A Feminist Content Analysis of Female Video Game Characters, and Interviews with Female Gamers
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“Pretty Good for a Girl”: A Feminist Content Analysis of Female Video Game Characters, and Interviews with Female Gamers Cardiff University School of Journalism, Media, and Culture Master of Philosophy (Journalism Studies) 2018 Elizabeth Munday Abstract Feminist media scholars have long sought to understand the representations of women in the media, in which women are consistently depicted as secondary to men, which they have used to highlight issues of gender relations. My research involved the analysis of representations of female characters in games and explored how female gamers make sense of them, providing a more in-depth look at women in the media, whilst also addressing issues of gender such as leisure time. The gendering of leisure is important as it provides a wider basis for my more nuanced arguments about video games and those who play them. Throughout my research I endeavoured to study not only how women are represented in video games, but also the experiences of female gamers and how they continue to interact with the gaming community. Drawing widely from existing feminist media research, I studied the common representations of women in video games, and what female gamers thought of them. I also researched their experiences as female gamers within the gaming community – how they had been treated as “gamers”, but also how they continued to engage and interact with the gaming community. In order to gather this information, I utilised Content Analysis to gather and analyse game content through further Visual Analysis. This provided me with a range of insights into common patterns in the representations of women across a wide range of currently popular games, such as the role of healer. As for the experiences and engagement of gamers, I utilised interviews to gather information from individuals and tracked patterns across their experiences as a whole. Most notable are the issues of abuse and harassment, but also how women continue to engage with gaming and create their own “safe spaces” within t he community both for themselves and others. Word count: 297 ii DECLARATION This work has not been submitted in substance for any other degree or award at this or any other university or place of learning, nor is being submitted concurrently in candidature for any degree or other award. Signed Elizabeth Munday (candidate) Date 31/12/18 (dd/mm/yy) STATEMENT 1 This thesis is being submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of MPhil Signed Elizabeth Munday (candidate) Date 31/12/18 (dd/mm/yy) STATEMENT 2 This thesis is the result of my own independent work/investigation, except where otherwise stated, and the thesis has not been edited by a third party beyond what is permitted by Cardiff University’s Policy on the Use of Third Party Editors by Research Degree Students. Other sources are acknowledged by explicit references. The views expressed are my own. Signed Elizabeth Munday (candidate) Date 31/12/18 (dd/mm/yy) STATEMENT 3 I hereby give consent for my thesis, if accepted, to be available online in the University’s Open Access repository and for inter-library loan, and for the title and summary to be made available to outside organisations. Signed Elizabeth Munday (candidate) Date 31/12/18 (dd/mm/yy) iii Table of Contents Chapter 1: Page: Introduction 1 Chapter 2: Literature Review 9 Chapter 3: Methodology 28 Chapter 4: Video Game Analysis Findings 45 Chapter 5: Interview Findings 69 Chapter 6: Conclusion 90 List of Figures 98 Bibliography 99 Appendix 116 - 1: Video Games Mentioned - 116 - 2: Survey Questions and Results - 120 - 3: Consent Form - 139 - 4: Full Character List (Content Analysis) - 142 - 5: Full Interview Transcripts - 274 Final word count (excluding Appendices): 42,921 vi Chapter 1: Introduction This research project came about largely due to my own experiences, and frustrations, as a female gamer. Whilst growing up, to my recollection, there was no one moment where I was introduced to video games – they were an integral part of my childhood, allowing me to make friends through a shared love of games such as the Pokémon series. Evenings at friends’ houses were spent playing games, or watching their older siblings play ones for which we were far too young to play. I also spent many nights awake, playing with my Gameboy under the covers, trying (and failing) to hide these night-time activities from my parents. Video games were, and still are, my preferred form of escapism, allowing me to experience adventures that would never exist in the real world. Though my family accepted it, to an extent, and friendships were forged around video games, it was not always easy. There were very few other girls who played video games – many of my friends were boys, and that meant I stood out. I was the “Other”, before I had even learnt the scholarly literature defining the term. There was an expectation as I grew up that I would grow out of this “tomboy” phase, would become more feminine, and leave video games behind – to be frank, it was the cause of many family arguments during my adolescence, and even into early adulthood. Aside from my experiences, I can remember clearly the first time I realised something about video games was not fair, and it became very apparent to me from then on that I had very few options to play as a woman character in the games I loved. For context, the series which started this thought process is also my favourite – The Legend of Zelda . I hold it close to my heart, but also recognise that it can be deeply flawed, just as other games can be too. It is an argument that many people have heard before, likely even if they are not familiar with video games: why can’t I play as Zelda? And why do I always have to save her? Why do I play as Link, a young boy, and not the Princess the series is named after? It was frustrating, and difficult to understand as anything other than unfair when I was younger. Gamergate In 2014, the Gamergate controversy began and shone a harsh light on the issues of sexism within video game culture. Gamergate started with a blog post by the ex- boyfriend of game developer Zoë Quinn, accusing her of unethical practice and utilising a previous sexual relationship with a video game journalist to guarantee positive press 1 for her indie games (Johnston, 2014). Though the accusations were false, they gained traction and lead to the harassment of Quinn via doxing (having her private information published online), rape threats, and death threats – a dangerous misogyny which was thinly veiled under the concern for the ethics of video games journalism (Johnston, 2014). Prior to the events that became “Gamergate”, and around the time I began to study gender inequality in earnest, the experiences of feminist media critic, Anita Sarkeesian came to media attention. In 2012, Sarkeesian launched a Kickstarter (public funding) campaign to create the Tropes vs. Women in Video Games series, a series of videos highlighting the issues female characters face within video games, e.g. being the Damsel in Distress. Though the campaign well exceeded its funding goal, it also led to Sarkeesian being subjected to harassment, including death threats, and rape threats, just as Quinn would experience in the following years. The threats continued, and worsened during the events of Gamergate, even resulting in bomb threats during Sarkeesian’s public speaking events (Alberty, 2014). Gamergate is seen as the crystallisation of the misogyny of video game culture, where individuals “used Gamergate as a convenient cover to engage in harassment” (Massanari, 2015:334). The movement was supposedly about the ethics of video game journalism, but ultimately devolved into “concentrated harassment of game developers, feminist critics, and their male allies” (Massanari, 2015:334). The events highlighted many of the issues faced by many female gamers and developers over the years, with the darker side of the gaming community being shown to the world through platforms such as Reddit and 4chan. Thankfully, much of the gaming community dismissed Gamergate’s pretence of “ethics”, recognising that whilst there were a few who were genuinely concerned about ethics, it was primarily an attack on women (Hathaway, 2014).The events of Gamergate were extreme, to say the least, but if these two women were experiencing such things, and if I had also faced some resistance in life due to my interest in video games, I began to wonder how and why other women might have shared similar experiences. I would argue that Gamergate was a turning point in how many people viewed video games. Not only were female gamers and developers the victims, but the vitriol also spread into academia, with Shira Chess and Adrienne Shaw becoming part of a supposed “conspiracy” regarding gaming and a supposed feminist “conquest” (Chess & Shaw, 2015). Academic interest in video games had been increasing steadily in the 2 years prior to Gamergate, all whilst women in the industry itself were becoming the targets of abuse. Gamergate effectively showed just how much more research needed to be done into the issues of gender and gaming – not just on Gamergate itself, but the state in which the gaming community has been left in. Regarding the importance of studying video games, it is also worth noting the large- scale human and financial costs that go into making a game. Towards the end of this research project, the highly anticipated Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018) was finally released after years of delays. Along with the release was much speculation about the cost that went into making the game, with financial estimates sitting at around $170 million for staff pay during the development period (Takahashi, 2018).