Bernard Suits, The Grasshopper: Games, Life
and Utopia, Broadview Press, Third Ed., 2014
read it at Google Books
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In the mid twentieth century the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein famously asserted that games are indefinable; there are no common threads that link them all. “Nonsense,” said the sensible Bernard Suits: “playing a game is a voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles.” The short book Suits wrote demonstrating precisely that is as playful as it is insightful, as stimulating as it is delightful. Through the jocular voice of Aesop's Grasshopper, a “shiftless but thoughtful practitioner of applied entomology,” Suits not only argues that games can be meaningfully defined; he also suggests that playing games is a central part of the ideal of human existence, and so games belong at the heart of any vision of Utopia.
This new edition of The Grasshopper includes illustrations from Frank Newfeld created for the book’s original publication, as well as an introduction by Thomas Hurka and a new appendix on the meaning of ‘play.’
“Like Erasmus’s Praise of Folly and Diderot’s Rameau’s Nephew, Suits’s The Grasshopper sparkles with wit and fun; and outranks those wonderful works in clear, firm philosophical conclusions. Defying certain discouragements, Suits constructs an illuminating definition of games, which he defends in lively dialogues, amusing parables, and cascades of subtle analytical distinctions. That is achievement enough to make a new classic in the history of philosophy. Suits offers more: an application of his definition in a discussion of how much we may have to rely on games―deliberately using relatively inefficient means to reach freely stipulated goals―if life is to continue to have meaning. We may be able to regain thereby the meaning lost as advances in technology enable us to escape one by one the tasks that necessity used to impose on humankind.” ― David Braybrooke
“The Grasshopper is an amazing book. Philosophically profound, yet genuinely funny. While primarily an articulation and defense of a highly plausible definition of games (and we all know what Wittgenstein said about that), it also manages to raise some of the deepest and most challenging questions about the meaning of life. All in the form of dialogues between an insect and his disciples! There is simply nothing else like it.” ― Shelly Kagan
“Philosophers are not generally known for fine writing, but once in a generation or two a book appears out of nowhere, unclassifiable, inspired, amazing, mesmerizing, wonderful, classic … ” ― Philosophy and Literature
AN entertaining read and lots of philosophical insights into the nature of GAMES. This I would take as an allegory to life, what is life but a play, a game and what are the goals and what are the rules and can we bend the rules to achieve our aims or goals. Does that still constitute a game? There are games to most things we do though the famous one is from Ludwig Wittgenstein and his views on the Language Game (Alice in wonderland is full of such games). The format of the book is engaging and delightful but beware that it will take a few readings to understand some of the concepts. It does not assume any background specialized philosophical knowledge to understand and enjoy this book however if you enjoy philosophy then it will enhance your experience of it. - Avinesh
This books is amazing in every way, the substance, the style. I have no idea why it's not widely regarded as a philosophical classic and read by all philosophy students. It's a dialogue between a grasshopper and his disciples about games, life and utopia--and especially the games part. As profound as it is funny, and a model of penetrating philosophical debate. - Tyron G
There are two main components to this book: (i) a definition of what constitutes a game; (ii) an argument that, since in Utopia, playing games is the only thing worth doing, that playing games is the supreme good. Suits spends some of the time building the framework needed for the definition of a game, but most of the time then arguing that the definition is correct, and about the overriding value of games.
A game is defined as "the voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles". There are no wasted words. A game must be /voluntary,/ not compulsory (so much for those compulsory “games” in school then); it is an /attempt/ to /overcome/, success is not required, trying is sufficient; there must be an /obstacle/, so it isn’t some trivial activity, but requires some effort; and that obstacle must be /unnecessary/, for it it were necessary, overcoming it would be a job, or for survival, or some other reason.
This definition seems very reasonable, and gets around Wittgenstein’s claim that there is no sufficient and necessary conditions for something to be a game, by moving up a level of abstraction. Suits spends time picking apart his definition, and showing how various activities do, and do not, fit, and that those activities are, and are not, games, respectively.
So far, so good. Suits’ second argument is about the role of games in Utopia. In Suits’ Utopia there is no need to work; there is abundance of goods, companionship, and sexual partners for all; there is no physical or mental illness. That is, there is no need for involuntary activity, and there are no necessary obstacles to overcome. So the only worthwhile thing left to do in Utopia is play games.
I’m not convinced there is nothing to do in this Utopia other than play games. What about learning to play a musical instrument? That doesn’t seem to be a game: it is (in Utopia, at least) voluntary, but where is the unnecessary obstacle? One might argue that one could get a machine to play the music: is requiring the music be produced by oneself an unnecessary requirement? Listening and performing is qualitatively different, however.
But there is a deeper problem: I am not convinced that this Utopia can exist. Even if we assume perfect mental health, so no-one coerces anyone to do anything against their will (everything is voluntary), this does not imply there will be someone else to engage in any particular activity with you. Human partners in play are not “objects” in anything like the same sense that yachts and diamonds are objects. They are people, with their own desires, which, even with their posited perfect mental health, need not overlap with yours. One cannot require that Utopia be populated with other players for one’s own benefit. Robot players may not be sufficient: playing against another person may be an /unnecessary/ obstacle, but if that’s part of the game…
I found this a fascinating and thought-provoking book. The definition of a game is excellent: compact enough to be memorable; simple enough to be applicable; abstract enough to show the virtue of abstraction. The consequences of the definition are not so apparent to me, but it is an interesting journey to follow the argument: in my Utopia, reading such books would be more worthwhile that playing games. - Susan Stepney
“The Grasshopper” is unique philosophy monograph. It is part narrative, part dialogue, part treatise. It is also humorous and easy to read. It, quite self-consciously, plays off elements from Socratic dialogues, the New Testament, and Aesop’s fables. Though I don’t agree with many of its philosophic conclusions, the work, overall, is successful at pulling all these elements off. That is, I enjoyed reading it and found it enlightening.
The main focus of the book is an extended discussion of the definition of the concept of “Game.” While in some ways, it is a meant as an answer to Wittgenstein’s famous claim that one can’t define “game,” it is more philosophically rich than that. Suits’ discussion is really more an analysis of the meaning of life. The Grasshopper’s main philosophical claim seems to be that in Utopia, all meaning in life would come from some kind of game-playing. By Utopia, he means a state of life where all activity is purely and totally voluntary and no instrumental activity is necessary. Suits argues that the only activities in such a utopia would games (or other forms of play).
I think Suits is wrong here, for several reasons. Without going into detail (I hope to write a long blog fleshing this out), his use of Utopia is irrelevant. The life he imagines here is impossible, and even if it were, such beings living that life would be nothing at all like human beings. So, whatever we might learn about such a utopian life is meaningless for the life human beings live. His accounting of play as “all of those activities which are intrinsically valuable to those who engage in them” is far too broad (This sweeps in things like one’s career) (146). His distinction between instrumentally and intrinsically valuable activities is too constrained and too sharp (it leaves no room for mixed activities or constitutively valuable activities). So while I agree that game-playing and more generally play itself are important, even central, aspects of human life, I disagree that is the only intrinsically valuable (whatever that means) human activity.
My main quibble (and it might be more than a quibble) with Suits’ definition of games is the idea that “the rules prohibit use of more efficient in favor of less efficient means” (54). It is a quibble if by less efficient he really means obstacle-making. I do think all games involve rules that place certain kinds of obstacles for the players to overcome, surmount, or play around. These obstacles often mean that only less efficient means for achieving the goals/ends of the games are available. So my concern is that the focus on efficiencies is non-essential. The essence is obstacle-making, not efficiency reduction–even if these end up being co-extensive. I am not sure they are co-extensive; hence, my concern that this is more than a mere quibble. - Shawn E. Klein
https://sportsethicist.com/2014/05/08/the-grasshopper-by-bernard-suits/
The Grasshopper is philosopher Bernard Suits' effort to define the concept of “game” and explore how an understanding of games can inform the kind of lives we'd like to live. This is not a minor undertaking, Wittgenstein suggested that defining games was impossible, that a “family resemblance” to other games is the best you can do. However, a lot of things look impossible until someone does it, and Suits makes a credible effort to do so. Some commentators suggest that all efforts to define “games” are a gate-keeping effort to exclude unwanted voices, but I don't detect any malice or social maneuvering in Suits' book. Furthermore, it's common in fields from art to physics to probe definitions to seek better understanding, and this sort of investigation can lead to new and exciting innovations in those fields. While I feel that Suits' definition ultimately comes up short I feel it's a well-written book that does bring forward some interesting and useful ideas.
The main character of the book is The Grasshopper, the same one from the Aesop's Fables story with the ant. In a recontextualization of that story, the Grasshopper doesn't play all the time because he's lazy or doesn't know the value of food or the danger of winter, it's because he has a total commitment to a certain philosophy of life that demands play and not work. Most of the ideas in the book are conveyed via devotees of the Grasshopper who are trying to puzzle out the ideas and implications of his philosophy. Suits casts him as a Utopian idealist living before the establishment of Utopia.
The writing
The book itself is written with a certain playfulness. Rather than a dry explication of the philosophical arguments, the book uses characters and dialog to develop the points. On the flip side, the characters are basically philosophers pondering each others' ideas, so how much difference is there? But I think these weird Moebius twists in the structure are part of the point. I can't say with certainty whether or why this was a good way to express these ideas, but it seemed satisfying to me. I don't think it could carry the book for someone who wasn't interested in the philosophy of games, but I think it did help make it a bit more enjoyable to read.
Suits' definition of games
The core idea of the book is the definition itself (Suits uses the Latin-derived word “lusory” to specify that these terms are related to games):
To play a game is to attempt to achieve a specific state of affairs [prelusory goal], using only means permitted by rules [lusory means], where the rules prohibit use of more efficient in favour of less efficient means [constitutive rules], and where the rules are accepted just because they make possible such activity [lusory attitude]. I also offer the following simpler and, so to speak, more portable version of the above: playing a game is the voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles.
To apply that to an example: A foot race is a game because you're trying to cross the finish line (goal) by running (the means permitted by the rules) even though there would be faster ways to do so (cars or other conveyances are forbidden), and you choose to follow those rules because you want to participate in the race (and if you weren't following the rules of racing you wouldn't be racing, you'd be doing something else).
My thoughts on the definition
It certainly seems like a solid candidate for a sound definition of “game”, and the “voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles” bit is quite a pithy formulation. However, I'm not sure I completely buy it for a few reasons. One, the concept of the “goal” is not entirely obvious. Suits himself has a character offer the counterexample of children's make-believe games like Cops and Robbers or Cowboys and Indians. The Grasshopper resolves this by the introduction of the concept of the “open game”:
I would define an open game generically as a system of reciprocally enabling moves whose purpose is the continued operation of the system. Then, as you suggest, various species can be found within this larger class. Open athletic games, perhaps, would make up one such species, since all of the moves in such games would be bodily maneuvres. Games of make-believe, then, would make up another species, for in them all of the moves would be dramatic performances.
Since one of my areas of interest is Roleplaying Games I do find it a bit gratifying that Suits acknowledges this as a valid type of game (it's not uncommon for people to say that Dungeons & Dragons is a more sophisticated Cops and Robbers), but perpetual play isn't always the goal of these types of games (although when it was released some internet commentators tried to argue that @paulczege's game My Life with Master wasn't really an RPG because it has an explicit endgame mechanic). My feeling is that in order to be a useful and functional definition the parts need to be usable by the average user. I think a clever arguer like Suits or his alter-ego The Grasshopper will be able to come up with some story about what the “real goal” of any activity that they know is a game, but it's not clear to me that that's a reliable enough process to think that it's actually doing work in categorizing things as games or not-games. If you're allowed to cleverly formulate non-obvious goals, how can you ever be sure that an activity doesn't have one and you just haven't articulated it?
Grasshopper: But surely all activities are goal-directed, or at least all intelligent activities (if that is not, in fact, a redundant expression) are. I take it that participation in such pastimes qualifies as intelligent activity?
Skepticus: It does.
Grasshopper: Then surely such activity must have some goal or purpose. Otherwise it would be just a series of random movements.
Skepticus: I agree, Grasshopper, that such pastimes have some point to them, that is, some goal.
It seems to me that the Grasshopper handwaved past that too quickly, or perhaps his interlocutor Skepticus was insufficiently skeptical and could have probed a little deeper. I think that a flat assertion that all activities “must have some goal or purpose” provides a strong incentive for “just so” stories. Suits says that people adopt roles to attain goals, but I wonder if that might be backwards: maybe goal-attainer is merely one of many possible roles that can constitute playing a game.
The other element of Suits' definition that I'm not completely sold on is his point about efficiency.
I define efficiency as the least expenditure of a limited resource necessary to achieve a given goal. I specify limited resource because if some resource is unlimited there is no reason to say that using more of it is less efficient than using less of it would be, ceteris paribus, regardless of the purpose or purposes for which it is used. …
… Contestants in a foot race, for example, run fast either because they are competing against a record which limits the amount of time at their disposal (they do not have five minutes in which to run a four-minute mile) or against another runner whose pace limits the amount of time at their disposal. Their goal, that is, requires that they use as little time as possible. Since that is so; it can be said that running is a less efficient means for completing the course than, for example, riding a bicycle or driving a Ferrari.
Do grasshoppers knit their own sweaters?
Knitting is something that many people engage in as a hobby activity. Is it a game? It seems like something that has an end goal (a sweater, a scarf, etc.), has rules about how to do it (you use knitting needles and yarn) and rules out some ways that might be more efficient, like buying a sweater from a store or using a knitting machine. But are those methods more efficient? Maybe the goal isn't just to have a sweater, but to have a hand-knit sweater, which would rule out machine knitting. Is buying one from an etsy store more efficient? Does it matter if the Grasshopper is rich or poor, or a fast or slow knitter? Should whether or not knitting is a game be contingent on questions like that? (Also a side note: as someone who plays a lot of games and has also tried my hand at knitting, I'd say that knitting is not a game – it can be enjoyable and pleasant, but if anything it's more meditative than gamelike).
My concern here is that the technical-sounding “efficiency” may be providing an illusion of precision rather than the real thing and tends to break down when you try to actually apply it. Consider these two thought experiment scenarios:
Anthony and Gareth develop a goal to get to a certain finish point in the shortest possible time. Anthony, being serious and efficient, thinks the most obvious and efficient way to do so would be to use the fastest vehicle available. Gareth, being more playful, wants to make a game of it: they should restrict themselves to the less efficient method of human locomotion.
Cavemen Arrog and Gress develop a goal to get to a certain finish point in the shortest possible time. Arrog, being serious and efficient, thinks the most obvious and efficient way to do so would be to run. Gress, being more playful, wants to make a game of it: they should restrict themselves by adding a requirement to invent some sort of vehicle that they can use to convey themselves.
It seems odd to me that efficiency could be so context-dependent as to give 180 degree opposite conclusions about whether running is efficient. When I suggested this thought experiment on social media one person suggested that the cavemen could still be racing because running is less efficient than simply murdering the other participant and strolling to the finish line. But how can we know? What if the attempted murder isn't simple but turns into a prolonged fight? What resources should be be measuring to determine which is more efficient, running or murdering? Again, I suspect this element of the definition invites handwaving and just-so stories about things that are determined to be games or not-games by other means rather than doing a lot of actual work in defining things.
Lusory Attitude
Despite those issues, I think there is one aspect of the book that is excellent and praiseworthy, which is Suits' idea of the Lusory Attitude:
Lusory attitude The attitude of the game player must be an element in game playing because there has to be an explanation of that curious state of affairs wherein one adopts rules which require one to employ worse rather than better means for reaching an end.
Basically, Suits is saying that the mental state of the player(s) are an essential component of making something a game. He illustrates it with a rather fanciful thought experiment:
Smith arrives at the starting line of the 200 metre finals just as the race is about to begin. He has only that moment learned that a time bomb has been planted in the grandstand at the finish line (which is located on the other side of the oval track at a point directly opposite the starting line), and that it will go off in a matter of seconds. The information has so shocked Smith that he is temporarily bereft of speech and so cannot warn anyone of the impending catastrophe. His first impulse is to run straight across the infield and defuse the bomb, but he sees with dismay that the infield has been fenced off with a high chain-link barrier, evidently to protect spectators and participants from the fifty or so man-eating tigers that roam hungrily inside the enclosure. At the instant Smith realizes that his only hope of getting to the bomb in time is to make a half circuit of the track, the starting gun is fired, and Smith and the other entrants are off and running hard.
Now, I put it to you, Skepticus, that the other runners are playing a game but that Smith is not, and that this is so because the other runners have lusory attitude and Smith does not. Let me explain. Two rules relevant to lusory attitude are at issue in this episode: the rule which requires entrants to begin running at the same time from the same point, and the rule which requires that they do not cut across any part of the infield. Now, through a series of uncanny coincidences, Smith finds himself observing both of these rules. But his reason for doing so is quite different from the reason that the other contestants have for observing the rules. If Smith had arrived at the starting line earlier he would have begun running earlier, and if the infield had not been barred by a tiger-filled enclosure he would have cut straight across the infield. But the other runners, who could have started running before the starting gun was fired, did not do so, and if the infield had been neither fenced nor tiger-infested, they still would have remained on the track. That is, they accepted the rules just because they wanted to participate in a competitive game. But Smith acted within the constraints because that was the only way he could get speedily to the bomb. Clearly his attitude towards the rules was not that they made possible a foot race, for if he had found his voice or if the infield had been safe and clear, he would not have been running around the track at all.
This might seem purely academic, but consider that some game designers need to deal with situations in which there are people engaging with their game that's externally indistinguishable from playing but actually isn't. For example, “griefers” are people who participate in games not for the purpose of enjoying the game the way the game is intended but merely for the perverse joy of causing distress in others. They may genuinely find this to be fun, but if they're playing a game they're playing a different game. This doesn't mean they should be ignored (since they tend to ruin other people's fun it's probably not wise to ignore them), but it does mean you can ignore this approach to the game when looking at it from a game-design or analytical perspective. Having the right ideas operating in your head is a component (perhaps the most important component) of playing a game, and if you don't you're not playing that game, or at least not playing in good faith.
Indeed, it's worth pondering whether the Lusory Attitude alone is sufficient to do a lot of work. It reminds me of Bogost's position in Play Anything where he suggests that merely manipulating systems for their own sake is what produces the sensation of “fun”.
Overall conclusion
Despite not being completely convinced by Suits' argument I found this to be a valuable and thought-provoking book. The concept of Lusory Attitude is a useful and important one, and I find his thought experiments around it to be very useful. I think it's an important work for people like myself who are interesting in the philosophy of games. I found it much more enjoyable to read than the average academic paper, although the casual reader would likely find it too dense and steeped in “philosophy talk” to be enjoyable if they're not already interested in the topic. - Dan Maruschak
Just as an enthusiastic reader can make their way through a lifetime of books without ever once consulting a single text on literary theory, most sports enthusiasts will cheer their way through a lifetime of games and races without ever knowing that there is such a genre of study called Philosophy of Sport. Of course, you don’t need even a passing acquaintance with Philosophy of Sport in order to feel the intoxicating adrenaline of watching or playing in a great game. But when Philosophy of Sport is useful—and it is useful in the same way that literary theory is useful—is when you want a very thorough answer to the question: “What, exactly, is going on here?”
What is the nature of the collaborative relationship between opponents (read: between writer and reader), and how does that make games (narratives) possible? Why are we so universally compelled to participate in sports (literary works), as non-essential as they are to human survival?
The Grasshopper is a book-length Philosophy of Sport allegory, published in the seventies by Canadian professor of philosophy Bernard Suits. The most obvious reason that The Grasshopper remains in print is Suits’ decision to transform what could have been dry treatise into a self-conscious, fourth-wall-busting, alternate-dimension Aesop’s Fable.
In it we meet The Grasshopper, “a working Utopian whose time has not yet come,” a skeleton of a character borrowed from Aesop himself. For the majority of Suits’ book, Grasshopper engages in vigorous conversation with one of his disciples, cheekily named Skepticus, as they attempt to arrive at a precise definition of what a game is.
At the risk of mangling Suits’ definition by truncating it: Grasshopper and Skepticus conclude that a game is a voluntarily inefficient means of arriving at a self-contained end. To use the game of basketball as an example: the goal of basketball is to put a basketball through your team’s orange metal circle. But by itself putting a basketball through an orange metal circle has no constructive purpose in our broader lives; in this way the goal of the game of basketball, as with the goals of all games, is totally arbitrary.
As humans we have many efficient means of putting a basketball through an orange metal circle. The team could position a ladder right next to the basket and send one player to the top of the ladder to drop the ball through the hoop ad infinitum, while the other members of the team block the opponent from reaching the ladder. Suits would contend (and most would probably agree) that this ladder-using team is, despite their proficiency at putting the ball through the orange metal circle, not actually playing the game of basketball.
To play the game of basketball, a team and its players must all agree to predetermined, inefficient means of getting the ball through the hoop: players agree to dribble the ball whenever they possess it, they agree to allow the other team to shoot free throws when a referee calls a foul, they agree to bring no ladders onto the court, et cetera. It is these inefficient ways of putting the ball through the metal circle, Suits contends, that actually makes a basketball game.
The construction of this definition is established so that Suits, speaking as The Grasshopper, may entirely flabbergast both Skepticus and his reading audience with a concluding vision of Utopia. (So, spoiler alert from here on out, I suppose.) The Grasshopper posits that, in a truly Utopian society, a version of the world where every material need is easily and instantly met—by an army of docile robots, the Grasshopper suggests—all that humans would do is play games.
In The Grasshopper’s Utopia, one hundred percent of the human population does not flock to basketball arenas or baseball stadiums (although of course plenty would). The Grasshopper proposes that, in Utopia, even activities like carpentry would in fact become games. Suits’ example: if a person who loves carpentry wanted to build a house in a society where a house could be instantly built, they would probably still build a house with their hands, so great is their love of carpentry.
But this action would suddenly fall under Suits’ definition of games. In Utopia everybody already has a house—building another one serves as productive a purpose as putting a basketball through an orange metal circle. And, what’s more, the enthusiastic carpenter would be voluntarily choosing an inefficient way to arrive at that final destination. The docile robots could immediately build a house, but the carpenter is insisting, by personally hammering every last nail, on performing the equivalent of dribbling down the basketball court.
Even the arts, Suits-as-Grasshopper contends, would no longer be necessary in Utopia:
Art has a subject matter which consists in the actions and passions of men: with human aspirations and frustrations, hopes and fears, triumphs and tragedies, with flaws of character, moral dilemmas, joy and sorrow. But it would seem that none of these necessary ingredients of art could exist in Utopia.
Perhaps you don’t buy this Utopic argument. That’s okay; at this rate, we won’t be able to test out Suits’ theory in this world anytime soon, anyway. But do consider: maybe that joy we feel in the middle of a good game—or in the middle of a good book—is a shadow of the fulfilling, non-striving directionlessness that being in a real Utopia would bring. - Miles Wray
https://blog.pshares.org/sports-in-utopia-on-the-grasshopper-by-bernard-suits/
Filip Kobiela: The Ludic Background of Constitutive Rules in Bernard Suits [Special Issue]
The main purpose of the paper is to present and discuss Bernard Suits’ account of constitutive rules presented in his opus magnum—The Grasshopper. Games, Life and Utopia—and in several minor contributions, which supplement or modify his original position. This account will be regarded as a crucial part of Suits’ theory of ludic activities, mainly game-playing. The stress will be put on peculiarities of constitutive rules—their relation to ends in games, players’ attitudes and their limitative nature. The analysis of the consequences of breaking a rule in different types of actions shows the essential difference between constitutive rules in games, and rules governing both technical activities, and non-game types of ludic activities. Because Suits’ theory has been presented as an attack on Wittgenstein’s claim concerning indefinability of games, this issue will be discussed as well.
Bernard Suits is known mainly for his contribution to philosophical game theory. His legacy in this field consists of the seminal book The Grasshopper. Game, Life and Utopia (Suits 2014a) and several articles, being, among others, responses to criticisms, explanations and continuations of the ‘grasshopperian’ investigations. The meaning of this legacy has been recognized in the circles of philosophers of sport. Outside this community, however, it is still awaiting wider recognition.
download (pdf)
Reconsidering The Grasshopper: On the Reception of Bernard Suits in Game Studies by Liam Mitchell
Abstract: Bernard Suits can be counted alongside the likes of Johan Huizinga and Roger Caillois as one of the progenitors of game studies. His landmark book, The Grasshopper: Games, Life and Utopia, is rigorous but playful, offering a series of definitions, parables and puzzles on its way to a quixotic conclusion concerning the relationship of play to the good life. While it is cited in early works important to the field, it is less frequently cited than one might expect; moreover, these citations are rarely substantive, often remaining restricted to his definition of gameplay as "the voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles." This paper responds to this general disregard by highlighting the productive ambiguities of the text, particularly with regard to the relationship between games and society. As a transparently, reflectively Socratic dialogue, The Grasshopper works not only by mounting a discourse in which interlocutors arrive at a series of rigorous definitions, but by inviting the reader to read between the lines. The Grasshopper is rewarding not because it establishes apparently universal truths, but because it situates these truths in social context. The text is therefore useful for anyone concerned with the social or political dimensions of games. To demonstrate this utility, this paper responds to two recent works in game studies that take Suits more seriously than most (Tulloch, 2014; Boluk and Lemieux, 2017), conducts a close reading of the generally neglected sixth chapter of the book, and offers some concluding observations on the political relationship between games and society. In doing so, it aims to pull the attention of game studies scholars away from the far too portable definition of gameplay and deeper into a complex and socially relevant book.
Read more here: http://gamestudies.org/2003/articles/mitchell_liam
Christopher C. Yorke: Bernard Suits' Utopia of Gameplay: A Critical Analysis (2019). PhD thesis The Open University.
DOI: https://doi.org/10.21954/ou.ro.0000e617
Abstract: In this dissertation, I integrate the published and newly available unpublished works of Bernard Suits to arrive at an original, holistic interpretation of his corpus. I identify, analyze, and resolve inconsistencies in his position which have not been previously critiqued in depth. Centrally, I provide a critical analysis of Suits’ relatively obscure utopian thesis: his argument that the ‘ideal of existence’ for humankind is a utopia of gameplay.
More specifically, I demonstrate that Suits’ utopian thesis fails on its own grounds because his utopian vision—the thought experiment upon which his utopian thesis rests for its plausibility—requires that humanity enter a post-instrumental phase of culture unimaginable from our current species-perspective. The nature of utopian gameplay is obscured behind this cultural gap, and thus we pre-utopians have no rational reason to accept Suits’ assertion that it instantiates the ideal of existence. Finally, I sympathetically rehabilitate Suits’ utopian thesis along perfectionist lines as the utopian game design thesis, and show that its main value lies in its role as a regulative ideal, offering a unique set of normative recommendations for our current gaming practices.
THE GRASSHOPPER – GAME STUDIES CLASSIC SUMMARIZED, RECONTEXTUALIZED
The Grasshopper’s Error: Or, On How Life is a Game by AVERY KOLERS
ABSTRACT: I here defend the thesis that the best life is the life that one plays as a game – specifically, a ‘Suitsian’ game that meets the definition proposed in The Grasshopperby Bernard Suits. Even more specifically, it is a nested, open, role-playing game where the life’s quality as a game partly depends on there being no more people than players.To defend this thesis I refute two powerful challenges to it, one from Thomas Hurka (2006)and another from within The Grasshopper itself. In the process I offer a new interpretationof that enigmatic and challenging book.
https://www.academia.edu/401242/The_Grasshoppers_Error_or_On_How_Life_is_a_Game
Bernard Suits, Return of the Grasshopper:
Games, Leisure and the Good Life in the Third
Millennium, Routledge, 2022
In this sequel to Bernard Suits’ timeless classic philosophical work The Grasshopper: Games, Life and Utopia, published in its full and unabridged form for the first time, Suits continues to explore some of our most fundamental philosophical questions, including the value of sport and games, and their relationship to the good life.
In Return of the Grasshopper, Suits puts his theoretical cards on the table, exploring the in-depth implications of his definition of utopia, assessing the merits of a gamified philosophy, and explaining how games can provide an existential balm against the fear of death. Perhaps most importantly, for the first time in print, Suits reveals his underlying worldview: that humanity is forever fated to endure a cyclical existence of privation, brought on by material scarcity, and boredom, resulting from material plenitude. An essential companion to The Grasshopper, this edition includes an introductory chapter that puts Suits’ life and work into context, helping the reader to understand why Suits has had such a profound influence on contemporary philosophy and how his ideas still provide powerful insight into the human condition.
This book is important reading for anybody with an interest in the philosophy of sport, leisure and play, political philosophy, ethics, existentialism or utopian studies.
'Return of the Grasshopper is a long-awaited and much anticipated addition to our literature. It bears testimony to Suits’ remarkably fertile mind and his twin philosophic gifts for making bold assertions and raising puzzling questions. In this rich collection, Suits does both in a most provocative way.' - Scott Kretchmar
'This is the book that followers of the Grasshopper need! Return of the Grasshopper expands on Suits’ thoughts on utopia, death, and the good life in fascinating and tantalizing ways. Additionally, López Frías and Yorke’s introduction offers a clear and engaging background to Suits’ life and works.' - Christopher Bartel
'A must-read for Suits scholars and anyone who was captivated by his whimsical presentation of ideas about games, language, and utopia in The Grasshopper. Suits’ sequel shows, once again, that analytic philosophy can address important questions--and be a lot of fun.' - J.S. Russell
'No philosopher combines whimsy and profundity as successfully as Suits. This volume is a true gift.' - Gwen Bradford
Suits ended The Grasshopper with a doubt about his main normative thesis; he worried that if people in his utopia knew they were only playing games, they’d find their lives not worth living. This abridgement of a previously unpublished sequel withdraws the doubt and gives a more robust defence of the value of playing games. The contrary view says a valuable activity must have an independently valuable goal, as game-playing doesn’t—you need to be curing real diseases or discovering otherwise unknown truths. Suits now replies that to want there to be real disease or ignorance in the world is to want there to be real obstacles, so the activity of overcoming them can be possible. But that’s precisely to have the lusory attitude to the obstacles and so to be playing a game whether or not you realize you’re doing so.
Table of Contents
Introduction
Bernard Suits’ Return of the Grasshopper: A Philosophical Context and Novel Directions for Future Research
Francisco Javier López Frías and Christopher C. Yorke
1 Return of the Grasshopper
Bernard Suits
2 Utopia Lost or Mislaid
Bernard Suits
3 Three Ways to Play a Game Without Knowing It
Bernard Suits
4 Three More Ways to Play a Game Without Knowing It
Bernard Suits
5 Life’s a Game and All the Men and Women Merely Players
Bernard Suits
6 At Death’s Door
Bernard Suits
7 The Smoking Gun
Bernard Suits
8 Utopia Found
Bernard Suits
9 Utopian Doctors and Lawyers
Bernard Suits
10 Lusory Luddites
Bernard Suits
11 The Scarcity Machine
Bernard Suits
12 The End of the Future
Bernard Suits
13 Aesop Revisited
Bernard Suits
Appendix 1: An Introduction to Grasshopper Soup
Bernard Suits
Appendix 2: Deconstructionist Digression
Bernard Suits
Appendix 3: A Perfectly Played Game
Bernard Suits
THE GRASSHOPPER – GAME STUDIES CLASSIC SUMMARIZED, RECONTEXTUALIZED
Professor Bernard Suits, of the University of Waterloo, is one of the only philosophers of games and gaming. In his book The Grasshopper: Games, Life and Utopia he masterfully took up Wittgenstein's challenge to supply necessary and sufficient conditions for what it means to be a game. That book presents an argument that game playing is the supreme human good --- one that will invite you to think more deeply about games and what it means to live a good life, even if the argument doesn't convince you.
Bernard Suits termed the term lusory attitude in the book The Grasshopper: Games, Life and Utopia, first published in 1978, in which Suits defines the playing of a game as "the voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles". He also offers a fuller definition:
To play a game is to attempt to achieve a specific state of affairs [prelusory goal], using only means permitted by rules [lusory means], where the rules prohibit use of more efficient in favour of less efficient means [constitutive rules], and where the rules are accepted just because they make possible such activity [lusory attitude].
