Our Aversion to Loss
Human beings have an aversion to loss. In saying that, I don't mean that we dislike losing at games, although most do not. Rather, I'm talking about the anguish we feel when losing something we once possessed or were connected with. In Geoffrey Engelstein's book Achievement Relocked, Geoffrey defines loss aversion this way: "Losing something makes you feel worse than gaining the same thing makes you feel good." For example, if I gave you one hundred dollars, you would feel pretty good. But then imagine, on the way home, the money falls out of your pocket, and you lose it. When you realize that the money is gone, you will feel a much deeper emotion for the loss than you did for the gain.
With such a visceral response, it should not be surprising to discover that we struggle to approach this subject rationally. Geoffrey demonstrates this point by taking you through theoretical exercises and real-world game examples. Over and over again, when presented with choices that contain the opportunity for loss, people struggle to make the choice that would be most beneficial. Englestein highlights three fundamental principles based on his examples:
People prefer sure gains over a chance for a larger gain.
People will take a risk to avoid a sure loss.
People treat all small probabilities the same and just compare the gain and loss.
To put it succinctly, the possibility of loss clouds our judgment.
Many years ago, I listened to a sermon by John Piper in which he remarked: we weren't made for endings. He made that observation while standing in his boyhood home for the last time after the death of a parent. I hadn't thought about his comment for several years, but it was the first thing that came to mind while reading this book. Our loss aversion makes total sense when viewed from a biblical perspective. Of course, we are bad at approaching loss rationally, and why it cuts us so deeply—we weren't made for loss! We were created to give freely and not have things taken. Loss is a consequence of sin, an aberration we must endure until we are reunited with our Savior.
When Jesus sent out his disciples, he gave them this advice, "Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves." (Matthew 10:16) For me, a book like Achievement Relocked is analogous to Jesus's instruction. It equips us with a comprehensive view of the psychological techniques used by game designers to shape and influence a player's emotions and experience with a game. As with most knowledge, who benefits from it depends on how it is applied. Let's first look at some negative examples so that we can finish on a positive note.
On the gambling side of gaming, casinos have a vested interest in overcoming our aversion. The quicker they can part players from their money, the more they make. One solution to this problem is to add layers of abstraction between players and their cash. It's much easier to get players to make riskier decisions and increase their risk tolerance when playing with chips or digital credits. Another technique they employ is the near miss. They have discovered that players are more motivated to continue playing if they believe they almost won the last game. Geoffrey writes, "Video slot machines are specifically designed to take advantage of this effect. Because the animation of the wheels is strictly under computer control, once the random number generator decides the player has lost, the animation of the wheels stopping is designed to show the player that they almost won—just being one symbol away from winning." These examples may be offputting; they were particularly distasteful to me after writing about gaming addiction. Nevertheless, to be wise as a serpent requires a thorough understanding of the techniques employed.
As we pointed out, the gambling industry uses this knowledge to benefit itself. Nonetheless, the positive flip side is that we can use this knowledge to help shape games to be more enjoyable for the player. Geoffrey gives a personal example of this from his career with a game he designed called Pit Crew. In play tests, he discovered that people reacted emotionally to a penalty mechanic in the game that moved a player backward. The fact that the rule took progress away emotionally removed players from the experience and diminished their overall enjoyment of the game. His solution—give opponents a boost. Mathematically it accomplishes the same thing but bypasses the negative emotions. Geoffrey said, "It was much less emotional to give your opponent a boost than to have to give something back." Further, this solution thematically strengthened the game because boosting is a familiar mechanic in racing games.
Up to this point, all of the examples have been around removing loss or softening its sting; this may give you the false impression that you may want to avoid it altogether. However, that is not the case. Presenting the player with the possibility of loss can be a compelling device that magnifies the stakes, adds weight to decisions, and slows down play. Loss is a valuable tool in a game designer's toolbox, just like it is for God. Job noted, "The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away." We pray to avoid it and complain when we're going through it, but sometimes God allows us to experience loss to mold us and bring us closer to him. He uses it intentionally out of love and for a purpose. Likewise, game designers can include it with care and deliberation to consciously shape a player's experience.
On a final note: there is considerably more to this book that I could not include, such as The Endowment Effect, The Framing Effect, Utility Theory, Endowed Progress Effect, and more. It's a short book but crammed with valuable information. Achievement Relocked is the third book I've read in the Playful Thinking Series from MIT Press, and their series has become some of the most insightful books on game design and theory I've read in years. If you have received any value from my article, you will find Geoffrey's book even more valuable. God bless.
