In Game of Thrones the character Varys poses a riddle. Three men each command a swordsman to kill the other two. One man is a king, one is a rich man, one is a priest. The question, then, is who among the three has the most power, and therefore the ability to command the swordsman? Who lives and who dies? After some debate Varys gives his own interpretation: “Power resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less.” In other words, it’s a trick, but one with profound consequence for all involved. In many ways, non-linearity in gaming is a similar trick. It exists when and where we think it exists, and our perceptions are based not on the thing itself, but on our belief (or lack of belief) in it.
Non-linearity is both one of the most praised and most problematic concepts in game design. On one hand, some designers and critics argue for the absolute centrality of non-linearity in game design, fetishizing and conflating the idea of player choice with non-linearity. This perspective argues that games must be made up of decisions that impact the outcome of the game, thus leading to non-linearity, otherwise they’re just films with buttons to press. In other words, more choice = fewer predefined options = non-linearity (this perspective is also used to discount the role of stories in games, but that’s another post!).
Of course, video games are rule-bound systems with hard limits on player action and ability. Even sandbox games, which we might call the most “open” genre in gaming, still put substantial limits on what players can and can’t do—no matter how hard you try, even combinations of materials that might seem logical in Minecraft will never produce any objects based on the limitations the game system puts on crafting. These kinds of limitations become even more apparent when you begin to look at a more narrative-based game. Skyrim may in theory let you define your character and progression through the world, but each quest line can generally only be solved in a limited number of ways. In other words, Skyrim may have more lines (possible paths through the game world) than Legend of Zelda (which is linear by nearly every definition), but Skyrim is still presenting the player with fairly limited options and agency them. So, some argue that any gesture toward non-linearity is illusory.
From a design perspective, then, we have something of an impasse. Obviously players like the idea of non-linearity- they like feeling that their choices are authentic and that the results of their actions flow naturally from the decisions they’ve made. At the same time, games have to contain limitations, whether they are for mechanical or narrative purposes; we can’t program for a world of infinite options and possibilities. Achieving the “feeling” of non-linearity is essentially a two-fold process: anticipating player desires and creating moments of agency in otherwise linear systems.
Anticipating player desires to create a feeling of “non-linearity” simply means ensuring players never want to do something they can’t do. Mike Stout gives an excellent example of this in a Gamasutra article on level design in the original Legend of Zelda. Stout explains that while his recollection of playing the game implied to him that the dungeons were nonlinear and that he “[got] to the end only because of [his] mighty gaming talents,” in fact the rooms in the dungeon have an amazing amount of cohesion and flow to them—the fact that they seem otherwise captures how well Miyamoto was able to gently guide the player. Well-designed games don’t let players do everything; they simply let players do everything that naturally occurs to them.
Another great strategy for inducing a sense of non-linearity in an otherwise fairly rigid system is to introduce moments of creative non-linearity. Skyrim, and indeed most of the Elder Scrolls games, are fine examples of this. On a macro level the games are very linear. Few quests have the potential to play out with more than superficial differences in their resolution (perhaps an extra quest item for not being seen, for instance). Narratively, the game is highly structured. From a tactics perspective, however, players are given far more freedom. Will you charge into a dungeon in full plate swinging a two-handed sword and guzzling health potions as you smash your way to the conclusion, or will you gracefully tiptoe forward, alternating between killing enemies you can’t avoid and passing undetected around ones you can? The Elder Scrolls series has built character customization (in terms of functionality and mechanics) into something of an art from, meaning that each new scenario is an opportunity for players to make meaningful and profound decision about how their character will proceed. These decision help create a strong sense of non-linearity, even as the quest progression remains remarkably linear.
