Utilizing Howard Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences to understand videogaming

If you're not aware of what Howard Gardner's theory of multiple intelligences is (and it is very much a theory; while it's not rooted in science so much, it does make sense from a common sense standpoint), here's the jist. Basically, all people in the world have intelligence in a certain way. Some are able to express themselves linguistically, while others do so through movement. It's perhaps a little wishy-washy, but as a high school teacher, I'm pretty intimately familiar with the concept. Indeed, Saskatchewan's Ministry of Education recommends that all teachers administer a multiple intelligences test to better meet the needs of their students.

I'm not using Gardner's theory as a means of exploring videogaming because I necessarily think it's a great theory; I'm using because in the context of what videogaming asks a player to do, it makes complete sense. To better understand what I'm about to delve into, take a look at this online test and keep your results in the back of your mind.

Multiple Intelligences Test Online.

Here's my results. I'll use them throughout this article to try to explain some things:

Apparently, I'm most intelligent musically. That makes sense to me – I play in a number of bands and am proficient with a number of instruments. Of more interest to me here is the fact that my second and third place intelligences were in the linguistics and intrapersonal areas. Writing and playing videogames are, for the most part, solitary activities. There's not much of a critical discussion going on about primarily multiplayer games, because games that focus on multiplayer by their very nature put narrative in the back seat.

Here's something I suspect – people who are interested in dissecting and analyzing games probably have a great deal of linguistics capability. They, like myself, probably see videogames as simply another artistic medium available for a textual analysis. I'd guess that people who play and are really good at playing videogames fall more into the logical category. There are few games (especially ones that are fairly non-linear) that I haven't had to consult an FAQ for, as I'm fully aware that my logical skills, especially in terms of videogame problem solving, aren't all that up to snuff.

I don't want to make broad generalizations about avid gamers, but I'm guessing that the majority of them would fall into the Logical/Intrapersonal category. Now, consider the characters that gamers play as. I'm guessing that they would fall into almost the complete opposite category – Kinesthetic/Interpersonal. Nathan Drake from Uncharted, for instance, is a muscular badass who can perform all sorts of crazy acrobatics when the time comes, but is also charming as all hell. You could say the same about Ezio from Assassin's Creed 2 (although I'd be loathe to call him charming, he does bed a few ladies, I suppose).

It's obvious, and has been obvious for years, that videogames are wish fulfillment. You get to do things you'd never be able to do in real life, all without exerting much energy (or more energy than it takes to flick some analog sticks and eat orange-dust encrusted snack foods). What I think that Gardner's theory proves is that perhaps it's more than wish fulfillment – perhaps it's psychological compensation.

Maybe this is simply a way for people to feel a sort of completeness in their lives, to experience the things that their differing abilities won't allow them to do. And maybe that's why certain Wii games, especially ones that require a great deal of physical dexterity and specifically don't play into the wish fulfillment area, turn this notion on its head and confounds the more traditional gamer. I'm thinking of a game like Tiger Woods 10 with MotionPlus, where you're almost guaranteed to be as good in the game as you are in real life. As someone who's not particularly kinesthetic, that can be a little frustrating (and as someone who tries to be good at golf but never has been, it's downright masochistic).

For the non-traditional gamer, psychological compensation maybe is coming from elsewhere, or they don't turn to games to offer themselves this option. MMOs and highly customizable RPGs are a good way to go for people who aren't traditionally represented in gaming, too – you can feel as though your avatar really is an extension of your own psyche. Playing games in this fashion can lead to obsession or a complete change in real-life identity (something I perhaps flirted with in my twelve to fourteen-year-old range), and it's something that I've grown out of. I prefer to examine games from a bit of a distance now, much like I do movies or books. I haven't been able to "escape" into a game in quite some time.

Should games be designed primarily as a wish fulfillment vehicle? I'd have to say no – I think there's a great opportunity to lead gamers through experiences that specifically don't play into their desires. Suda51 is probably better at this than anyone in gaming today – Killer7, which I plan on writing about at length very soon, spurns convention and expectations, and comes out all the more compelling because of it. Gaming then becomes an opportunity to expand consciousness, which may be painful but is always exhilarating. That doesn't mean that I don't understand the feelings that people have about wanting to be able to do what they can't in real life. We want every one of Mario's jumps to be perfect and athletically graceful because that's what we want for ourselves.

But what if Mario couldn't make every jump because, hey, maybe he's tired? Would the game be a failure? Maybe not on an artistic level, but almost definitely on a psychological one. We'd be hard on Mario because he's not living up to his promise of being what we're not.