerto Rico (where his family is from). Dwayne noticed that the Bering Strait was drawn incorrectly. While these students may not have known much about geography, they did have knowledge of geographical features that pertained to them. Ironically, of all the complex technologies in the classroom, it was a hand-drawn a map on a whiteboard that piqued these students’ interest in geography.

I started the lecture by acknowledging Dwayne’s observation that students could develop some misunderstandings through the game, so I asked, “What was the Earth like one million years ago?” There were a lot of questions about whether it was Pangea or not. Then I asked what it was like 15,000 years ago. The students thought that there were thriving civilizations in North America. I realized just how little they knew about ancient history or prehistory. I talked about the invention of agriculture and how it influenced the growth of civilizations. I explained how the ice ages ended around 15,000 BC, and how people probably entered America by coming down through the Bering Strait.

Students were only marginally interested in this activity, and I felt that I was losing them quickly. Jason and Dwayne now had their backs turned, as did most of the class. I switched topics. This example is the first instance of what would later become a predominant pattern; students quickly became disengaged when information was not directly relevant to their own game activity.

“Let’s share the results of the civilization tally,” I announced. Immediately, several students turned around. I explained that the winners were, in order, The Egyptians, Aztecs, Iroquois, and then Bantu. I called on student volunteers to show on the board where each civilization started. There was at least one student in the class who could pinpoint where each of these civilizations originated, but students could not locate China, India, or Babylon on the map.

The discussion shifted to the idea of replaying history – using the game to explore hypothetical historical scenarios. I asked, “If you want to play in the Americas, who would you play as?” The students said, “Europe,” assuming that they would have to play as the civilization who actually settled the area in real life. I tried to explain that, within the game, the player determines who settles America, not real life history, unless of course the player decides to do so, and that students could play as the Iroquois or any another civilization and still try to settle the Americas if they chose. I explained that if they wanted to colonize the Americas, they would have to deal with Native American populations. “You can choose how you want history to be played. You can try to make the Americas African, if you like.” Students did not seem to understand. Lisa explained the concept another way. “Guys – what languages do they speak in South America?” The class responded, “Spanish and Portuguese.” Lisa continued, “Exactly. Why? That’s where the people who settled there came from. You could play as any civilization that you want and settle North America. Or, try to settle Europe with Native Americans.” Until this point, students had been treating the game as an interactive narrative with pre-defined, scripted beginnings and endings rather than as a simulation that can be used to explore historical hypotheticals. Kent said “cool,” as did a few others. Several students turned around in their chairs. Seeing that they could have some power and autonomy intrigued several students and there was a shift in the room as students realized that they could affect the outcome of history within the game.

Game Play Provoking Questions about World History

For the first time, students’ questions in class were related to world history. Dan (Iroquois) was attacked by a horde of barbarians and asked who they were and where they came from. I explained that the barbarians represented nomadic Native American tribes; “that’s part of the difficulties playing as the Iroquois. They have a lot of other tribes to contend with.” Andrea asked Lisa about the Colossus. Kent asked what irrigate meant. Other students asked about specific civilizations and where they originated. These questions suggest that students were starting to get beyond simply understanding the interface and beginning to ask questions about what was happening in their games, seeking information about basic concepts in world history to enhance game play. Over the course of the unit, students each asked dozens of questions designed to illuminate what was happening on screen.

Dwayne (Japan) explained why he wanted to play Japan even though it was not one of the choices, “I want to reverse thousands of years of Chinese oppression on the Japanese peoples.” I decided to let Dwayne keep playing Japan despite the fact that it wasn’t on the list given his lack of interest in school but enthusiasm for Japanese culture. He goal was to weaken the Chinese by drawing them into war with rivaling civilizations. Dwayne used embargoes, treaties, and trade to play three or four civilizations off of one another. Dwayne’s civilization was also the most advanced, as he discovered Literature and built The Oracle, Pyramids and Great Library.

Game failure, not to be confused with technological problems because of older computers, provided students problems to solve. Yet, because students had insufficient resources for analyzing what went wrong, they relied on me for help. Several students had questions related to in-game failures, such as: How do I prevent civil unrest in my cities? How do I defend against barbarians? How do I get more money? Several students, particularly Deborah and Andrea, were constantly at war and, because of it, had problems with cities in civil disarray. They wanted help repairing their civilization. The Carthagianians attacked Bill, and he asked, “Why can’t they invent some guns?” I explained that he could – if he discovered the right technologies. As with many students, Bill’s questions emanated from his failure in the game. I tried to link his goals of gaining better weaponry (the military game system) to the game’s technology system, a connection that was difficult for Bill and others to make. Despite (or perhaps because of) these game challenges, 16 of the 18 students were on task and involved in playing the game.

Most students’ cities went into civil unrest because they were exploring or building warriors instead of focusing on domestic issues. Few students had built an infrastructure for commerce, implemented city improvements, negotiated with civilizations to bring in luxuries, or considered military spending very carefully. I suggested that students (such as Tony and Deborah) keep their defenses up but also build new cities and infrastructure which would create more trade and, in turn, would boost their economy which could then support a strong defense. I also suggested that they explore their respective continents to find friendly tribes that they might trade with. From a pedagogical perspective, these struggles are interesting insomuch that they encourage students to consider the trade-offs between taxes, public happiness, publicly funded exploration, and a large military.

How to build a robust economy and yet maintain a strong military to fight barbarians or rivaling civilizations was an issue for most students. Norman (Iroquois, 500 BC), who proudly held off the barbarians, showed off his defense network of spearmen and warriors to the researchers. Unfortunately, Norman’s defense was also putting him in debt. Norman explained to the researcher that he was using his workers to build roads that would, in turn, strengthen his economy and make his people happy. Norman was starting to follow my previous advise, a suggestion that I hoped might expand the problem space out so that, instead of considering only two or three variables, he (and others) would consider broader interacting variables (here, how civic structures could influence the development of a civilization). Still, no students were building marketplaces and libraries, which would help build their economy, make more luxuries available to their peoples, and raise their rate of scientific discovery. Students were quick to adopt simple strategies – manipulating one simple variable such as raising taxes or building roads – to solve their problems but were much slower to address deeper systemic causes of failure.

Andrea (Egypt, 1 AD) was constantly at war with other civilizations, which drained her economy. She lagged behind other civilizations, and her population was stagnating. Laughing at her demise, Andrea asked me to give her another walk through of the game. Noting the problems with managing civil unrest, I stopped the class to explain that building temples would alleviate civil unrest in cities. I suggested that students build a temple in each city over size “four”. Up until now, I avoided giving formulaic hints for the game, but I figured that a few tips would save a lot of grief. Students had been experiencing a lot of failure up to this point that was causing frustration, and we were concerned that more failure might both alienate students as well as prevent students from ever confronting more complex parts of the game.

Beginnings of Recursive Play and History as a Tool

Game failures led to recursive play, play where students devised a strategy, observed its consequences, and then tried another strategy. This process is a form of hypothesis testing where they observe phenomena, analyze its causes, and implement solutions. It is core to playing Civilization III and has implications for understanding world history more broadly. Jason began playing as the Egyptians and was quickly concerned about the encroaching Babylonians. I explained that he might want to start a settlement on the Sinai Peninsula because it is historically a strategic area due to its location between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean. I encouraged him to use history as a guide for his game play.²⁵ Jason nodded and started making a settler to colonize the land. Later, Jason restarted his game and began playing as the Iroquois²⁶. He explained why he started over, stating “I think I declared war too early, and my cities were too close together and too close to other civilizations. I want to play in North America where I can spread out.”

I asked Jason where his cities started. He knew that he was somewhere in Canada. We looked at the map together.

“Do you know where that is?” I asked, pointing toward Michigan. I was trying to help Jason make connections between actual geography and the game. Whether it was my prompting or Jason’s general interest in geography, he began using geography as a tool for his game play, now looking into the value of exploring Greenland.

“Ummm. Michigan?”

“Yes. Look at all of those resources in the Midwest. You can see why they call that the breadbasket. There’s some great farmland there. You might think about growing that way.” At the end of the unit, in post-interviews, Jason called “looking for resources and trying to become stronger so I wouldn’t become invaded” his favorite part of the game.

Two major themes arose in students’ games, depending on their starting location. Those in North America were isolated from other civilizations and students were concerned that they were not a part of global trade networks; those in the Middle East were constantly at war with neighboring civilizations. Many students were entering 1000 AD and beyond, and were now trading technologies. Students playing in the new world were concerned that they were isolated and unable to trade with other civilizations. Jason restarted his games several times, switching back and forth between Egypt and the Iroquois. As the Iroquois, Jason felt too isolated from other civilizations. As Egypt, he was constantly having to fight off encroaching civilizations, such as the Greeks who founded a city in Northern Libya. Most every player who played as Egypt dealt with this problem of Greece or Rome starting cities in modern-day Libya, an interesting historical simulation of the expansion of Greek and Roman empires. The second researcher noted, “Jason is intense! Focused, riveted. His posture…everything, riveted. I decided not to interrupt him.”

Some students appeared very engaged in the game, yet some remained confused about even its most basic aspects. For example, the researcher asked Kathy what civilization she was playing, what year it was, what government she was in, and what technology she was pursuing, but Kathy could not answer any of the questions. Deborah spent most of her day wandering around the map and explained that her goal was to find other civilizations. Deborah switched back and forth between playing as the Bantu and Egyptians, restarting her game a few times during the class after losing or becoming frustrated. Yet, by the end of class, 11 of 13 students present that day were involved in the game (everyone except Anna and Takia).

After day 5, the teachers and I decided to abandon PowerPoint presentations and focus on giving just-in-time lectures in the context of game play, as we were having increasing success supporting game play with discussion activities. Bringing in authentic maps enabled me to give much richer game advice, weaving geographical terms or historical anecdotes into the explanations. Through lectures, we introduced concepts that could be immediately mobilized as tools for game play. All of the students playing the Egyptians, for example, quickly met the Babylonians and were forced to consider trading, going to war, or possibly giving gifts to keep the them at bay. At this point, conceptual tools such as isolationism, trade, or the geography of the Middle East, could be leveraged via informal just-in-time lectures, just when the concepts would be most useful for students’ ongoing activities.

Fewer students now asked, “How do you play?” yet most were far from fluent in the game. After trying to answer all of their questions about playing the game, the differences among units, fending off barbarians, generating commerce, and problems with civil unrest, I realized that I learned much of these strategies and concepts through time-consuming trial and error, pouring through the manual, talking with friends who played Civilization III, and reading the Civilopedia after failing. To use Civilization III in classroom contexts with new players who are playing not of their own volition but because they are required, may mean designing the activity in ways that manage the amount of failure students must face. Moreover, students did not have much time to learn the game on their own or outside of class and relatively little peer learning has occurred in the class so far. Designing instruction to speed up the amount of time it take to learn game play unrelated to learning objectives and to encourage greater peer collaboration might prove fruitful in future implementations, but might also reduce the complexity of the game space to a point where it would no longer be engaging.