PLAYING THE CRISIS: VIDEO GAMES AND THE MOBILIZATION OF ANXIETY AND DESIRE BY ROBERT MEJIA DISSERTATION Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in Communications in the Graduate College of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, 2012 Urbana, Illinois Doctoral Committee: Professor Kent A. Ono, Chair Professor John Nerone Professor Clifford Christians Professor Robert A. Brookey, Northern Illinois University ABSTRACT This is a critical cultural and political economic analysis of the video game as an engine of global anxiety and desire. Attempting to move beyond conventional studies of the video game as a thing-in-itself, relatively self-contained as a textual, ludic, or even technological (in the narrow sense of the word) phenomenon, I propose that gaming has come to operate as an epistemological imperative that extends beyond the site of gaming in itself. Play and pleasure have come to affect sites of culture and the structural formation of various populations beyond those conceived of as belonging to conventional gaming populations: the workplace, consumer experiences, education, warfare, and even the practice of politics itself, amongst other domains. Indeed, the central claim of this dissertation is that the video game operates with the same political and cultural gravity as that ascribed to the prison by Michel Foucault. That is, just as the prison operated as the discursive site wherein the disciplinary imaginary was honed, so too does digital play operate as that discursive site wherein the ludic imperative has emerged. To make this claim, I have had to move beyond the conventional theoretical frameworks utilized in the analysis of video games. Though I am indeed indebted to these popular traditions of textual, ludic, and platform analysis, too often, I argue, they work to delimit the domain of the video game form, thereby obscuring our ability to grasp the “non-gaming” political force of digital play. Hence, the first two chapters operate to develop the historical perspective and theoretical framework needed for understanding how digital play has come to operate beyond the confines of conventional gaming. In establishing this rough historical perspective and theoretical framework, I am indebted to the best of what game studies has to offer, as well as to the works of James Carey, Michel Foucault, Paul Virilio, and Raymond Williams, for their conceptions of technologies as cultural practices that operate to codify the particular formation of various ii populations. If I am successful, my hope is that this dissertation might operate as part of an emerging tradition of critical game studies scholarship, willing to take seriously the totality of digital play. In this vein, I see my work as operating alongside the recent and ongoing works of Ergin Bulut, Patrick Crogan, Nick Dyer-Witheford, Aphra Kerr, Stephen Kline, Greig de Peuter, Roger Stahl, and others. My contribution, then, to this emergent field of critical game studies is that the video game form has come to operate as an engine of global anxiety in terms of its political economic, environmental, military, social, and cultural processes. Gaming practices carry with them a political and cultural gravity that has worked to mobilize various economic and military sectors, and though this has enriched some, so too has it brought about horrific results for various laboring populations, regional ecologies, and those on the wrong end of the militarized border. To those who might be turned away by the prospect of such a pessimistic take on the history and state of contemporary gaming politics, understand that I am neither a luddite nor an outsider to the gaming industry. I was born in 1982, and remember fondly looking forward to each new issue of Nintendo Power so that I might have the latest news on the most exciting upcoming games. Even today, I am implicated in that my gaming collection is possibly more vast than most, and I would argue passionately that Óscar Araujo and Nobuo Uematsu are amongst the most beautiful music composers, and that Hideo Kojima and Soraya Saga are amongst the greatest storytellers. And yet, as beautiful, inspiring, and moving as gaming can be, there is much that is horrific, revolting, and terrible about the industry as well. We cannot smile with good conscious at the pleasures afforded for us through the experience of digital play and simultaneously remain ignorant of the significant suffering undertaken on our behalf. It is my hope that this dissertation is a move towards good conscious. iii To Jennifer Ann House, for her constant reminder that intellectuals are the dominant group’s “deputies,” and whose love compels me to act otherwise. iv ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Writing a dissertation is hard. It is intellectually, physically, and emotionally draining. Though research of any kind is often a labor of love, love is not enough. During the course of writing this dissertation I struggled with my insecurities as often as I felt confident in my intellectual abilities. Near the beginning of this dissertation, I fractured my hand, and near the end, my body ached from the hours I had accumulated sitting at the computer over the course of a year. For every claim made with confidence lay another statement in need of more research, which raised more questions, necessitating further investigation. I am not complaining. There are harder demands on life than writing a dissertation: being a construction worker, like my father; or a full- time mother / part-time secretary, like my mother; to name a few. Those and other existences carry with them little individual prestige nor recognition, let alone an acknowledgements section. How petty intellectual insecurity, typing with a fractured hand, and the demands of more research seem in comparison. And yet, writing a dissertation is still hard, and, thus, this acknowledgements section is dedicated to those who made it less hard: by providing the intellectual, emotional, and physical support I so greatly needed over the course of its writing. I came to the University of Illinois to work with Kent Ono; and though his scholarship brought me here, it is his kindness and professional mentorship that I will remember. Kent pushed me and his other advisees to think big, embrace the discipline, but move beyond disciplinarity. His support encouraged me to work across the various departments and units at the University of Illinois, and for me and my colleagues to establish the Transnational Communications Research Focal Point Group, an interdisciplinary workshop and speaker series dedicated to placing media studies and transnational scholarship in conversation with one another. I believe I am a better scholar because of these experiences. John Nerone, likewise, not v only imbued with me an appreciation for historical research, but also had an uncanny knack for keeping me honest with his incisive criticism without crushing my soul in the process. Clifford Christian introduced me to the work of Heidegger, Ellul, and other so-called technological determinists, but most importantly served as a model of what it means to teach with unconditional love. Robert Brookey kept me honest with the game studies literature, but I will appreciate most his willingness to serve as a member of my examination and dissertation committee without hesitation, despite us never having met; and now that we do know each other, I look forward to many years of future collaboration and conversation. Reflecting upon my committee, I am reminded of the feelings I had when I first learned that Roland Barthes had died (many years ago) shortly after being hit by a laundry truck in Paris. Morbidity of this memory aside, the emotion evoked was that Roland Barthes was someone real, not just an idea—though that is all we have today. For many, so too is my committee just an idea: critical rhetorician, media historian, ethicist, and ludologist. Though there is nothing wrong with these labels, per se, and more or less accurate, I am grateful to have had the opportunity to witness something more than just the idea, and know that my committee was real. I have been fortunate to work with an outstanding ensemble of faculty during my time at the University of Illinois. Though only four would come to graciously serve as my committee members, I have been affected by the wisdom and passion of all the faculty members I have been fortunate enough to study under and/or work alongside. Teresa Barnes, Isabel Molina, and Fiona Ngô taught me about the nuances and intersections of feminism, gender, and race studies scholarship. Peter Fritzsche, Harry Liebersohn, and David Roediger, taught me the intricacies of historiography and how to conduct sound, respectable historical research. James Hay, Bruce Rosenstock, and Robert Rushing, expanded my understanding of continental philosophers, from vi Kant and Bergson to Lacan and Foucault. Cameron McCarthy served as both an instructor and mentor in teaching me the tradition of American and British cultural studies, as well as modeling this pedagogical tradition, in terms of encouraging the development of intellectual communities through collaborative book projects and journal publications. Further intellectual and emotional support was received from Anita Say Chan, CL Cole, Norman Denzin, Rayvon Fouché, Linda Herrera, Lisa Nakamura, Anke Pinkert, Sarah Projansky, Christian Sandvig, and Angharad Valdivia. To this list I should add the names of Denise Davis, Bonnie Howard, Andrea Ray, Phiavanh Sengsavanh, Bob Pollett, and Greg Zike, for behind every fantastic faculty member is often an equally fantastic, hardworking, and underappreciated staff member working diligently to make sure that everything is going smoothly. I am grateful to have worked under and alongside so many fantastic individuals, faculty and staff alike. Many of the ideas presented in this dissertation were fleshed out during the course of the many academic conferences and intellectual conversations I was fortunate to be a part.