My Minesweeper Addiction

     There seem to be about 300 better games to be addicted to, not sure why I chose “Minesweeper.”

     Well, “choose” isn’t the right word. You don’t choose to become addicted to a game, you just are.

     But there doesn’t seem to be much fun in staring at randomly placed numbers, finding “mines” based on the numbers and clearing any safe squares, all as quickly as possible.

     It’s tedious, it’s repetitive, it’s anxiety-inducing. And people appear to agree. 

     “It’s only addictive because you have nothing else to do,” someone said on an online forum.

     But for me, that’s not the case. First, I often do have something else to do. I play “Minesweeper” on my phone instead of paying attention in class. Second, again, there are many other games that you would think provide much more entertainment, but I always find myself quickly getting bored and coming back to “Minesweeper.”

     It seems that entertainment is not the point. Playing “Minesweeper” is probably better characterized as a chain of compulsive needs to just clear out the next empty square, then the next, then the next… Yet because of this, it doesn’t get boring as it doesn’t let you be bored: it leaves no space for judgment of boredom—or judgment of fun, either.

     “Minesweeper” provides an escape from reality, from thought, from the internal dialogue. It gives you something for the brain to divert all attention to, to latch onto, to find numbness in amidst a chaotic world.

     Isn’t that the point of games? To distract you, to give you a break from life. “Minesweeper” is the perfect embodiment.

     Yet it is unique in that there is no winning or losing (except the times when you complete the board or hit a mine, in which case you just restart as if nothing happened), no desire or deprivation, no achievement or goals. After some time, it’s autopilot, it’s purely a concentration game. That sets “Minesweeper” apart.

     And so it’s addicting precisely because you don’t engage with the concept of and concern for fun—or anything else, for that matter—and because it pauses the humanity in you. When games typically attempt to present you with a thing to enjoy, to be stimulated by (which are not bad things), “Minesweeper” gives you a break from being a human 24/7; a removal from the uniquely human experiences that “enjoyment” and “pleasure” constitute; a rejection of conscious imagination and imagery, instead of a creation: try being a box-clicking robot for five minutes instead!

     Of course, most people probably do play games for enjoyment and fun. That might not be the strong suit of “Minesweeper,” but sometimes, when we want to sacrifice our sanity and a few minutes of time, it might be precisely what we need.

Image by Andrew Xu/The ECHO

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