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Comfort Through Gaming: Accomplishing Anything in SimEarth

A New Yorker article published in 2006 quoted Will Wright as being an advocate of the Montessori method of teaching. Wright argues that kids given sufficient materials and left to their own devices will educate themselves far more thoroughly than any structured program.

SimCity was apparently born from the legendary game designer's love for self-discovery:

”SimCity comes right out of Montessori—if you give people this model for building cities, they will abstract from it principles of urban design.”

Which is a valid point of view if you're a genius like Wright, but the average SimCity player is eventually just going to write “PENIS” with railroad tracks before giving up, Montessori education or no Montessori education.

I am very much an average Sim player. I did well enough with SimCity for the Super Nintendo and (gasp) Commodore 64. When I picked up SimEarth for the SNES (developed by FCI instead of Maxis), I expected the game to merely be a global re-imagining of SimCity, intuitive and easy to jump into. Instead, I was met with something almost completely different that required a bit more book learning than “Commercial zones do really well next to residential zones.” SimEarth is full of controls, dials, variables, and there is little graphic reward: you won't see massive cities bristle from the wilds as civilisation progresses, and full-scale nuclear war is disappointingly toothless. Yet, something about the SNES installment of the earth simulator is laid-back to the point of being almost therapeutic. I never developed my totalitarian Tyrannosaurus Rex empire because I largely had no idea what I was doing, but I was content to try over and over.

about the blogger

John Constantine, our superhero, was raised by birds and then attended Penn State University. He is currently working on a novel about a fictional city that exists only in his mind. John has an astonishingly extensive knowledge of Scientology. Ultimately he would like to learn how to effectively use his brain. He continues to keep Wu-Tang's secret to himself.

Derrick Sanskrit is a self-professed geek in a variety of fields including typography, graphic design, comic books, music and cartoons. As a professional hipster graphic designer, his recent clients have included Nerve, Pitchfork and MoCCA, among others.

Amber Ahlborn - artist, writer, gamer and DigiPen survivor, she maintains a day job as a graphic artist. By night Amber moonlights as a professional Metroid Fanatic and keeps a metal suit in the closet just in case. Has lived in the state of Washington and insists that it really doesn't rain as much as everyone says it does.

Nadia Oxford is a housekeeping robot who was refurbished into a warrior when the world's need for justice was great. Now that the galaxy is at peace (give or take a conflict here or there), she works as a freelance writer for various sites and magazines. Based in Toronto, Nadia prizes the certificate from the Ministry of Health declaring her tick and rabies-free.

Bob Mackey is a grad student, writer, and cyborg, who uses the powerful girl-repelling nanomachines mad science grafted onto his body to allocate time towards interests of the nerd persuasion. He believes that complaining about things on the Internet is akin to the fine art of wine tasting, but with more spitting into buckets.

Joe Keiser has a programming degree from Johns Hopkins University, a tiny apartment in Brooklyn, and a fake toy guitar built in the hollowed-out shell of a real guitar. He writes about games and technology for a variety of outlets. One day he will stop doing this. The day after that, police will find his body under a collapsed pile of (formerly neatly alphabetized) collector's edition tchotchkes.

Cole Stryker is an American freelance writer living in York, England, where he resides with his archeologist wife. He writes for a travel company by day and argues about pop culture on the internet by night. Find him writing regularly here and here.

Peter Smith is like the lead character of Irwin Shaw's The 80-Yard Run, except less athletic. He considers himself very lucky to have this job. But it's a little premature to take "jack-off of all trades" off his resume. Besides writing, travelling, and painting houses, Pete plays guitar in a rock trio called The Aye-Ayes. He calls them a 'power pop' band, but they generally sound more like Motorhead on a drinking binge.