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By
Tzvi Freeman
Gamasutra
September 29,1997
Originally published in the September 1997 issue
of:
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Features

Power
to the Kids!
The
mind of the child lies at the vortex of software design. The major breakthroughs
in user interface, such as icons and multiple application windows, originate
in work done for children. So does the concept of the laptop. But alas,
the educators have grabbed the market of childhood software and perverted
it into the polar opposite of everything for which the personal computer
stands. Rather than empowering the children and liberating their inner
creative selves, they intimidate and enslave the child to the machine.
Rather than teaching the very first lesson every child of the modern techno-world
must learn, that Man controls the Machine, they subliminally inculcate
the child with the notion that Man must obey the Machine or fail.
But there is hope: Game developers, with their unbridled, insane imagination
and nonconforming nature, are the ones who can crawl into the child's
world and liberate those latent inner powers that have remained dormant.
Here are some game design strategies for children up to seven years old.
Know Your
Market
Somewhere between 32 and 36 months, a child can learn to manage a mouse.
A four year old can easily be a master of the machine.
However, the higher end, seven year olds don't yet get along with sophisticated
game-controllers. This is one of the reasons none of the console makers
have had any success to date with this age group. Another reason is that
this age still identifies with childhood and, frankly, thinks very differently
than older children (see "The Case for Inappropriateness").
Around seven or eight, a major reorganization of grey matter takes place,.
By nine, you have everything it takes to make a full-blown Ultra-64 junkie.
These kids no longer want "kid's stuff" - they want the real thing. So
let's try to understand what goes on when children age one to seven hit
silicon.
An adult will purchase and share the product. A child typically
doesn't even choose the software. It's usually picked by a parent or grandparent
according to what they think the child will enjoy. They almost always
mitigate the guilt of spending so much for a kid's toy by justifying it
as "educational."
All this means that your software must have the following qualities:
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It
should be enjoyable and attractive both for a child and an adult.
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It
should allow plenty of opportunity for the child and the adult to
interact with each other. On the other hand, the child should be able
to figure out how to have fun without any adult supervision. (This
is what really takes brains.)
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It
should be versatile and deep enough to be fun to a wide age-group
of children.
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It
should have qualities that grandparents will consider educational.
(You and I know that if it's good software, it's educational. But
it might be hard convincing Grandma and Grandpa of that.)
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It
mustn't have anything that could make adults uneasy about recommending
it for small children. In other words, avoid violence.
Know
the child.
Not just you, but the artist, the animator, the programmer, the
sound and music people - everyone creatively involved in the project
must have a real, first-hand, in-depth feel for the child.
The problem is that everyone feels that they're already an expert on
children. After all, no one has managed to escape the first-hand experience
of being one. Still, few of us have maintained a faithful recollection
of what childhood is really all about.
I recommend watching a child who's at a computer. There's no more lucid
window into the child's mind. They talk to themselves, to others, and
to the machine more articulately than at any other activity.
Try talking with a child as he or she sits at the machine to get even
more feedback. Be careful not to influence their decisions or processes.
You want the raw child - not one tainted by your external influence.
A vital connection to the game you're producing is essential. Children's
software isn't the sort of thing you contract to out-of-house generic
programmers. People that make children's software don't "do that also"
- they are people that specialize in children's software.
Know what the child needs. Children do a good job of looking
as if they're wasting time, but secretly they are in the business of
educating themselves about how the world works. That's how they have
fun. They just need you to facilitate their discovery by providing them
with the right tools and environment in which to explore.
In other words, they need you to empower them. Just as you empower the
adult, the teen, or the older child to build cities, blow up monsters,
or fly jet aircraft, so you empower the younger child to explore and
discover a world to which they can lend some sense.
The tools the child needs to have to do this have two primary qualities:
versatility and comfort. Versatility allows the child the freedom and
power to explore. Comfort allows the child the confidence to go for
it. When you think about it, these are the same two qualities that we
look for in a good car, home, computer, or any other adult tool. It's
just that for the child, these two elements have somewhat different
meaning.
Need
#1: Versatility
Versatility
means that I can do with it whatever my mind imagines I can do with
it. Sand, mud, water, and sticks are eminently versatile. They are also
the favorite toys of any child. There are some basic ways to provide
that same versatility in your game.
Provide tools, situations, and environments that have multiple uses.
When you design an object, a tool, or an environment, don't just
think about what you intend the child to do, think about what the child
may attempt to do. And then make that possible.
If you provide a hammer for building, make sure that hammer can smash
things as well. If you provide water for putting out a fire, let that
water create mud when it mixes with dirt. This ensures that objects
have integrity and that their relationships are well integrated.
Another advantage to making your software flexible is that it loosens
the age restrictions. Different-aged children can use objects for different
purposes in different ways. Also, a child can grow with the game. They
can come back to it a year later and find fascinating new facets to
the game that didn't seem to be there before.
Realize that a child is an extreme functionalist. Everything must have
a use. If the child doesn't find an immediate use, that child will have
no qualms about breaking the object so that it fits into some use. Call
it egocentric, call it narrow-minded, call it reckless vandalism - the
child's functional orientation is something that you can take prime
advantage of in your game.
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The Print
Shop (Broderbund)
Obstructs many children younger than 10 from thinking creatively
or working independently by providing mind-boggling abstractions
and procedures.
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Encourage
exploration and banish the fear of failure. Remember, the child's
way of learning is by trying everything out. The greatest obstruction
we can put in the path of that learning process is to feed children
the notion that if they try something interesting, they're going to
fail.
Let's say you have an aerial view of a world with continents, islands,
and bodies of water. You show the child the starting location and allow
him or her to move around elsewhere. What makes sense is to move only
a short distance from the starting location. The child may try this
at first, but eventually will try flying off to a distance. That doesn't
fit into your game, so you just don't allow the child to enter that
area. You've just discouraged exploration.
Or let's say you've provided a vacuum cleaner. Those are for vacuuming
the floor, right? It just so happens, I created one in a game and let
the kids test it. I should have known: They tried vacuuming the alphabet
blocks on the shelf with it. Nothing happened, and I felt badly. In
the next iteration, I designed the vacuum cleaner to suck the paint
off the letters on the blocks. Adults didn't try doing that, but the
kids love it.
Rather than restrict the child to linear game flow, reward exploration
and novelty. If the child tries to enter an area of the map that is
not yet accessible, don't just block entry. Provide some feedback in
terms of vital information to the game. If you provide the child with
a pen, allow the child to stab holes in the paper as well as write on
it. If your background is made of clay, allow the child to smudge parts
of it. All these things are vital methods to the child's learning strategy.
They also make things infinitely more fun.
Avoid
arresting control from the child. This very common failure
is found in the best of kids' software. In the early days of procedural
code, it was excusable. Today it's not.
We all know how we feel when a process takes over our machine and doesn't
allow us to do other work. We're reminded that, "Oh yes, there is a
machine here. And right now it's getting in my way." It doesn't feel
like fun and it doesn't feel empowered.
When an animation or any process begins - no matter how entertaining
it is - the child shouldn't have to wait until the process is over to
try out something else. Conversely, trying out something else shouldn'
mean aborting whatever is already happening. That's sending a strong
message that "You're not really in control here" to the child. Sure,
that means a lot better management of your code and a lot more quality
control, but the playfulness it adds to your game is well worth it.
Knowing that, here are two caveats: Don't make it too easy for the child
to abort a process inadvertently. Remember that children will often
click the mouse for no apparent reason. But don't throw in some obtrusive
interface, either. Come up with something elegant. Also note that there
are situations in which allowing a child to abort a process could severely
complicate matters and is simply not worth it (this occurs in adult
software, too). But it's a situation to be avoided.
Watch out for "the clickies". This is a typical syndrome suffered
by many kids new to computers. In its most extreme form, it involves
an almost continuous clicking of the mouse on anything that looks clickable.
More commonly, it means that no button survives without at least a double-click
- if not a triple or quadruple.
In many cases, this can prevent the child from mastering your game.
For example, if the first click of a button initiates an action and
the second cancels it, you can imagine how much fun we're having. Similar
problems occur when a button leads to a new scene where another button
appears in the same place.
Give the kid a break: Test all clickable objects by double-clicking
them. You may simply want to clear the event queue of mouseclicks after
processing any click.
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Kid Pix
(Broderbund)
Long-time king of the child software market--allows kids to
do the wacky and ridiculous. It was created by Craig Hickman
with his 3 year old on his lap. When Broderbund handed it over
to an outside contractor for version 2, they wrecked havoc.
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Don't
build in "wrong" responses. This is where so much "edutainment"
beats its way to the grave. The last thing any child wants to hear is
a machine telling her she's wrong. Up until that point, you had a chance
of convincing the child that she controls this mega-power monster.
Let's return to the vacuum cleaner that I made. After the children were
empowered to suck the paint off the alphabet blocks, they were concerned
about how to get the color back. So I made a holding area where the
letters reappeared when vacuumed away. When passing the mouse over these
displaced letters, they screamed, "Help! Put me back!" If you dragged
them back to their original spot, where they fit in perfectly, they
would snap into place. But if not, they would just fall back to the
holding area.
This feature provided a great opportunity for kids to learn the shapes
of the alphabet characters. Then came the acid test - which turned out
to be one of my sweetest moments of success. It was one of the most
lucid and revealing windows I've ever had on a child's mind.
I sat a three year old at the machine who didn't know the letter "A"
from an ink spill. He vacuumed the letters. He expressed concern. He
found the lost letters and dragged them back - without error. Then it
happened: He was dragging the capital letter "O" back to its place when
he passed over the letter "Q" block. Then he turned back. He lined up
the "O" over the "Q" block without releasing the mouse button and said,
"Hmmmm. What if...?" And then he let the mouse go. The letter fell back
to where it came from. His reaction? "That's funny!" And then he dragged
the letter straight to the "O" block where he knew it was supposed to
go in the first place.
What exactly the child learned from this exercise is a matter of conjecture.
But suppose the machine had been inane enough to tell him, "That's wrong,
try again!" I know exactly what he would have learned: Experiments are
wrong.
Don't let the machine boss the kid around. Let's get this
straight: Machines are tools. Like hammers, screwdrivers, automobiles,
and telephones. Tools are things people use. A good tool is one that
feels transparent in its master's hand. Now, imagine a hammer that looks
up at you and smirks, "Hey, look who thinks he knows how to hold a hammer!"
1.
MAKE IT OBVIOUS.
This is the ideal, but most difficult method of providing
instruction - the sign of a masterpiece. Create an environment
where the child will determine intuitively what is to
be done in each situation. Borrowing familiar objects
and dynamics from the child's world will help a lot.
2.
CHARACTERS THAT TALK TO THEMSELVES.
Instead of telling the child, "Now do this," have one
of the characters (or objects) talk to itself about
what needs to be done.
3. TEACH BY EXAMPLE
This is a common strategy in 2D scrollers. Have some
other character - even the enemy - do what you would
like the child to do. Repeat it until the child picks
it up. Children like to imitate.
4.
ENCOURAGE EXPLORATION.
Make your environment free and comfortable enough that
children will be willing to try things out until hitting
on what you want them to do. While they're figuring
it out, they'll still be having fun.
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Four
Subtle Ways to
Provide Instructions Without Text
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The
greatest, and perhaps most seductive error that we can make with children's
games is to make the machine into an entity. No cutesy "I don't understand
that" or "Now do this" or "That was wrong, try again." The greatest
experience that we can provide for a child is the sense that nothing
is as important as the imagination and this game is an opportunity to
explore it.
Occasionally, there is a need to instruct the child how to use the game.
There are plenty of ways to do this without commands (see figure "Four
Subtle Ways to Provide Instructions Without Text").
Need
#2: Comfort
Every
game designer is familiar with the principle of balancing challenge
with ability. What many designers don't realize is that there is a third
factor in the formula that allows you to widen the distance between
ability and challenge: the player's sense of security. Simply put, if
the player feels insecure in any given situation, that player will be
less likely to take on challenges. With greater security, confidence
increases and more challenges can be faced. More challenges means more
time and enjoyment of your game. Comfort and security can sometimes
be difficult to provide for little people.
Here's an example: Say you're a little kid. You've watched your parents
break down in tears over something that you innocently retooled, redecorated,
or otherwise abused. You haven't yet got it figured out, but it's becoming
apparent that at a certain point things break, and some (apparently
random set) of those breaking incidents cause big people to get really
angry, which can imply significantly negative consequences for defenseless
innocents such as yourself. Now you view your father's very nifty machine
as one of those anger-triggering-when-busted things. You might not feel
so secure.
As if that's not enough, when you get into this game, your head starts
spinning. Things keep changing. Each screen is different from the screen
before. Tools work differently according to when you use them. Characters
change their roles and behaviors. It seems that at any moment, the whole
thing could just blow up.
Sure, there are kids who aren't intimidated easily. But all children
work better when they feel more secure. A game can provide security
by following a few simple guidelines.
Provide a guide. Humongous Entertainment does a great job of
providing warm, nonthreatening guides with whom every child can identify.
Every child who plays PUTT-PUTT JOINS THE PARADE leaves the game believing
that he or she is Putt-Putt, which provides a lot of security. There
are a number of ways Humongous achieves this. First of all, Putt-Putt
always seems to knows what's happening. Putt-Putt never looks too frightened
or overly perturbed by events, so neither does the child. Putt-Putt
responds to situations just as the child would. Putt-Putt never tells
the child what to do or passes judgment on the child's actions. He never
behaves in a totally unexpected manner or does anything without the
child first approving. He never gets hurt or dangerously lost. If anything
negative did happen to Putt-Putt, the child's sense of security and
willingness to continue the game could be adversely affected.
(Putt-Putt was Humongous's first - and very successful - attempt at
an adventure game for kids. Their second title involved a teddy bear
wandering around a house at night in the dark and encountering some
exasperating situations. It was the first child's game I ever saw that
could make a child break down in tears.)
A lot of consideration, discussion, and testing goes into creating a
guide like Putt-Putt. After all, the guide becomes a central feature
of the child's experience. Many developers try to make their guides
asexual, androgynous, or totally ambiguous. My sense is that as long
as the character is clearly defined early on in the design process,
it will integrate well and work. Also, keep in mind (I need my bodyguards
present while I make this statement, but it's true) that many boys will
have difficulty identifying with a girl character, whereas most girls
will have no difficulty identifying with a boy. If it comes down to
using one or the other, use a boy.
Another strategy is to provide a choice of guides. This considerably
increases your workload, not just in terms of code, but in ensuring
that every scene works appropriately with either character as the guide.
Beware that it also detracts from the game's focus and feel.
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The
Humongous line provides heroes that kids can easily identify
with and also serve as guides. The age-appropriate problems
are cleverly presented. The user-interface is simple,
intuitive and consistent.
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Be Consistent.
Just as your guide must be consistent, your artistic style, sound
effects, backgrounds, and object behaviors must be, too. Think through
everything and define styles and behaviors clearly in your design document.
Children approaching seven years old are just learning to believe that
there is consistency out there; that there are laws of nature that you
can trust to be the same today as they were yesterday. Half of their
play is all about discovering this wonderful, secure consistency of
nature. Don't be the one to undermine that.
One place consistency tends to break down is when the operating system's
user interface raises its hoary head. Adults are expected to recognize
and deal with Open File dialogs and such, but not children. Make sure
to provide your own substitutes to these things if necessary.
Make It Intuitive. Once you've learned how to use something,
if it looks like it should be used differently you continue feeling
insecure about using it. For example, I move my kids about in a beat-up
'86 Toyota van. To lock all the doors in this brilliantly designed vehicle,
you pull up a switch by the driver's seat. That makes all the locks
go down. Brilliant, eh? After all these years, I still get it wrong
one time in every five. If that's so with adults, it's all the more
so with children.
Of course, what's intuitive to adults may be counter-intuitive to children.
To an adult, it makes perfect sense that if you look up, the shampoo
won't go in your eyes, or that you place the right arm in the sleeve
on the left side of the jacket facing you. To children, these are things
to be taken on blind faith out of the awe that they have for these big
people who seem to know what they are talking about.
Which means that there's no substitute for testing your interface ideas
on real, live children. Show them objects and ask, "What do you think
this does?" Then listen carefully as they give their own ideas of what
things should look like.
Avoid Shifting Modalities. Shifting modalities means making things
work under one set of rules in one instance, but under another set of
rules in another. Engineers just love designing things that way. End
users are completely confounded by it.
One of the hardest objects I've had to design is a telephone for children.
After the typewriter, the telephone is the most poorly designed device
of the modern era. It behaves one way when "on the hook," another way
when "off the hook," and yet another way while "on line." No wonder
teaching young children to operate a telephone can be so frustrating.
Ever had a child answer a long-awaited call and hang up while he goes
to look for you? Or had a child start dialing the phone while you're
still on the line? Every tool that you give the child should have only
one way of working, regardless of what happened just beforehand. Every
object should have a well-defined, internally consistent set of behaviors
that never shifts about.
Usually, when I make a tool for a child, the initial iteration has more
than one modality. It takes some thought to find a way to provide everything
you want in one simple mode, but you end up with a far easier-to-use
tool.
No
Reading. Yes, it sounds obvious, but developers keep on doing it.
I've even seen software that purports to teach basic reading, but can't
be understood unless you know how to read (and even then...).
Know that if a child cannot read, that means the child can't read. You're
going to have to find other ways to communicate. Even if the child can
read, he or she may not comfortable doing it.
Use Kid's Voices. The only excuse for using adult voices in software
is that it is much easier than using children's voices. Children can
be a real pain to record. If they don't get it right the first time,
you've usually lost it for the day. Very often you'll have to blend
two or three recordings together to get what you want.
But if you do it right, the rewards are phenomenal. There's just no
comparison to hearing the fresh, vital, and expressive voices of young
children speaking out of your machine. You'll capture the heart not
just of the child who's playing, but of the adult who's machine is being
hijacked as well.
Don't Increase Difficulty Without the Child's Approval. Edmark
is notorious for this. Some educator applied half-baked notions of Mastery
Learning mixed with poor arcade-game design and arranged gameplay so
that as soon as a child gets too comfortable, things become more difficult.
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Edmark's
Thinking Things allows kids to explore, but oozes goodyness and
expectations. This "Tooney Loon," for example, can get really
bossy and obnoxious when you fail to imitate it correctly.
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Now,
that's often fine in the real world, where there are plenty of signs
to tell kids when they're improving and that things are going to get
more difficult; generally, an intelligent adult or friend is giving
real feedback and reading stress levels loud and clear.
But when progress is blindly automated, it's bad. The child thought
he was doing well, and now he's failing. And he can't tell why. The
least you can do is explicitly let the child know that difficulty is
increasing, as in a typical shooter, where you can see the opponents
are becoming bigger and more threatening. You know you're on a higher
level.
Personally, I'm a proponent of letting the children decide when to take
on bigger and more difficult tasks. This way, they retain their sense
of control and develop a sense of their own capacities as well. That
may be too much to expect at a very early age, but as they come closer
to "metacognition" (awareness of what they are thinking) it makes more
sense.
Provide
Immediate Response to any Action. Adults begin to feel uneasy
if they've clicked a button and nothing's happened within 0.2 seconds.
With kids, results are magnified. I previously mentioned the "clickies"
syndrome. This is often brought on in otherwise perfectly balanced kids
by repeatedly unresponsive buttons. Aggressive behavior has also been
noted. They may just plain give up. (Just be thankful you're not programming
for primates. In a project creating buttons with icons recognizable
by a gorilla, the beast was noted to trash machines that did not respond
immediately. Literally.)
Remember that small children have just understood the notion that there
is such a thing as cause and effect in our world. They're still quite
suspicious of the phenomenon and ready to attribute anything to magic.
We want them to know that machines aren't magical. Kids are.
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The
Living Book Series (the oldest CD ROM series for kids, originally
from Living Books, now at cheaper quality from Big Tuna's Productions)
provides small children a simple, comfortable environment. It
flunks out, however, in versatility. You can't even abort
an animation, and some of them are very long.
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Make the
Click Areas Big Enough. Kids are not as detail oriented as adults;
for children, close is good enough. Make sure your buttons are big.
If the child is supposed to drag things to specific places, expand the
"hot" area invisibly beyond the graphic.
It's also a good idea to provide plenty of feedback when the cursor
is over a hot spot. Changing cursors, animating the area, cueing audio,
and showing eyeballs that follow the mouse are all effective means of
helping children follow the action. These tactics also help them keep
track of the cursor's location; losing the cursor is another common
phenomena with small children.
Build
It And They Will Come
Kids
have been getting the short end of the technology stick for too long.
Adults - and big kids - are handed more and more power every day, but
small folk just get pushed around more and more. Game developers have
the tools to empower and liberate children.
Nevertheless, you have to know them very well. Don't ever assume that
you've got children down pat and can predict their every turn and click.
Keep studying them closely and they'll never cease to amaze you.
Tzvi Freeman teaches Game Design and Documentation at Digipen School
of Computer Gaming in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. He has designed
several commercial games and has acted as a consultant on many others.
He can be reached at TzviF@aol.com.
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