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The first video game I remember playing was The Legend of Zelda.
The game was already a few years old by the time I got to it, on the Nintendo Entertainment System (or NES). It’s a classic in the video game industry, and has inspired entire genres of games since it was released in the late 1980s.
I’m a proud, unashamed gamer. I’m currently replaying Fallout: New Vegas to get ready for the upcoming show (coming out on Amazon next week). Aside from RPGs like Fallout, I also love complex strategy and 4x simulation games—Crusader Kings 3 is my current go-to.
Regardless of the genre or platform, I owe a lot to this lifetime love for gaming.
Realistically, I’m far from a ‘tech person’ by most definitions. I studied political science and international relations, and still can’t code beyond simple HTML/CSS/JavaScript.
What I can do, though, is ‘speak’ tech—an above-average ability to evaluate and appreciate a product’s functionality and limitations within the scope of my needs. It’s a skill that’s been key to where I am now, working at the intersection between (immigration) legal workflows, legal technology, and users.
An Extra Dimension
This is where video games come into the picture.
Sure, I don’t have a STEM background, and my programming skills are more “Hello, Neighborhood”, less “Hello, World”. It turns out, though, you can learn quite a bit from years of dust-filled Nintendo 64 cartridges, corrupted save files, and the Xbox Red Ring of Death .
Maybe it’s the stubborn instinct to troubleshoot issues directly, or the urge to explore and test products thoroughly (I’m an RPG completionist, after all). Whatever it is, there’s an almost innate appreciation for ‘tech’ that comes with witnessing the evolution of video games.
With Zelda’s Ocarina of Time, released on the N64 a decade after the original, we saw the franchise jump from 2D to 3D graphics—expanding the Zelda narrative via an entirely new way of exploration. And the story continues to evolve and grow alongside its audience—Tears of the Kingdom, released on the Nintendo Switch in 2023, has already sold over 20 million copies.
While I haven’t kept up with recent entries in the franchise, I’m impressed by its lasting power, and its innovative approach to telling (and evolving) the story of Zelda, Link, and Hyrule across gaming platforms and experiences.
With the release of the PlayStation 2 (2000) and Xbox (2001), and a growing PC gaming community, we saw a shift in the video game landscape. This era saw the rise of MMORPGs—massively multiple online role-playing games—and other online games (think World of Warcraft or Counter-Strike) that introduced us to connective, internet-based gaming.
For the first time, platform gamers could interact with others across the globe, participating in massive online battles or joining forces in cooperative gameplay. This connectivity offered some basics in network security, and even a preview of the importance of understanding large-scale interactions in digital spaces.
Meanwhile, we also saw a profusion of new gaming genres throughout the 2000s. Online forums and other digital communities sprouted up to meet this new demand for genre-specific discussion and connection.
With new ways for players to interact with a narrative storyline, or build their own, we saw a rush of games that expanded our ideas of what is possible with gaming. Simulating real-world challenges, strategizing and managing resources efficiently, and making decisions with far-reaching consequences—gaming was suddenly more multifaceted than ever.
With more recent platforms from Playstation, Xbox, and Nintendo, we’ve seen another monumental leap. Games like Red Dead Redemption 2 have set new standards for immersion and interactivity.
When you look at current game engines, like Unreal Engine 5, it’s amazing to see the complexity and depth of the worlds you can create. The detail in which games accurately reflect real-world lighting and physics can even make for a jarring experience for the untrained eye.
It’s not just the graphics and world-building, though. Despite the current hype around LLMs and generative AI, the gaming community has been at the forefront of AI technology for awhile. Compare the NPCs (non-playable characters) in an RPG from today to one from the early 2000s, for example. I’m happy to report that the chances of your sidekick getting stuck in a ditch are much lower today!
Jokes aside, these advancements offer a window into the complexity and potential of modern technology. Understanding the intricate AI behaviors behind character development and world-building, for example. It's a testament to how far we've come from the simple 2D worlds of early gaming.
Reflecting on my own journey from The Legend of Zelda to the complex, interconnected worlds of modern gaming, it's clear that video games have been more than just a source of entertainment—for me, and many others I’m sure. They've been a classroom, a testing lab, and a playground for exploring the boundaries and applications of technology.
Working in legal services, and with my academic roots in ‘liberal arts’, video games have been a consistent lens for me to view and understand the tech landscape. While I’ve only recently come to appreciate this, it’s a useful reminder that our hobbies can be unexpected, yet effective tools for professional growth.
Whether it's music, baking, or archery, these interests and passions often give us invaluable insights, skills, and perspectives that we can apply to our work in unique ways. Like gaining enough XP to level up your character, if we’re still using the video game theme.