Arthur Morgan sets out on a hunting expedition along the banks of the Upper Montana River to gather the provisions needed to feed the entire Van Der Linde gang. He sees the perfect prey: a white-tailed deer, head down drinking water from the riverbank. He saddles himself from his trusty horse, equips his bow and grabs several arrows on landing. It starts hunting mode and stealthily stalks its prey from the wind until it has reached the optimal distance and takes shelter behind a tree.
Arthur carefully draws an arrow from his quiver, notches it to his bow and slowly applies tension to the bowstring. He focuses on making a clean kill, nailing the heart of the white-tailed deer. He lets go of his bowstring. The arrow whistles through the air. Suddenly, something startles the deer, causing the arrow to miss the heart and plunge into the lungs instead. We hear the pained, heartrending growl of the wounded deer. Arthur trudges over to him and unsheaths his knife. With compassion he puts the animal out of his misery. The Van Der Linde gang will be well fed for a few days. However, as a player, this hunting activity left me having to reevaluate my opinion of the relationship between video games and wildlife.
As a child I have always had an affinity with animals and nature. Much of this came from learning about dinosaurs. Who wouldn’t be surprised to know that giant reptiles roamed the earth millions of years ago? I have always known that animals are an integral part of the world and must be protected.
Red Dead Redemption 2 was revolutionary for me, as it was the first open world game where the animals and ecosystem felt real. The graphical realism allowed me to experience nature without the limitations of my disability: the main hook for me was exploring and enjoying my own experience of the game outside of the main story. I spent hours tracking animals, dying from ambushes from wolf packs, stupidly running into a crocodile’s jaws or standing on cliff edges, trying to find an elusive bald eagle. Everything to finally complete the comprehensive compendium.
The negative aspect of that realism for me was the graphic act of skinning animals. It looked and felt too real. The amount of detail in the skinning process became unpleasant to watch, especially on larger animals, due to the longer duration of the process. In the first Red Dead Redemption, I had no problem with hunting activities because the graphics weren’t powerful enough to replicate anything close to reality. Red Dead 2 meant I couldn’t look away.
Elsewhere, The Last Of Us Part 2 struck me the same way when dogs were introduced as enemies. I always tried to sneak around them, but in the end I inevitably had to kill a few due to unskillful stealth. When it first happened, I had to pause the game to process guilt and responsibility for my actions. Why should I feel responsible for my actions? It’s just a game, right? However, with the realism of this fidelity, it’s hard to justify to yourself that your actions are only in a game. You hear realistic sounds of an animal in pain or owners calling their dog’s names, and it evokes real emotions: empathy and an aversion to causing that pain again.
Luckily, I recently played Alba: A Wildlife Adventure, such a healthy game about celebrating the natural world and emphasizing the message of care and respect for the planet. As the young protagonist Alba, you are given a camera to take pictures of birds that you discover as you explore a small open world. It was so much fun to play because I felt connected to the birds. In other games I would just see birds as feathers useful for making arrows! It highlighted an internal dilemma I have with how nature is depicted in games. Inevitably, open world games will have to limit the way players can interact with the world. That’s why most interactions with animals revolve around hunting, turning nature into a commodity that can be exploited to our benefit.
However, a major shift is taking place. Think of that one wish that so many players have in dog friend games: I want to pet the dog! Is this spreading further? Far Cry 6 allowed you to bond with multiple pet amigos, and one of the cutest picks was Chorizo the Dachshund with wheels for hind legs. It’s impossible not to want to pet him or call him a good boy after he helped you ambush Anton Castillo’s soldiers.
The highly anticipated Bethesda game Starfield is an ambitious space RPG with 1000 colony worlds to explore. The gameplay reveal showed us the mysterious rock moon Kreet, with several aliens in the environment. This made me think about whether your character could scan or understand the creatures, if you could choose a xenobiological background. This would increase immersion and investment with different planet ecologies rather than viewing all creatures in general as enemies or commodities, wouldn’t it?
Then there is such a thing as Stray. What a fantastic concept. You explore a dilapidated cyber city through the eyes of a cat as you unravel an ancient mystery. Stray gives the player a unique four-legged perspective on environmental navigation and the ability to perceive and interact with the world like a cat. I think more games should have animal protagonists. It gives us the chance to celebrate animals through gaming, and the added empathy only enhances our appreciation for nature. Stray’s approach makes sense. Animals give us so much pleasure in both the real world and the game world, so more games should focus on providing deeper interactions with animals, rather than just seeing them through the lens of hunting activities.
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