The Community *is* the High

I find it deliciously ironic that the acronym for World of Warcraft is wow. As James and others have pointed out, there are so many wow moments. Eric's rejoineder to James's post reminds me that social gaming creates an aura of wow. Our successes are more satisfying because they are shared, not only in the aftermath, as a child or spouse might share a significant accomplishment through anecdote over dinner, but shared in the moment they occur. We know that people bond, who have shared, in the moment, triumph over adversity or challenge. We know that social bonds enrich the human experience, for most people. I don't want to overanalyze.

ASIDE: Check out the Terra Nova commentary on a Jared Ranier posting, both of which offer an interesting take on the role of the collective.

I do want to think about identity a bit though. We have crafted, in our avatars, alternative identities with alternative competencies and opportunities to demonstrate competence. That is, we live is a social world that helps us be successful and be identified as successful. In some ways, it is a wonderful place to live. We can do well. We can show others we are doing well. Things are somewhat under our control. Rules are clear. Information and help abound to ensure we succeed. ... and it feels damn good!

The culture clearly values collaboration, indeed assumes it in some places (as we have each noted in entries elsewhere in the blog). Thus we can exist in a world where it is more than okay to ask for help, to give help, and to rely upon help to accomplish tasks. So, when we master a quest chain with help, we still feel success for ourselves. It is not diminished by the co-presence of helpful others. In fact, the experience is often enhanced by the presence of those who understand the challenge and have put shoulder to the wheel to help us.

The failures and unsuccessful moments are made less painful by the shared acknowledgement of difficulty. The only other situation I can think of like this is sport, where players know that on any given play or turn they too might chili dip the club face, throw an interception, hit into the net, or miss the unmissable slam-dunk...and it's *okay*. [picture of a bad day in STV]

Of course we learn and thrive and develop new identities of competent performance in this sort of environment. And, oddly, this does not preclude competition. It does not preclude assessment of performance. It does not preclude labeling of competence/skill levels. And everyone is *okay* with that.

Wow indeed.

p.s.
Hmmm, odd random thought... perhaps social gaming is inherently addicting because it is so forgiving and supportive. Most of us give up on things that are mean to us when we don't succeed in them. Hmmmm.