In the book, To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee, we see the journey of a young child learning about the real world, escaping their childhood premonitions and seeing the injustices of race and how certain groups are put down in society just because of that group treatment in the past. The game industry started off with basic arcade games that required payment for each game played, and largely targeted children and adolescents, as they're young minds would hopefully not realize that these games were meant to be impossibly difficult as to extract the most profit. So the seeds had been planted for this new type of media; a trap for children to lose their allowances accomplishing nothing and most likely begging their parents for more quarters so they can finally put that feeling of “I was so close that time!” to rest. This frightening many parents into a scare that their children were being made into addictive adults with no sense of willpower. However, this was just the beginning. With the massive success of arcade games, larger industries and experimental methods started to pop up. The first home consoles were appearing in the stores with their games, and their pixel graphics and iconic soundtracks. Games like Super Mario Bros in 1985 introduced many players to the idea of local multiplayer. A space where teamwork would be the only ideal way forward, teaching the new generation of players how to work together with your peers effectively. This is something that our American Schooling system has always stressed to students, as it's implications in the adult world are paramount. However, as early game companies like Electronic Arts and Nintendo began to move into the digital era, their staff began to include people who grew up with Super Mario and M.U.L.E., and the industry itself had shifted from strictly a children's pastime, to a new form of media for all to enjoy, similar to film, music, and literature.

The problem we see today is the same fear from the industry’s beginnings as roguelike adventures and endless games of increasingly difficult levels, where people fear Rockstar’s Grand Theft Auto V turns harmless teens into chaotic criminals. For many, these are sensationalized ads meant to grab the attention of gullible parents, because news companies need profits to stay afloat. Also, only a small number of studies have actually been done on the topic, and their results haven’t concluded that games cause reduced empathy or violent behavior. In fact, a study done at Brock University dove into this back in 2012, finding that the games subject played correlated with their behavior, but that this behavior existed before the gaming ever took place. In other words, people with violent tendencies may be attracted to darker, more violent video games, but just because a normal person plays a violent game, they won't be indoctrinated into being more violent, or committing acts of crime.
Other arguments have been made about games harming eyesight, desensitizing players to horrific acts, and being dangerously addicting. However, Sara Winters, an adult living Ocular Albinism, experienced an increase in her eyesight of 200% over two years, going from 200/20 vision, to 100/20 vision after being exposed to the games Breakout and Pokémon Red for her Game Boy during her youth. As an adult, she helps educate visually impaired children, using similar games that encourage reading and coordination to help her students get better in a way that comes naturally; having fun. Also, some groups make the statement that games desensitize players to the terrible things that occur on-screen. Such as horror games and violent action shooters depicting gore and grisly crimes. Though, this is the same case with violent movies, horror books, and even the news, which constantly depicts crimes and tragedies to increase ratings, so why should games take the blame, and be forced to censor themselves, when horrific imagery in H.P. Lovecraft has gone uncensored for years. Additionally, people have said that games are addicting, using Skinner-Box mechanics to reel in players to a never-ending loop of play that takes over their lives, getting them kicked out of college, ruining relationships, and tormenting the player an activity they don't really enjoy, but can't stop sinking their life into. Many people can admit to this, even very popular YouTubers like James Portnow of Extra Credits and Austin Hourigan from ShoddyCast, but they tell a different story. The games didn't cause the problem, there was already a problem, that games were just an outlet for. As Austin put it: “...it’s not just the games themselves causing the compulsion, but rather they're just a symptom of something lacking in someone's life. Either autonomy, a sense of purpose, or, maybe, like in my case, a state of mental illness.” Thus, it's not that games are somehow evil, or addictive, or worse than any other form of media. Sure there are bad developers and shovelware, but this true with all expressive mediums, and games shouldn't be treated any differently just because their troubled beginnings.

Games can also be a force for good, not just a source of entertainment. Undertale by Toby Fox is an outstanding example. Where most developers would make a colorful, eighty-hour RPG in an underground, fantasy setting, with the common features we've come to expect; grinding in a zone to level up, beating all the bosses, and defeating some grand villain, Undertale told a very different story. In Undertale, by all means, you could still do all those things, but the game questioned the morals of that fact in a way that most triple A game industries haven't done for their entire existence. You could go the way of most games, slaughtering everything in your path until the fateful end, when you've reached the highest level, with the best gear, when it's time to fight to final boss, and you realize, you're the bad guy. In order to avoid this however, you have to painstakingly persevere through frustration and show mercy to the opponents and monsters that mean you harm, showing that, doing the right thing isn't always easy. Other games like Battlefield 1 show a great deal of respect towards veterans, giving players a singleplayer campaign that isn't solely supposed to be entertaining, but also, especially in cutscenes and the opening minutes of gameplay, show the futility of war, and the struggles real soldiers face, so that, just for a brief moment, you come close to perhaps understanding the dread of being in the trenches waiting to die, or coming home to world that just wants to weep for you, and pity you as you are haunted by the scars of your past. Games also can instill empathy in players, as games tackle darker elements of the human experience that other media simply can not. This War of Mine does this by showcasing some awful choices during your gameplay. For example, while out scavenging for supplies you desperately need, you hear a young woman who is about to be raped. You could rush in there to save her, but the criminal is well armed, and you don't have a weapon. You'd be putting you and the people who are counting on you to bring back water and medicine in danger by doing this, but you might save this woman. Or you could ensure that the family you've made makes it another day in this harsh world, but you'll have to live with the knowledge that you left this poor woman without even trying to save her. This gives players a new understanding of the tragically difficult choices people in underdeveloped and war-torn nations have to face on a daily basis. Giving players a new appreciation for their own lives, and empathy for others that have to make these impossible choices. It just wouldn't be the same watching that choice unfold in a theatre, or reading it in a book as it would be to actually be forced to make it yourself.

Games are still young; they only really began to catch speed forty years ago, and only in the last fifteen or so have they really began establishing themselves as a true form of media in which people of all walks of life can play and be affected by. Just because games have a history of exploiting children out of their parents money so they can make a profit doesn't mean that the new companies and developers on the scene shouldn’t be able make something amazing and atmospheric for all people to immersed into. Books depict a new world for us to reconstruct in our minds, films show us that world in ways we couldn't conceive, and games give us the chance to interact with that world in a very real way. It is foolish to say that video game companies shouldn't be allowed to continue making games that tackle serious topics solely on the basis that some desperate news stations said they're dangerous, or because of their somewhat questionable history, especially when they can teach us ideas and emotions we've never known.

Despite all of this, however, games are still being censored on the claim that they’re too mature for young audiences, but games aren’t just childsplay anymore. When games are mature and dark, telling a sophisticated, tragic, or hopeful tales of normal people who, by the player’s own willpower and inner strength to keep going despite the difficulty of this particular boss, or whatever the game tends to feature, sure young people will try it, simply because that’s what kids do, they break the rules, play games with M ratings, and watch R rated movies; it isn’t Spec Ops: The Line’s Fault that your child that your child wasn’t ready to experience the gritty, self-loathing terror that came with playing it. Games can show us what it means to literally “climb into [someone else’s] skin and walk around in it" (Lee 87), and feel what our movie and book protagonists feel. We make their tough choices, overcome their insurmountable challenges, and understand that, in the seemingly hopeless last moments of their world, that just maybe we can save everyone we’ve come to love by giving ourselves up, with no care of our own survival, only the saving of this world. Games can allow us to stand with our heroes, be them, feel the fear of death, the curiosity of the unexplored, the blood-pumping stress of a ticking clock, the joy of camaraderie, the pain of loss, and the tragedy of sacrifice and that is truly a beautiful thing.