Maybe this is nothing more than an indication of a pessimistic attitude, but the point I was trying to make is that the process of designing the initial verbs that are available to the player is also inherently a process of defining what verbs aren’t available to the player, which is in a sense “crippling” them. That’s really all I was trying to get at with the implication about the only difference being how loose the ropes are to begin with.

Obviously, I recognize that there is a difference between trying to provide as much freedom as possible from the outset as opposed to purposely shortening the list of available player verbs solely for the sake of being able to parcel out that freedom gradually to create a manufactured sense of progression. In that sense, I agree that it’s an apt metaphor.

I don’t think so. What about a platformer? Look at Super Mario World. At least in terms of verbs, you’re able to do almost everything you possibly can right from the start. There’s no “unlocking” Mario’s moves. The only thing that’s unlocked is new content and new environments. Granted, some special powerups are unlocked, but in early Mario games the unique powerups were almost a function of the environment itself (look at Kuribo’s shoe as an example).

Take a look at the first Zelda game too. If I recall correctly, you can technically go anywhere on the world map right from the start if you know where you’re going and if you have amazing reflexes. Yes, you have fewer upgrades and resources, but it’s possible to get there.

Jagged Alliance 2 is another game along these lines. You can blaze a trail straight for the capital city — you’ll probably die and should play the game in a more “correct” order, but if you’re extremely good you can do it and win the game very quickly.

It seems like there are plenty of games that only cripple the player in terms of resources rather than in terms of verbs. Also, I think Miyamoto’s metaphor is apt. If you’re tying up a player (literally allowing them to do almost nothing) and then granting them more freedom, that is different from giving them a fair degree of freedom and then giving them more. The metaphor is transformed from freeing a person who you’ve tied up into something more akin to teaching a student. You give a student freedom to learn but also boundaries. As they learn, you expand their horizons.

If the game at all stages feels complete and the character still progresses, then you’ve achieved the second. If the player feels like they are being unfairly restrained or limited then you’ve ended up in the first. JRPGs suffer from how they place barriers in front of the player progression. It’s either a case of “You don’t have the correct arbitrary item to proceed, go find it.” or “You are not powerful enough to defeat the boss, go get exp.” In both cases the player is faced with a lack that must be filled before they can proceed.

It’s tricky when you think about the various games that he has been involved in though. If you take Zelda, then it’s a game with some constraints, but many upgrades. The player feels more powerful as he progresses are more options open up to him as he collects items. There’s still the barriers that stops progression until a required item is found, and it’s required to prevent the player from getting stuck in a puzzle he isn’t prepared for.

So then the problem isn’t whether or not the construct exists, but whether it enhances or detracts from the player’s experience. JRPGs are often gameplay lackluster and only give the player a vague sense of progress through the rope-loosening mechanism. In fact, just thinking about what types of games that use it, and it’s easy to tell which ones use it poorly and which ones use it well.

The reason I’m curious is because Miyamoto’s philosophy here almost seems more indicative of a sandbox or open world style of game design, and I’m wondering what you see as the difference between such games and the average JRPG in this regard. Is it ultimately just a matter of how loose the ropes are, or if that a gross oversimplification of your stance?

C’mon Darius, everyone knows Miyamoto never had to work for press; he’s been coasting on nepotism even since his father got him that job at Nintendo. No wonder we’re only just now catching wind of his penchant for abduction — some folks on the inside have clearly been covering for him. All I know is, if Iwata goes missing, the first place I’m looking is under Miyamoto’s tea table.

Have you played Chime? I wanted to as soon as I saw the first video clip, but it’s not on PC or PSN (yet?), only 360 Arcade. Let us know what you think.