The tightrope that must be walked when producing global media such as games may as well be a multinational one strung up between the top of the Eiffel Tower and the Empire State Building. Crossing it is a treacherous balancing act indeed. Aimed at various groups from a multitude of cultural, ethnic, and socioeconomic backgrounds, these digital creations have to appeal to the senses and sensibilities of an incredibly vast and continuously expanding audience, especially as the industry grows and borders continue to dissolve.

It was more clearly brought to my attention when a feminist gaming blog, with the very utilitarian title of ‘Feminist Gamers’, were made privy of their own accord to a roundtable I organised on PALGN. While the topic of the original discussion had been on sexism in games, somehow amid the chatter about gender representations, the issue of games containing controversial symbolism in general was brought up. One example that stood out to me immediately – probably because I was spending far too much time in Azeroth at the time – was that of some NPCs strung up by nooses from the trees of World of Warcraft’s Tirisfal Glades. A US based commenter with the username ‘Moira’ made the point that, for her, this was an incredibly confrontational sight.

Reading this, it struck me as odd that myself – the kind of guy that goes into a rant at the television news every time there’s as much as a hint that they’re going to be unintentionally racist, sexist or anything else-ist (you see, I’m not the judgmental one, they are) – had never even considered that these dangling bodies could be seen as a symbol containing cultural memories of years of slavery, genocide and racially motivated killings. To me they’d just been a couple of unfortunate digital denizens, strung up with the sole purpose of creating a sense of dread and oppressiveness, and I imagine many Australians would have seen the same.

Although one would suspect that the audience of a feminist gaming blog would be more sensitive to the unintentional iconography of the hangings, it made me wonder how many images had passed me by that were loaded with messages for some, but not others. Not only that, but considerations on how developers could possibly ever effectively create a game for a worldwide audience with an incredibly vast set of sensitivities kept my mind running into mental dead ends.

Anyone who has studied first year Linguistics or Sociology learns about the school of thought known as Semiotics. This world view breaks down images into the signifier (a thing, text or visual image), the signified (the meaning that the image has for the viewer). It’s a fairly basic concept, but one that is rarely discussed in relation to videogames. Developers often get these things right: for example Fable 2’s dog conveys ideas of companionship, unconditional trust, and a masculine form of power to many in the West. However, there have been a number of times where those involved in the games industry have gotten things quite wrong, often taking them to social and political areas in which they’d prefer not to tread.

A signifier does not always relate in an obvious manner to the thing that is to be signified. For example: the signifier of a ringing bell led Pavlov’s dog to the signified concept of food, but to a receptionist the signified concept is that there’s someone who demands their attention at the front desk. And when that metaphorical bell rings to a big enough audience and it’s something more serious and upsetting than a meal or a customer then there’s trouble in store for the person doing the ringing. This is especially the case if that bell’s in a set that they’re relying on to bring in their paycheck.

There are numerous reasons why an image can stir up intense emotional responses in people. A person’s national identity and how their collective past speaks to their present, the impact of the current political and social climate on their lives, various cultural taboos, and even their own life experiences all affect an individual’s interpretation of material. Videogames, like all other media, have trampled on many a toe in their day, and they’re sure to stomp around carelessly in the future. It’s therefore important that we analyse these awkward, and oft-times offensive, moments in order to further understand what gaming’s audience demands of the medium.

Next in a series of posts on Loaded Images: National Neuroses