Over and Over and Over Again

Words: 4269 Approximate Reading Time: 30-35 minutes

I have recently been playing Diablo. Not the latest release, Diablo IV. Rather, the second and third games were on sale, so I decided to pick them up at a cheap price. I had played a lot of the first and second games when I was younger, and watching people play and talk about the latest installment of the series gave me the itch to return. Not enough of an itch to shell out $70 for the new game. But $20 for two games seemed fair.

Returning to Diablo II was…rough. I’m not really here to share my experience with that game. Suffice to say, I sunk a lot of time into it in the olden days, and I decided to not even finish it this time around. I had much more fun with Diablo III, and as I dipped into the post-game content I felt an idea bubbling up.

The nature of these games helped me see something elementary to most games: the presence of repetition. Repetition is a pretty foundational component of video games for a lot of reasons, and while we think of repetition as something “bad,” we’re actually complaining about something else. And it was a particular experience with Diablo III that helped me see that.

To begin, every game is going to involve some kind of repetition. That repetition could be literal – recompleting levels, refighting enemies, performing the same action in the same place over and over again – or it could be more figurative. Running around an open world is still a repetition of a previous action, for example, even though the area is different. Rather than trying to differentiate between repetitive and non-repetitive content, it’s better to think about this as a matter of degree (how much repetition is being performed) and kind (what exactly is being repeated).

But really what I want to get at is why some repetition is fine, and other repetition isn’t. This is not just true across different games, but within the same game. Someone playing a fighting game is experiencing repetition…and yet that repetition is fun. Someone playing a roguelike is running through the same areas again (albeit with slightly different layouts)…and yet that repetition is fun. People can have fun doing the same things over and over again, and yet when we see the word “repetitive” our minds immediately reach for concepts like “boredom.”

And so I wish to put down the idea that while so much of our gameplay experience centers around repetition, what matters is whether we think about it as repetition. It is when that repetition is made clear and present that we then get frustrated. As long as someone or something can trick us into not processing our experience as repetitive, we don’t think about it as repetitive, or we don’t care if it’s repetitive. And thus we have fun.

A lot of these thoughts have been born from playing looting games of various kinds. I mentioned Diablo, but I’ve also talked before about dipping in and out of the Destiny series. And I’ve sunk a decent chunk of time into the Borderlands franchise as well. Games that rely on players collecting loot of some kind and building characters around that loot have a particular relationship with repetition that can be tough to nail down. These games are trying to exist for long periods of time and often to monetize a continuous player base. So these games often need players to repeat tasks on a constant basis until the next bit of content is available for them.

But while these thoughts began with these kinds of games, they are by no means exclusive to those games. Any game has the capacity to make its player feel like they’re engaging in repetition. Most other genres avoid this problem through all sorts of principles of design that have been learned over the decades, and probably seemed fairly obvious from the start.

So the purpose of this essay will be to explore the nature of repetition, and techniques for how to “hide” it. Because in a way, what we’re talking about are ways to get players to not realize that they’re doing something repetitive – to lose themselves in the moment so that they can have fun.

Player Actions

The basic starting point needs to revolve around the actions that a player performs in a game. In actual design terminology this would be referred to as the core gameplay loop.

The actions a player performs obviously start with what a player can literally do by way of pressing buttons. If the player has no ability to use a weapon, then we wouldn’t want to put “combat” as one of those core actions. From there we can start to group together basic actions into more complex structures. A player might be able to walk, run, and jump, but those actions could mean all sorts of things on their own. But if we combine those features with an environment designed around running and jumping between different platforms, then we can describe a player’s action as “platforming.”

Actions are not exclusive: we can have multiple actions within a single game. So a game could have platforming and combat at the same time, as long as the game supported those functions. We are simply trying to reduce a game’s actions down to a minimum. This process ends up oversimplifying the game, but our goal isn’t to describe the actions in a way that’s fun, but arrive at a framework through which we can understand repetition.

It’s also important to note that the structure of the game as a whole is relevant to these actions. A Metroidvania, for example, might include the basic actions of platforming and combat. But how the world is laid out requires the player to explore, and that exploration also becomes a core part of the gameplay. So we’re not merely looking for what happens as a result of button presses, but the interaction of various elements of the game together.

We want to make sure to remember that we are not looking for any specific number of core actions in a game. There is no proper minimum or maximum, and just as relevant is that “more actions” does not equal “more fun.” Games with a limited number of actions can be incredibly fun, and games with tons of actions can be overwhelming. There is no right or wrong answer. Instead, by breaking down the gameplay into those actions, we then get a chance to think about how to address issues of repetition.

So let’s take something like a Mario game. There’s really one core action that the player engages in the whole time, which is platforming. There are, of course, a handful of additional interactions depending on powers – fire flowers give you some offensive capability, capes or wingsuits allow you to get around the levels in different ways, and so on. But we’re not trying to explain every possible element of the game. JUst reduce it down to its core. We are oversimplifying, but we can reduce Mario down to platforming – you run and jump from platform to platform until you get to the end.

Now if we say that, then the gameplay of Mario is going to sound dull. And when we then say that you perform that core action over, say, a hundred levels, then our description is going to make the game seem absurd. How could a person do the same thing over a hundred levels and have fun?

And yet, it’s by stating things in this way that we get a chance to address the issue. Yes, if players were literally performing the same actions over and over again for a hundred levels, they’d get bored after the first five or so. But then how do we make it not literally the same actions?

That’s where the design comes in. The ways in which the levels are structured differently with their arrangements of platforms, enemies, and everything else makes each level feel different. We don’t think about the act of playing the game as doing the same thing over and over again, because what has been presented to us has changed each time, even if just in a bunch of little ways.

And that is the intuition I want to capture. Why is clearing one gap in a Mario game different from clearing almost any other gap in the same game? It shouldn’t be. You rarely encounter a platforming challenge that is more complex than running and jumping within a fairly forgiving window of time – these games are often designed to keep newer players engaged, and not around hardcore platforming fans. And yet, we can have fun going through every level despite all of that repetition.

And the answer is that while all these challenges are fundamentally the same, we never think about them as being the same. The way they are presented to us makes them feel unique, even if they’re not. Even very literal repetition – the same sequence of jumps – could feel different through the addition of other elements such as extra enemies or a power-up.

Non-Repeating Repetition

So repetition isn’t the problem. We deal with repetition all the time, and we often don’t think about it. But then what are the ways in which a developer can get us to repeat an action continuously without really thinking about that repetition?

Narrative

When players have some kind of clear goal in front of them that they can focus on, the gameplay tends to run into the background. What we’re doing is set to a kind of auto-pilot, and we are consciously brought back to the process when we run into a serious challenge.

And one goal that helps with this is narrative, or really any kind of questline. The idea that we are progressing some kind of story, whether it’s the main story or not, can get us focused on the mission. We know what we’re trying to accomplish and what it means to accomplish the task, and so we can continue forward at each moment.

Of course, this element is not perfect. There can be a point where the quests themselves can start to feel repetitive. This might be true for an individual quest, or for multiple quests in succession. The more a player is explicitly asked to repeat a task, the more likely they are to think about the fact that they’re repeating a task. Calling attention to that repetition is the rather obvious death knell for enjoyment. It may not happen immediately, but being told that you have to do something over and over again is going to make you more aware of that fact.

Of course, a lot of the content I’m talking about is generally created by developers. It’s possible to have procedurally generated questlines, but those often need to rely on very same-y goals which can become repetitive easily. Narrative is a tool in the arsenal, but it is likely a tool of limited use: you can’t just endlessly make new content for players, because people will finish that content at some point.

Variety

The more a player has to repeat a task, the easier it is for them to become aware of what they’re doing. This happens for a couple reasons. The first is that a lack of variety creates a visceral feeling of boredom. You can just sense that things are repeating themselves. The second is that as you repeat content, you get better at it, which allows you to run on autopilot. And the less engaged the player is with the game, the easier it is for them to reach the conclusion that maybe they aren’t having fun.

When I talk about variety, there are two ways we can produce it. The first is thinking about the number of core actions available to the player and the way those core actions interact. If a game is combining combat and platforming and exploration and puzzle solving, then there are more possibilities that can be explored. Compare this to a game that only has platforming, where you can create an infinite number of levels, but eventually the process of beating any given level is going to become meaningless.

The second method is in thinking about the number of options provided to a player. Even with a limited number of actions, a player could be asked to use that action in different contexts. Perhaps the player is only able to engage with a game by fighting, but by having several different kinds of arenas the player fights in – survival modes, time attack modes, boss rushes, etc. – the player is less likely to think about the fact that they’re just fighting over and over and over again.

Introducing variety is likely the single most valuable tool, because while it requires work, it probably requires the least amount of work relative to its payoff. Creating a few challenges for players that can be cycled through gives the player an opportunity to “breathe” and refresh their brain from engaging in one mode of play. A player could tackle one challenge until they get bored and tackle the next and then cycle through, or just do one after the other. Whatever the case, they are more likely to return to that first challenge because they don’t see it as repetitive. It goes back to feeling like a (relatively) new experience.

Progress

Let’s take a page from roguelikes for a moment. This is a genre built upon repetition. You play through the game, you win or lose, and then you start over again. And you do that continually. Eventually you stop playing, but a really good roguelike can have you playing for 20-40 hours, and often can get you to keep playing beyond mere victory.

And the way roguelikes can get players to come back is through a sense of progress. This can be the knowledge that they gain about items, levels, enemies, skills, and so on. Or it can be more direct upgrades to a character that provide a bonus for the next run. Whatever the case, losing does not feel like a waste of time, and victory can be merely a first step on a long road.

But what’s key is that at least for a good portion of the early game, every run needs to provide some benefit. If the player isn’t making it to the end, they should be learning something that helps them or getting some character bonus. If the player does make it to the end and they’re meant to keep playing, they at least get something out of the process. And most importantly, the player needs to feel that benefit. They need to know that they’re acquiring information or see that character upgrade. It needs to be something that clearly helps the player the next time around.

This is one of those problems that a lot of looting games can run into. Because loot is often very randomized, players will often be searching for a specific piece of equipment and hoping it drops. Which means if you get the wrong piece, the time you’ve spent has been wasted. Players can put up with that feeling of waste for a time, but the longer it lasts the more fed up they will get. Players need something that they can feel is helping them from time to time. They need to feel like spending hours upon hours grinding for an item wasn’t wasted.

This tool is probably one of the easiest to capture in more linear games, and the hardest to capture in games that have a long lifespan. Something like Mario has levels that take you progressively through the game, and thus this problem is solved innately. But something like World of Warcraft or Destiny is built to keep people playing, and relies on those loot mechanics I mentioned. Which means they exist at cross purposes: the very things that are meant to keep people playing can also be the things that drive people away.

Engagement

Making the core gameplay loop something that is fun to do repeatedly is perhaps the most obvious solution, and yet it is probably the hardest thing to do. Because it requires coming up with something that people will want to do repeatedly. And this in part flies into the same problem: it only works as long as the player isn’t thinking about the fact that they’re doing something repeatedly.

So the idea here is that the gameplay is so much fun on its own that it serves as a distraction. You can be handed a bunch of quests that are all the same, or kill monsters over and over again for a paltry chance at a reward, or grind out experience to level up, and you don’t care because the game is just so much fun to play. It’s not impossible, but generally even good gameplay has a sort of shelf life, and eventually it becomes stale.

That said, when challenges can be posed to the player that test their knowledge of a game’s systems and force them to think consciously about how they’re playing, that can get them to focus on the task at hand. You’re going to face a powerful boss that is immune to certain kinds of damage, or which can kill you instantly if you aren’t careful, or regenerates health at a ridiculous rate. These challenges are all winnable, but they’re designed in such a way that you can’t just mindlessly attack. You have to think about the equipment you’re using or the skills you have and how you can make those interact to overcome the challenge.

These little puzzles can also serve as great teaching moments for players. If you wanted to encourage players to really optimize their play, putting these kinds of challenges are ways for them to learn on their own and develop new skills, rather than merely going to a guide and looking up the strategy. Of course, that depends on making sure that these challenges are attuned in a way that players can realistically feel like they have a chance, and that the solution lies within their grasp. Where a player is gatekept out of a challenge, the issue should be obvious and addressable – for example, “you’re not a high enough level to handle this challenge yet, come back at such-and-such point.” If players are gatekept for more arbitrary reasons, such as not having the exact right equipment and thus needing to go grind for hours upon hours, then the challenge loses its value – you’re forcing the player to think about the fact that “fun” first requires repetition.

This tool is going to be most useful for the kind of “post-game” content that usually receives the criticism of being repetitive. And yet, it also is going to eventually run into a similar problem as narrative content: it requires a bespoke challenge that takes time and effort to create, and so can’t be just endlessly refreshed. Even if players can play the challenge repeatedly, eventually they will “solve” it in a way that they can overcome it with little to no effort. Once the gameplay becomes trivialized, the feeling of repetition starts to set in.

Reward

Players are pretty conditioned at this point to expect some kind of reward in return for completing a task. Rewards are not always forthcoming in every game, and indeed a way that games can subvert player expectations is by not providing a reward or providing one that isn’t worth it. But most times, we’re going to want something for our time and effort, and the reward should fit those expectations.

When those expectations aren’t met, players can get frustrated. If the purpose of the subversion is to get players to question their relationship to a game, that can be fine. It can be executed poorly, but it can get players to think critically. But that said, in many games we’re not looking for that critical experience, and it’s not something that a developer is trying to provide.

Rewards can come in a variety of packages. Quests are the most obvious, but there can also be rewards for other forms of content. Which could include just running around. Looting games, for example, have randomized drops which include incredibly powerful weapons and armor. And yet, if the reward is too nebulous – when the chances of getting something you want are so slim that they are effectively nothing – then the result is not fun. Because once you understand the math behind these probabilities, you can calculate just how long it should take to actually get what you want, even if you play optimally.

The reason I bring all of this up is that a reward of some kind is a useful way to distract a player. Having something you want held back for arbitrary reasons tends to result in anger – why can’t I just have the thing? So the longer that reward is held back, the more we feel like we are being strung along, like we’re being tricked into playing.

The effective use of this tool relies not on having “rewards” in the vague sense, but in understanding what players are going to want and how to provide those rewards. I think there are a lot of failures here when it comes to games that try to expand gameplay through random equipment. The idea normally implemented is that any reward is sufficient. But it’s not, unless the game itself can be effectively built around that “any reward.” Instead, players tend to have a sense of something specific that they want, and it’s when that specific reward is withheld that players get frustrated. At that point, a generic reward does not provide satisfaction. Which means that any kind of randomness related to rewards needs some kind of workaround for the player – a way to limit how much time needs to be spent just to get that specific reward.

Other Players

We should by no means ignore the very important role that other people play in this whole process. A number of games – in fact some of the most repetitive games – are built with multiplayer in mind, and it is often that multiplayer that can help sustain those games.

Interaction with other players can distract us from repetition in two ways. The first is competition. Why is a fighting game or an arena shooter fun, despite the fact that it is not just repetitive, but perhaps involves some of the most repetitive action of any game? Because the core repetition we’re talking about – combat – is performed over a near infinite number of possibilities. Player vs. player content has the potential to provide variety so that even when we are dealing with repetition in the abstract sense, at no point does it feel repetitive. Combine with that bits of progress – rankings, unlocking new characters or cosmetic items, etc. – and all of this results in a game experience that can suck people in very easily with a simple design.

The second aspect that multiplayer adds is social interaction. Playing something with friends, or perhaps even making friends, can create a new structure on top of the game itself. The enjoyment of hanging out with others can cause us to not think about what we’re doing. Maybe our companions need to grind out some event, and so we help them out. And they help us out in turn. That give-and-take relationship can give play a sense of freedom that doesn’t need anything other than itself. As long as we have friends, we don’t need anything else.

Of course, this tool only works where multiplayer exists. And it only can apply to those who choose to engage with the game through multiplayer. One thing that can be done is to force social engagement. If some content is locked behind having a group of people, that can potentially lead to the formation of new social bonds which can keep people involved. But that could also entail cutting out certain players who wish to insist on a solo experience, who will find themselves unable to progress.

Concluding Remarks

None of the tools I’ve mentioned here are mutually exclusive. There are all sorts of strategies available to developers to tackle the problem of repetition. And these tools do not need to be used at every moment. At certain points in the game one tool might be more effective or relevant than others.

But what is key to thinking about what tool to use is understanding what players are doing and are expected to do at a given moment. If we are to send a player on a quest, how is that quest being presented to them? What have they learned to expect as a reward from that quest?

Are we going to ask the player to repeatedly run through an event? Then we should sure that they don’t need to do that event too many times, or making the event feel unique and varied each time, or instead splitting that process into various alternative events that they can play.

Are players expected to grind for something, whether it’s experience or an item? Then we want to make sure that the process is fairly smooth.

Asking these kinds of questions and trying to identify what parts of a game could start to feel repetitive is our starting point. Because our objective is then to figure out how to get players to ignore that repetition. In other words, how can we distract players from that repetition?