The Stanley Parable: Making philosophy fun
Hello,
If you are unaware, The Stanley Parable is a video game originally released in 2013, and later re-released 2022 under the title The Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe. The player takes control of the titular character Stanley, as the present and future actions of his life are being dictated by a disembodied narrator (played by Kevan Brighting). The player is presented with a series of branching paths, in reaction to the suggestions or commands from the Narrator, and thereby making a deliberate impact on the outcome of the story.
The Stanley Parable is a game about choices, and each possible ending carefully deconstructs the nature of game design, story telling, decisions, and freewill from various angles. If The Stanley Parable was born as a thought experiment instead of a video game, it would probably be found on the pages of some philosophical textbook, probably to illustrate of the illusion of freewill, or even serve as an introduction to decision theory.
I wouldn’t try to claim that any philosophy in The Stanley Parable is particularly earth-shaking or profound. But what I do find interesting, is how the game is able to communicate these philosophical concepts in a very accessible and enjoyable way. Each concept isn’t merely laid out for the player to think about, but also made the butt of a joke for the player to laugh at as well, making the entire experience that much more memorable. The Narrator effectively fills the same role as Omega, if Omega was constantly roasting you with sarcastic British humor. It’s very accessible for people who may not have the professional experience or technical background to digest the average philosophical essay.
To some extent, The Stanley Parable defies conventional definitions of being a “game” at all. It gives no puzzle, no score, and no win condition to the player, only choices and endings. It doesn’t fit any common genre of video game, and instead is usually categorized as a “walking simulator”. It fits more as an “experience” than a “game”, if that experience is equivalent to the education of an undergraduate philosophy course. And yet, I am amazed how even small children eats up that experience with a genuine joy. This isn’t a bitter medicine wrapped in sugar, but a medicine that itself tastes like sugar.
Rather than just suggesting for you to experience the game yourself, I would like to next present some quotations from the game’s dialogue, giving some examples of how the game presents these philosophical concepts:
[After an ending where Stanley is put in a death trap, and then the Narrator is interrupted by a second narrator]
In a single visceral instant, Stanley was obliterated, as the machine crushed every bone in his body, killing him instantly. And yet it would be just a few minutes before Stanley would restart the game, back in his office, as alive as ever. What exactly did the Narrator think he was going to accomplish? When every path you can walk has been created for you long in advance, death becomes meaningless, making life the same. Do you see now? Do you see that Stanley was already dead from the moment he hit start?
[Attempting to use a yellow-painted line to direct exactly where “the story” is meant to go]
Though, here’s a thought: wouldn’t wherever we end up be our destination, even if there’s no story there? Or, to put it another way, is the story of no destination still a story? Simply by the act of moving forward, are we implying a journey such that a destination is inevitably conjured into being?
[After discovering a room with a schedule written on a wall, detailing everything the player and Narrator has done so far, and predicting what they will do next]
You’re telling me...that’s what this is? It’s all one giant ending? And we’re supposed to restart the game...what...eight, eight times? That’s really how all this goes?! It’s all...determined? So now according to the schedule I restart again, then, what...am I just supposed to forget? Well, what if I don’t want to forget! My mind goes blank simply because it’s written here on this...this...thing!
And finally, I will link here a short video capture of one ending which also illustrates this same concept: Window “No” Ending.
What do you think? Do you have any experience with this game? And if so, do you believe it succeeds to introduce the layman to these broader philosophical concepts, on the nature of freewill and decisions? Do you find that any idea presented in The Stanley Parable particularly profound, or is its philosophy strictly surface level and basic?
It was also released before that as a Half-Life 2 mod in 2011.
I played the 2013 version; I didn’t find it to be that interesting in terms of conventional philosophical questions, but I did find it to be pretty hilarious and insightful when it came to poking fun at narrative and game-design conventions. Recommended.
Some people love this game. I found it very annoying. I found the narrator’s voice annoying, and given that 99% of the game is listening to it, I can hardly imagine how I could enjoy it. The pretentious wisdom of the narrator did not impress me. Some ideas in the game are interesting, but the implementation failed. It’s like inventing a simple joke, and then trying to rewrite it into a 100 pages long book, which supposedly makes it more funny. Sorry, for me it does not. But some people disagree, so I guess I’m not the target audience.
I put it in the same category as absurd humor. Some people seem to enjoy it, but I cannot imagine being one of them.
I have watched a video of one ending, and now I even don’t want to watch more videos of it.
I intellectually understand that (libertarian) free will is an illusion that emerges from the subjective experience of thinking about counterfactually having done something else at a specific moment, but I still often catch myself feeling bad about past mistakes, imagining how I could have done something else as if it had been an actual literal possibility at that time.
I’m sure it’s not uncommon at all, but I feel like it’s not the best way of framing those memories from the point of view of improving oneself.
It seems that imagining oneself as succeeding is often used as a ‘substitute’ for actually succeeding (even if it doesn’t feel nearly as good), which might not help to motivate oneself.