Hints and Riddles

Nick Montfort has a pair of posts on riddles over at Grand Text Auto.

In the first post, he suggests that:

the riddle… offers a way to consider computer games and how people understand them, learn from them, and are able to see the world through them in new ways.

This is the same analogy that I was making in A Theory of Fun, only I used the word “puzzle” instead of riddle. You can abstractly see any given riddle as a system that will accept certain inputs and reject others. The more complex challenges may have multiple states that must be met, multiple stages to pass through, and so on.

But Nick goes on to say

Describing what a riddle isn’t helps to identify riddle-like situations in gaming: Solution does not have to involve physical skill, reflexes, memorization of how a level progresses, a sense of rhythm, or any other abilities along these lines. Nor is it simply a matter of detection, of going over every virtual surface for a missing clue. Rather, the riddle-solver needs the ability to map metaphors, understand figuration, see how systems work, and think with new frames.

I would argue that this is incorrect; every riddle could in fact be solved by a process of detection, but the detection space is so large that we intuitively know not to bother trying. (Also, many riddles are typically architected as “you get one chance,” to specifically eliminate this approach).

Similarly, we should not confuse interface (physical skill and reflexes) with the core problem presented. The fact that verbal (or written) expression is not considered a huge hurdle when we solve a riddle is an accident of evolution and situation. Were we mute, we might find the challenge of answering the riddle to be extremely demanding on our physical capabilities, even if we had superior intellects and were immediately able to know what concept or word the riddle wants as an answer.

The place where the essays really get interesting is in examining the relationship between hint-giving and the problem itself — between feedback and the riddle. Nick rightly notes that done properly, hint-giving is an art, designed to teach both problem solving and the questioning of assumptions.

A player sought help with a specific puzzle in Emily Short’s intricate Savoir-Faire and received a prompt reply. One person quoted the player’s stated assumptions and wrote “Only one of the three assumptions mentioned above is correct.” Then, after leaving traditional “spoiler space” (so that the player wouldn’t accidentally see the rest of the message, if this wasn’t desired), he made three more specific points that corrected these assumptions without giving away the solution to the puzzle. This reply, typical of hint-giving, makes it clear that the process of providing hints is, when carried out well, more a sort of education (a drawing out of a new way of thinking) than a simple handoff of a key or answer.

In some ways, I would say that the act of hint-giving is core to game design; all games should provide intermediate feedback as well as success and failure states, so that the player can continue to assess the situation and correct their assumptions.

Nick wonders about examples of games that accomplish this — there’s tons, if you take this different view that I am espousing. From platform games that give more lives when people are doing badly, to racing games that provide “catch-up” mechanisms when you’re behind, to games that give bonuses or incentives for doing things a particular way — think of the Achievements system in XBox Live as a “hint” system, and it suddenly opens up new ways to think of getting that Starflower badge in Hexic.

For any given system that takes inputs and outputs, there’s basically three responses: no reaction, state change, or success. Every state change is an opportunity to provide a hint.

A simple riddle will only permit one iteration at the problem, will not have state changes, and will simply report failure or success.

A more complex riddle or puzzle might permit multiple iterations, have some state changes, and have a particular state that is a success (think of a multistage adventure game puzzle, where you have to turn dials until all the lights light up; intermediate stages will be positions of the gears and even partial solutions).

As you move up the scale of complexity, you end up at games: many stages, many iterations, and many states. Likely many success or failure states as well.

If we keep in the back of our minds that games are teaching patterns, we’ll understand more fully the importance of interface, presentation, and feedback — the game is its own hint system, and the goal is for the player to understand the lesson to whatever extent interests them. All of the tools of presentation and feedback can be aimed at that purpose.