A 36-24-36 Cerebrum: Gendering Video Game Play through Advertising

A 36-24-36 Cerebrum: Gendering Video Game Play through Advertising Sample of research for: Shira Chess 17 State Street Apt. 6B Troy, NY 12180 (518) 859-9637 chesss@rpi.edu http://www.shiraland.com Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” A 36-24-36 Cerebrum: Gendering Video Game Play through Advertising By Shira Chess Introduction Until only recently, video games were often understood to be created by and for 2 masculine audiences (Fron et al, 2007; Ray, 2004; Cassell & Jenkins, 1999). Now, in the past few years, an influx of video games (such as Wii Fit, Brain Age, and Diner Dash) has been increasingly marketed to a demographic previously ignored by the gaming industry: adult females. As such, there are now more video games created specifically for (and marketed to) women. At the same time though, one does not have to look far to see a division and gendered hierarchy between traditional (masculine) gamers and newer (feminine) gamers. Advertising is one way where this divisiveness becomes particularly visible. At its core, play is marketed differently to men than it is to women, and underlying these marketing differences are deeper issues of gender and play. In what follows, I will be discussing video game advertising in magazines, showing how video game audiences are becoming simultaneously both broader and narrower: video game appeals might be made to larger audiences—now often including more women. But at the same time, these appeals often narrow the kinds of play that women are authorized to engage in. In order to illustrate this, I use content and semiotic analysis of advertising in two traditional video game magazines, showing how femininity is often excluded or marginalized from traditional gaming. Subsequently, I similarly analyze advertising in some non-video game magazines—mostly aimed at adult female audiences, showing specific ways that video games and play have been pitched to women in recent years. Gender, Video Games, and Leisure Much of the previous research on video games and gender has been limited to the question, “how do we get little girls to play video games?” Books such as, From Barbie to Mortal Combat (1999) helped to pave the way for discussions of the gendered nature of the video game industry (Cassell & Jenkins, 1999), yet research on young girls was often unfairly applied to research on women (Taylor, 2006). In turn, focusing on girls rather than women (while perhaps more practical when studying play) ultimately ignores Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” the possibility that play habits change through life cycle. Subsequent reports on video games and gender, both in industry and academia, often result in discussions and assumptions that girls and women alike prefer casual games, social games, or narrative heavy games (Ray, 2004; Subrahmanyam & Greenfield, 2000). While these discussions are useful, they do not always account for the cultural affects of gender (as opposed to the biological effects of sex). Biology is often the focus of video game studies—both in industry and academia. For instance, researchers often cite differences in cognitive abilities, stimuli, and reflexes (Isbister, 2006) as being the primary reason why women do not play the games created by an inherently masculine industry. One recent Stanford study focused on the cognitive effects of rewards in terms 3 of gender differences, concluding that men show more activity in the “mesocorticolimbic center” of the brain, which they associate with competition and addiction (Hoeft, et al, 2008). This study puts forth the clinical claim that men and boys have more “fun” playing video games than women and girls. Recent studies have only begun to critique these issues. T.L. Taylor (2008, forthcoming) suggests that future studies on gender and games should move away from this biological focus and take gender and culture more deeply into account. Similarly, the Ludica Group (a collective of gender game researchers) has begun focusing on some of the cultural logic surrounding varying tastes in video games (Fron, et al, 2007a), and has discussed the hegemonies of masculine play (Fron, et al, 2007b). Royse et al (2007) begins to break older habits used in gender and video game studies by dividing its participants into three categories: power gamers, non-gamers, and moderate gamers. Thus, while several researchers have begun to open new avenues for ways to understand gender and video games, my study uniquely examines themes of productivity in games aimed at women, which track back to larger issues of gender and play. At the same time, when studying cultural affect, it is vital to consider media which might influence play habits, such as advertising. Another major component to factor into gender and video game studies is women’s leisure. Since the late 1980s, researchers have discussed women’s leisure habits as being easily interruptible (Modleski, 1988), done in quick snippets of time, and more family-oriented than personally fulfilling (Deem, 1987). As such, women’s leisure is Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” often less absorbing and more about filling time and keeping other family members 4 entertained. Later, I illustrate how these patterns are reinforced in video game advertising aimed at women audiences. Ultimately, I argue that the emergence of video games for women has reinforced these pre-existing themes of women’s leisure. Gender and Advertising Advertising stands at a precarious place in our culture. On one hand, it exemplifies some of the basest qualities of popular culture, using manipulative propaganda techniques. From this standpoint, it is easy to be dismissive of advertising as vacuous and shallow. But these disingenuous techniques hold a larger role in our society. For instance, many Marxist critiques of advertising suggest that it fosters false ideologies and constructs desires that might not have existed otherwise (Leiss, et al, 1997). In a similarly cynical vein, postmodern critiques suggest that advertising style and meaning has been injected and diluted into all forms of culture. Baudrillard contends that, “Currently, the most interesting aspect of advertising is its disappearance, its dilution as a specific form, or even as a medium” (1984/1990, p. 90). Thus, if Baudrillard’s contention is true, it would seem foolhardy to dismiss a cultural form that currently affects so many other cultural artifacts. What all of this means is that we can often understand advertising as a barometer of our culture. According to William Leiss, et al (1997): Regarded individually and superficially, advertisements promote goods and services. Looked at in depth and as a whole, the ways in which messages are presented in advertising reach deeply into our most serious concerns: interpersonal and family relations, the sense of happiness and contentment, sex roles and stereotyping, the uses of affluence, the fading away of older cultural traditions, influences on younger generations, […] and many others. (p. 1) Given this assertion, and bearing in mind the Marxist and Postmodern critiques mentioned above, it seems naive to disregard advertising as simply shallow or artless: advertising messages show the trends, beliefs, and ideologies of a culture. Gender is often surprisingly unrepresented in studies of advertising. Erving Goffman’s Gender Advertisements (1976/1979) was one of the first texts to consider how gender is portrayed in advertising and how it complies with already understood societal Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” stereotypes about gender. In this book, Goffman looks at how positioning and facial expressions manifest into portrayals of subordination and lower social status of women 5 through everyday advertising. He is primarily concerned with ritual and how it is used to create and reproduce gender expectations. Goffman uses several categories to illustrate ways that women show subordination in advertising, including the relative size of the man and woman, the use of a “feminine touch”, function ranking between people portrayed, ritualized subordination, and licensed withdrawal. Later, I will discuss these categories in more depth, and use them to illustrate how women are portrayed and marginalized in typical video game advertisements. Since Goffman’s seminal book, others have expanded on some typical constructions of gender in advertising. Diane Barthel’s Putting on Appearances: Gender and Advertising (1988) discusses how the “beauty role” is constructed through advertising. Barthel goes significantly deeper than Goffman, discussing more feminist implications of gender constructions in advertisements. For example, in advertisements aimed at women, she shows how the “voice of authority” is used to put feminine audiences in the position of the child, through various authority figures (older women, scientists, celebrities, or other experts). Thus, rather than showing just how women are portrayed (such as Goffman does) Barthel manages to draw a fuller picture of how specific appeals are made to women to sell them both products and self-images. Similarly, in Where the Girls Are: Growing Up Female with the Mass Media (1994), Susan Douglas writes about how the mass media has sold certain images (both empowering and disempowering) to women. She explains that often advertising in recent years have twisted notions of women’s liberation into excuses for narcissism and working on self appearances. She explains: Women’s liberation became equated with women’s ability to do whatever they wanted for themselves, whenever they wanted, no matter what the expense. These ads were geared to the women who had made it in the world, or who hoped she would, and the message was reward yourself, you deserve it. (p. 246) Advertising, per Douglas, provides a means of simultaneously selling products and reinforcing ideologies about gender. While these ideological strongholds are not Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” necessarily deliberate, they do help to reaffirm stereotypes and beliefs that are already at play in our culture. In their essay “The Hegemony of Play” the Ludica Group (Fron, et al, 2007b) briefly discusses some of issues with video game advertising, many of which I will be elaborating on later in this essay. The Ludica Group explains, “Many videogame advertisements tend to disenfranchise and alienate women, further contributing to the self-fulfilling prophecy that ‘women don’t play games’” (p. 316). In this essay, the Ludica Group also discusses Nintendo setting their sights on a different kind of gamer (women), in their more recent advertising campaigns, and that this represents signs of 6 “subtle but tectonic shifts.” While, admittedly, the advertising campaigns that I discuss in the following are targeted at women audiences, I would argue that the generalizations and essentializations about feminine play at the heart of these advertisements do not necessarily escape the “hegemonies of play”, entirely. I argue that gender, advertising, and ideologies are all part of an inseparable and symbiotic relationship, where advertising very often reinforces and reaffirms gender roles and stereotypes already a part of dominant ideologies. In as much as products are sold to audiences, the same advertisements are also often reinforcing normative gender roles already present in the products and culture they are from. In what follows, I focus on how video game advertisements are punctuated with gender stereotypes. Alternately I also explore advertisements and campaigns specifically for the Nintendo DS and the Nintendo Wii and some of the ways they have been specifically marketed towards women. Typical Video Game Magazine Advertisements Methodologies In a survey I conducted of Play Magazine and Game Informer Magazine—two popular video game magazines—from July 2006 through June 2007. Game Informer had a total of 395 advertisements and Play had a total of 274 advertisements throughout the course of the year (See Table 1). Of the advertisements for video games (59% of the total ads in Game Informer and 64% of the total ads in Play), 32% of the video game advertisements in Game Informer had any images of women, while 57% of the advertisements in Play did. Many of these advertisements ran several times (and between Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 7 magazines) and ultimately there were a total of 93 distinct advertisements over the course of the year that had any women in them (in major or minor roles). Because this included characters in advertisements that were in minor roles (such as part of small screen shots, characters that were significantly smaller, less lighted, more abstractly drawn, or were not the overall visual focus of the page) it was necessary to determine how many of these advertisements had women or girl characters in major roles, to fairly determine how women were depicted in these advertisements. By ruling out women and girls in screen shots, who were significantly smaller, or more abstractly drawn, I determined that there were a total of 47 distinct advertisements over the course of the year, in both magazines, that featured female characters in major roles. Using Goffman’s criteria in Gender Advertisements, I studied each of these advertisements to determine several factors in how female characters were depicted: their facial expressions, eye positioning, “feminine touch”, and the potential of powerfulness depicted through size, stance, relative positioning, function ranking, and “licensed withdrawal”1, as well as my own factors which include looking clothing and whether the woman shown was playing the game or a character in it (see Table 2). One of the most striking things is that despite being written in the 1970s, Goffman’s text still can be used to describe many advertisements today. While several of the advertisements had more than one female character (making some of these things more difficult to assess), I attempted to factor all of these things into my findings. In what follows I will give a brief description of some of my findings over the year’s worth of magazines, and then use semiotic analysis to analyze some specific advertisements more carefully. It is also important to note, here, that my analysis is not of the games themselves—what interests me here is not how women are depicted in video games, but rather, how they are presented to readers. By illustrating this, it becomes easier to show how women might be marginalized by the advertisements in typical video game advertising, and how this might affect purchase and play of these video games. In addition to using Goffman’s categories, I also use semiotic analysis to more thoroughly analyze a few specific advertisements. In Mythologies (1957/1972) Roland Barthes discusses the value of using semiotic analysis to better understand cultural myths 1 I will later explain the Goffman categories in more detail. Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” —including advertising. Per Barthes, a myth is a type of speech which is a “mode of signification” (p. 109) for a culture. As such, he explains how one can use semiotic analysis—the study of sign and sign systems—to decode cultural mythologies. Barthes describes the process of decoding mythologies into sign systems as part of a “tridimensional pattern”: the signifier, the signified, and the sign. Using an example of flowers, Barthes explains: Take a bunch of roses: I use it to signify my passion. Do we have here, then, only a signifier and a signified, the roses and my passion? Not even that: to put it accurately, there are here only ‘passionified’ roses. But on the plane of analysis, we do have three terms, for these roses weighted with passion perfectly and correctly allow themselves to be decomposed into roses and passion: the former and the latter existed before uniting and forming this third object, which is the sign.” (p. 113) [emphasis his] The sign, signifier, and signified can be used as a roadmap to understand imagery and text in any cultural mythology, including advertisements. Thus, one can use Barthes’ system of semiotic analysis to decode cultural myths by looking at many of the smaller components and examining them as sign systems. Video Game Magazine Advertisement Analysis Two factors that play a large role in Goffman’s analysis of gender in advertising are facial expressions and eye positions (where the subject is looking). These, he contends, play a role in how women and femininity are depicted. Of facial expressions, Goffman explains that women often are seen smiling and wearing non-threatening facial expressions: “Smiles, it can be argued, often function as ritualistic mollifiers, signaling that nothing agonistic is intended or invited, that the meaning of the other’s act has been 8 understood and found acceptable, that, indeed, the other is approved and appreciated” (p. 48). This is the case with many of the women depicted in the video game advertisements that were smiling or smirking in some way: in 28% of the advertisements one or all of the female characters depicted were smirking or smiling (see Table 2). Thus, even the more powerful figures in these advertisements are often portrayed as dependent and ultimately powerless. Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” Regarding the position and eye line of the subject Goffman explains, “The 9 lowering of the head presumably withdraws attention from the scene at hand, dependency entailed and indicated thereby. The gain is that one’s feelings will be momentarily concealed—although, of course, not the fact that one is attempting such concealment […] Mere aversion of the eyes can apparently serve similarly” (p. 63). It’s striking that 66% of the advertisements that featured feminine characters in Play and Game Informer had women or girls with averted eyes, or who were not looking directly ahead—most either lowered or off to the side (see Table 2). Another major factor that Goffman refers to is “licensed withdrawal.” He explains, “Women more than men, it seems, are pictured engaged in involvements which remove them psychologically from the social situation at large, leaving them unoriented in it and to it, and presumably therefore, dependent on the protectiveness and goodwill of others who (or might come to be) present” (p. 57). In addition to the aforementioned coy smiles and off-screen glances, licensed withdrawal often is portrayed through placing a hand on or near the mouth or body to indicate an emotional response. At the same time, as Goffman noted, licensed withdrawal connotes dependence. In the advertisements in Play and Game Informer, 66% had women or girls who displayed licensed withdrawal (see Table 2). In Gender Advertisements, Goffman also discusses how positioning on the page, relative size, and function ranking all play a large role in how gender is constructed in advertisements. According to Goffman, women are generally depicted both as smaller than men, both height and width and in ways that their function ranking is physically visible. Height and size of the women and girls varied considerably, but in 21% of the advertisements women or girls were smaller than then men. In 34% of the advertisements, the women were positioned behind the men. Goffman also discusses the use of hands or the “feminine touch.” Goffman explains that, “Women, more than men, are pictured using their fingers and hands to trace the outlines of an object or to cradle it or to caress its surface (the latter sometimes under the guise of guiding it), or to effect a ‘just barely touch’ of the kind that might be significant between two electrically charged bodies” (p. 29). While on one hand there is a utilitarian purpose to holding weapons in a game where there is fighting, the use of Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” hands, and the specificity of seeing ungloved fingers in each of these ads is telling. The feminine character in these advertisements are not so much fighting as they are 10 displaying a weapon in a way that gives it the sexual affect described by Goffman. 57% percent of the advertisements that had women in them were either touching themselves, displaying their hands, touching weapons, or touching others (see Table 2). Other factors that I analyzed that were not part of Goffman’s analysis (but are shown in Table 2) were how revealing the female character’s clothing is, and whether the person depicted was a player or a game character. 66% of the women and girls were wearing sexually provocative or revealing clothing—a statistic which is generally unsurprising for the genre. Additionally, only 1% of the women and girls depicted in the advertisements were shown as players rather than in-game characters. Unto itself, this number is not surprising—the majority of characters in video game magazines advertisements tend to focus more on game characters than on players. This statistic becomes far more compelling when compared to some of the advertisements discussed in the second half of this study—almost all of the advertisements in women’s magazines showed players rather than in-game characters. Ultimately, these advertisements help to construct a feminine marginalization in the typical video game world. This marginalization, I argue, reflects who is being authorized to play video games. In the following, I analyze specific advertisements that I feel highlight this feminine marginalization. It is my contention that not only do the following advertisements help to marginalize potential women players who might happen upon them, they also create an image that women and girls do not belong in this overall playscape. While all games are not aimed solely at masculine audiences, the fact that the two magazines that I reviewed which both specialized in video game topics have so many advertisements that essentialize or ignore femininity illustrates how overwhelmingly marginalized women and girls are in the video game industry. The first advertisement is for the game Lzuna, (see Figure 1). The ad, which appeared in several months of Play Magazine in 2007, features the title character, alone, holding a sword over her shoulder. The advertisement’s text brags, “Finally, a Dungeon RPG strong enough for a man… but played as a hot CHICK.” This headline, of course, is a play on the popular deodorant advertisement (“Strong enough for a man but made for a Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” woman”). The difference between the original deodorant advertisement and the 11 advertisement for Lzuna is the distinction between “made for” and “played as”: in no way does this advertisement infer that anyone but a man is meant to “play as” this “hot CHICK.” The image of the woman to the left of the text shows the reader the “hot CHICK” they are able to play as. Lzuna’s is presented as sexually attractive, with her face partially hidden by hair, and profiled in the aforementioned sense of licensed withdrawal. Her eyes are also averted downward. Lzuna’s pose is almost prostitute-like: most of her body is visible and her hip, pointed outward, displays her curves and bare leg. She holds a very long sword over one shoulder (her arm, in part, hiding her face), her fingers only lightly grazing the sword handle. Her arms reaching upwards also manage to display a profile of her (clothed) breasts for the audience. Despite being more clothed than the characters in many other video game advertisements, she wears fishnet sleeves— again an inference of prostitution. Lzuna has a slight smile on her face, and her eyes are focused off in the distance—a facial expression of licensed withdrawal—once again, per Goffman, showing her as ultimately powerless. For a character that is “strong enough for a man,” Lzuna is hardly menacing. The text below the headline, though, is even more telling of how this advertisement might marginalize feminine video game players. It explains, “You have the privilege of controlling the cutest ninja ever, lzuna (that’s me!), through all these different dungeons. Customize my weapons and unleash devastating ninja spells to destroy monsters and score major treasure. Let’s face it, I need the cash” (emphasis, mine). The word “controlling” is key here. The potential player is not being told they can role-play as a feminine character, but rather as advertised in the headline, that they can control a “hot chick,” a decidedly masculine phrase for woman. Because it has already been established that the game is “strong enough for a man” it is clear that this “controlling” is not to be done by a female player, but is expected to be done by a male. Further, the final line (“Let’s face it, I need the cash”) reinforces this control theme with the hint of prostitution: by spending money on the game the player is able to control the actions of “the cutest ninja ever.” Thus, this advertisement reinforces a notion that feminine players have a limited role in the gaming world, and are only controllable avatars. Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” The second advertisement (Figure 2) is not for a specific game, but for the 12 Playstation Portable (PSP) system, which appeared in September 2006 of Game Informer Magazine. This advertisement, somewhat similarly to Lzuna allows game play to provide a substitute for desire and sexuality. In this advertisement, a small diorama stage sets the “PSP Theater” wherein two finger puppets are playing the roles of Romeo and Juliet. The Juliet character, on a makeshift balcony, declares the expected, “Romeo, Romeo, where art thou Romeo?” But rather than the obligatory rejoinder, Romeo scoffs, “I am busy playing PSP Greatest Hits for $19.99, so call someone else’s name like Frank or something.” This advertisement is compelling on several levels—first because of the way the feminine figure (finger) is marginalized from video game play both physically and psychologically. The Juliet character is pleading for romance in an entirely essentializing way—wearing all white and claiming a somewhat chaste desire. The male character not only dismisses her by verbally professing his love for PSP games (over her love), but by physically showing desire towards the games rather than the heteronormative scenario that has been presented to him. As can be seen in the advertisement, because the Romeo finger is being played with a Thumb, half of a pointer finger juts out below him, arguably showing a simulated erection—not towards Juliet, but rather, towards the images of the games. These games, on puppet-like popsicle sticks (continuing the makeshift theater theme) embody a third character—technological play. Given the masculine finger’s simulated erection, romantic and heterosexual desire is thus being replaced by video game play and technological desire. While the feminine character does not necessarily embody all of the previously mentioned Goffman themes (we are unable to glean her facial expression, and “feminine touch” is a useless concept for a finger puppet), her physical separation from both the masculine finger puppet and the games is indicative of both function ranking (she is apart from the play, on a balcony) as well as licensed withdrawal. The reader/viewer is being shown that femininity has a specific role (or lack of role) within video game play. The advertisement for Viva Piñata, (Figure 3) does not use sexuality in reference to video game play, but instead presents an overall feminine disdain for unstructured play. The advertisement for the virtual piñata game shows a family in the aftermath of a birthday party where a piñata game has presumably gotten out of hand. A boy is Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 13 removing his blindfold and has lowered the piñata stick, and a large hole in the fence is in the shape of an escaped piñata. The center of a birthday cake has been trampled through due to the renegade piñata. The boy who has presumably hit the piñata to its current state looks slightly confused (likely due to needing to remove his blindfold). A mother figure stands to the right of a picnic table, her head turned towards the broken fence (and away from the camera) with one hand on her chest and the other serving fruit punch from a pitcher. The two girls standing at opposite ends of the table both have physical or facial expressions of panic: one is screaming with her hands upward, and the other one is similarly holding her hands in the air with her fists closed (her back, like the mother is turned to the camera). Two other masculine figures—a father and another boy, stand looking out of the fence, while both seem mildly curious and surprised, neither seem nearly as hysterical or shocked as the female characters do. The advertisement is striking because other than the smaller text on the lower half of the page (and the fact that it was in a video game magazine) one would not necessarily ordinarily assume that this advertisement was for a video game. In fact, the play that is being represented is not part of newer play technologies, but rather, older (and familyoriented) kinds of play. But just as with the advertisements that are more clearly for video games, femininity is being marginalized in this playscape. Thus, while it was a boy who spun the piñata out of control, and men who are calmly assessing the situation, the women and girls are the ones reacting aversely towards the play gone awry: the girls are presented hysterically and the mother is withdrawn, holding her hand to her chest. Once again, even in older forms of play, this advertisement is suggesting that women and girls are not equipped for the unexpected mayhem that play might produce. Advertising Aimed at Feminine Audiences The next part of this chapter looks at an entirely different kind of video game advertising—advertising not aimed at traditional gamers (as was seen in Play and Game Informer) but those which have been aimed specifically at women audiences. These advertisements primarily have been for one of two newer Nintendo systems: the handheld gaming system the Nintendo DS Lite, and the home console system the Nintendo Wii. Since approximately Spring 2006, Nintendo has begun advertising these systems in Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 14 venues where women might encounter them. The following section does not analyze the specific games in detail, but rather, analyzes ways that these games are advertised and sold to this new demographic. As I did with the previous advertisements that I discussed, I will be looking at how advertising constructs images of feminine play. Many of the advertisements that I will be discussing do not necessarily highlight the playful potential of the video games they are promoting, but rather their productivity as well as for their ability to supposedly bring families closer together. Methodologies In this section I review magazine advertising that specifically targets feminine audiences. All of the advertising that I discuss appeared between May 2006 and August 2008. Obviously, there are several differences, methodologically, with how I dealt with this material as opposed to the video game magazine advertising I analyzed in the first part of this study. Because there were considerably fewer video game advertisements in non-video game magazines, I decided that it was necessary to encompass a larger time period in my study—a total of 28 months. The months selected were not arbitrary—my study begins a month before the release of the Nintendo DS Lite (when it is first being marketed to feminine audiences), through the release of the Nintendo Wii, up until the release of the Wii Fit game. Because advertising for video games were sporadic (and often there was not more than one advertisement for a video game or video game system per month) as well as redundant (several ads ran in several magazines) statistic results and percentages would not necessarily hold the same relevance as they did in Table 2. Table 3, instead, illustrates the 28 month spread of video game advertisements in magazines, by platform. While time and resources limited the number of magazines I researched for video game advertising, I tried to get a cross-section which included women’s and men’s general interest magazine, as well as magazines that have more gender neutral audiences. I charted video game advertisements in nine popular magazines2 (see Table 3) noting both full page advertisements as well as small promotional ads that were on larger pages The magazines I reviewed were Real Simple Magazine, Oprah Magazine, People Magazine, Good Housekeeping, Martha Stewart Living, Redbook, Esquire, Wired Magazine,, and Time Magzine. 2 Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 15 with several other featured items of the month (in Table 3 referred to as “promo” ads). I did not include actual magazine articles in this study, and also did not include advertisements for video game systems that were specifically for children or babies (such as the V-Flash system) as I did not feel this was relevant to my study3. While, unfortunately, this does not provide a fully comprehensive tally of every time every advertisement appeared in any magazine, I feel fairly confident that my cross-section covers the majority of the major Nintendo advertising campaigns (aimed at this demographic) over this time period, and that additional magazines would have been mostly redundant. Finally, readers might note that this study primarily focuses on Nintendo products. This is not brand preference on my part, but rather because very few advertisements appeared for non-Nintendo games and products in magazines aimed at women (Wired had other consoles and games, but these advertisements were, other than when noted, similar to the game advertisements in Play and Game Informer). Thus, the few incidences of advertisements for other video game systems appeared as part of pullouts or larger advertisements for stores such as Target and Wal-Mart. Generally, these advertisements were suggesting gaming systems as family gifts, and not about the women readers, themselves, playing games (see Table 3). Nintendo DS Lite: Doing Something with Your Nothing The Nintendo DS (standing for Dual Screen) was unusually positioned to enter a more feminized video game market from its inception. The DS Lite, released in June of 2006, is a handheld (portable) game system with two screens: the upper screen has visual output, while the lower has a touch screen which can be manipulated with a built-in stylus. The small system was quickly positioned by Nintendo as a potential “accessory” and one Nintendo executive was quoted in a news article saying, “It definitely should be part of every purse […] you have your cellphone, your iPod, and your DS Lite” (Harris p. F15). Thus, from its inception, the DS Lite began to use various marketing methods to target feminine audiences. The DS Lite entered the market with the slogan, “Lighter, Because I am specifically studying women’s play and video games that are aimed at women, educational games or game systems that are meant solely for children were tangential to my research. 3 Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” Brighter” and was immediately advertised in a variety of magazines, on billboards in 16 commuter zones, and on television commercial spots: each showing women playing with the handheld game system (Harris, p. F15). What is particularly compelling about these advertising campaigns is that, for the most part, they did not always attempt to sell “play” to these new feminine consumers. Instead, a theme of productivity through leisure became a constant theme throughout many of the Nintendo DS Lite advertisements— generally through either self improvement games or so-called “casual games4”. One of the more compelling examples of this productivity was part of a “Do Something With Your Nothing” advertisement slogan that appeared in DS advertisements in several women’s magazines. One such advertisement (Figure 4) which appeared in the September 2006 issue of Oprah Magazine, shows three people—two women and one man—in a waiting room. One of the women is playing with a Nintendo DS (and smiling) while the other man and the woman are slumped over in their seats, clearly bored while waiting to be called. The advertisement’s main text suggests, “The average wait in a doctor’s office is 23.4 minutes. Do something with your nothing.” The advertisement is clearly targeting a feminine readership, and suggesting a proper time and place for video game play. While the woman playing the video game is the focus of the ad (wearing a much brighter red than the other two people in the waiting room), the other woman is a secondary focus—slumped over the side of her seat, and decidedly less happy than the woman who is playing. The man is set back further than the two women in this advertisement, and is more about background: the advertisement is highlighting the women. Similarly, another advertisement in this campaign (Figure 5) shows three people standing at a bus stop—two men and a woman—and this time a man who is happily playing with his Nintendo DS, while the other two are slumped over the sides of the bus stop. This ad suggests, “The average wait for a city bus is 12.8 minutes. Do something with your nothing.” While this advertisement does not show the woman playing the DS, it is the woman the advertisement is speaking to. The woman is more well-lit than the other characters in the advertisement and is the only person standing—and is therefore Casual games are games that are low in narrative, can be played for very short snippets of time, and are easy to learn. 4 Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” one of the primary focal points. Like the other advertisement, the two men are now positioned behind the one woman who is the person situated closest to the reader. Arguably, it is her that the advertisement is making the appeal to “do something with [her] nothing.” 17 Both of the advertisements are telling about the kind of play that had begun to be promoted to women during the summer of 2006. These advertisements are targeting nonplaying woman—not because of the value and importance of play but rather to fill all available time. Each of the women in the advertisements are chastised to “do something with [their] nothing” (as are those women who are reading the magazine). These advertisements are not necessarily highlighting the value of play, but rather insist on the value of productivity: all time must be spent in some productive way. Thus, these advertisements are some of the first to set an important trend where video games are not advertised to women for their play-potential but for their value as ways to use up any excess time in a woman’s schedule. Specific Nintendo DS games have also been advertised similarly, reinforcing gendered themes and pitching productivity as a goal for play. A perfect example of this was for two advertisements for the brain improvement game Brain Age: Train Your Brain in Minutes a Day which ran in May and June of 2006 in both men’s and women’s magazines. The first advertisement (Figure 6) appeared in magazines including Real Simple, Oprah Magazine, and People Magazine. The second advertisement (Figure 7) appeared in magazines including Wired Magazine and Time Magazine. As a contrast, the two ads are compelling both for their similarities and their vast differences. Both advertisements are structured like an advertorial (giving the impression of being more of an informational magazine article than an advertisement). Both have a person (one a woman and one a man) playing the game in the left hand corner of the ad. The advertising copy is structured similarly on both pages, and in some places the advertising copy is identical in both advertisements. It is the similarities of these ads that make the highly gendered differences so compelling, highlighting how games are marketed differently to men and women. Both advertisements are composed of almost equal amounts of image and text. In these advertisements, the text is key to understanding how gendered play is constructed. Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 18 The title of the masculine advertisement (in all caps) reads, “CAN YOU USE A VIDEO GAME TO REWIRE YOUR BRAIN?” which suggests a highly technologically focused message. Written in all-caps, the text is yelling at the audience. Conversely, the feminine headline uses a subtler and softer statement (not a question): “What the Japanese have discovered about the fountain of youth.” While both headlines suggest self improvement, the headline for the advertisement with the woman immediately infers beauty, self care, and health, while the masculine advertisement automatically discusses video games, technology, and the brain. It is significant to note that the phrase “video game” is never used at all in the feminine version of the advertisement. In effect, the feminine ad goes on to suggest that taking care of one’s brain is part of the daily beauty regimen that all women should be partaking in. At one point it concludes that “A 36-24-36 cerebrum is just a few exercises away.” This striking phrase manages to not only equate mental fitness to physical fitness, but does so by using sexist imagery to describe an “ideal” of feminine beauty. The masculine advertisement, conversely, suggests that playing this game might help them become more competitive with their co-workers. Both advertisements preach a kind of productivity (a “do something with your nothing,” if you will) but the feminine implications of health and beauty suggests more about self-maintenance, while the masculine advertisement suggests a more playful form of agonism—similar to typical video game advertising. Visually these advertisements reinforce what their text says outright: that play and technology is a masculine domain that can only be entered into by women under the guise of beauty and self-care productivity. Coloring is a key factor in how these advertisements are constructed. Both in the masculine and feminine advertisements the heads of the models have light attached to them—the man’s head is lit up like it is wired with circuitry, while the woman’s head produces a haloed effect. There is a harder light against the darker page in the masculine ad, making it appear more serious—and more game-like. Conversely, the softness of the feminine ad allows it to appear non-threatening —it is the head and face, rather than the brain that is being stressed in this advertisement. This use of coloring, light, and darkness in both ads helps to reinforce the messages each advertisement is attempting to convey. Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 19 How the models are positioned in the advertisements also helps to reinforce their messages. While both models are featured in profile, the woman’s head is looking slightly downward at the DS, while the man’s head and eyes are looking up at the technology he’s reaching for with his arm. The positioning of each model’s head evokes Goffman’s discussion on “the ritual of subordination.” He explains, “A classic stereotype of deference is that of lowering oneself physically in some form or other of prostration. Correspondingly, holding the body erect and the head high is stereotypically a mark of unashamedness, superiority, and disdain” (p. 40). While the advertisements each only feature one person, the relative positioning of each is compelling. The man’s body implies the “unashamedness and superiority” suggested by Goffman, while the woman’s is lowered implying deference. The woman is cradling the Nintendo DS in her hand, which evokes Goffman’s previous discussion of the “feminine touch. Alternately, the placement of the man’s hand relative to the Nintendo DS emphasizes the technology more than the human. In this version of the ad, the technology is suspended in midair, with the man’s hand (and stylus) reaching up to it. The man does not appear to be threatened by the mid-air technology; although by looking up at it he is shown as dominated by the Nintendo DS. The floating Nintendo ultimately gives the masculine ad a futuristic tone: he is looking upward at the technology of the future, and the technology is suspended in air in an impossible way. On one hand, the man’s positioning shows him as dominated by the DS, while the woman is the dominant figure in her advertisement. Alternately, though, interpretations of these positions are far from straight-forward. In effect, the man is allowed to be challenged by a superior technology, while the woman is shown dominating it as though it were an older technology (a book). In effect, these placements presume and attempt to forecast an audience response based on stereotyping gender and technology. Nintendo Wii: Gender and Family Play Time While the Nintendo DS uses productivity and practicality to convince feminine audiences to play more, advertising campaigns for the Nintendo Wii use a different Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” technique. The Nintendo Wii was released in November 2006 as a entirely new kind of 20 gaming system. Instead of using typical joysticks and game controllers, this system uses a Wii remote and motion sensors so that the player’s movements are directly mimicked by on-screen play. Thus, when playing a tennis game, the player must swing the Wii remote like a racket, and other games have similarly intuitive controls. By changing the interface of the typical console video game system, many felt that Nintendo was trying to appeal to a larger, non-gamer market, including a more feminine audience (Shields, 2008). While not all Wii campaigns are aimed at women, I will show how the ones that are targeted at feminine audiences all use a specific theme: the use of play to bring the family together. These advertisements suggest that playing the Wii with one’s family is productive, fun, and will garner love from all family members. Rather than promoting play as singular “me” time or time fillers as the advertisements for the Nintendo DS did, these advertisements suggest family Wii-time as a means of closing generational gaps. In many ways, this campaign resembles some of the methods that have been used to market food to women. In Food is Love: Advertising and Gender Roles in Modern America (2006), Katherine Parkin discusses how the advertising of food was used to infer family values, and often to create bonds between family members. She writes: Advertisers wanted consumers to believe that their food products had the ability to create connections and continuity between the perceived constancy of the past and the chaos of the present. Moreover, they wanted women to assume responsibility for creating traditions in their family’s history” (p. 44). Thus, while there are several distinctions between food advertising and advertising for the Wii gaming system, both use similar tactics to suggest that the use of the product will create memories, love, and the togetherness of traditional family values. In effect, these Nintendo Wii campaigns have attempted to suggest that play is love. According to Margaret Hofer (2003), the suggestion that game play reinforces family values began with game manufacturers in the late 1800s. She explains that a catalogue for McLoughlin Brothers in 1895 suggests: Games are a necessity in every family, and parents should see to it that their children are well supplied with them. They not only amuse, but serve to instruct and educate them. They tend to make happy firesides, and keep children Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” at home instead of compelling them to seek amusement away from the family circle. (p. 53) Slightly updated for current times, Nintendo in their attempts to market their game 21 system to women, uses similar advertising tactics that suggest that the perfect family can be created through community play. While this, unto itself, is certainly not a problem it essentializes feminine play to productive play, and legitimizes it by suggesting that playing with one’s family is one of the only acceptable forms of feminine play. Several advertisements for the Wii (both those that were aimed at feminine audiences and those that were not) used the slogan “Wii would like to play.” To begin with, the Wii/we pun is one that is used consistently through several of the early Nintendo Wii advertising campaigns and alludes to a “community” image promoted by the console system. Figure 8 shows an early advertisement (which ran in Good Housekeeping in April 2007) that similarly uses the commercial slogan. “Wii would like to play,” does not infer the old image of the console gaming system where one or two people sit silently in front of a television—it suggests community and ultimately many people playing together. The multigenerational themes that attempt to combine older family values with younger more technology-savvy generations harkens back to what Parkin writes in Food is Love and Hofer infers with the 19th century themes of family play. According to the advertisement in Figure 8, the Nintendo Wii is, “[…] a way for the whole family to find some common ground—and you know how far that can get you with your kids. Maybe it’s time to seal up that generation gap once and for all.” Thus, the magazine advertising for the Wii is offering their product as a way to create family community through play. By purchasing a Nintendo Wii, the advertisement suggests, the family can reconnect through traditional values. In summer 2007, Wii launched the “My Wii story” advertising campaign. Through the Nintendo web site http://www.mywiistory.com5, people were invited to write in stories about the transformative powers of the Nintendo Wii and how it has helped their lives and families. While both sexes wrote in to My Wii Story, the majority of the submissions were made by women. 5 This web site is no longer active, and is currently listed as “under construction.” Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” Several selected stories were turned into magazine advertisements—often appearing in women’s special interest magazines and all written by women players. In effect, these advertisements are not necessarily promoting that women play more, but rather, that they use play as a means of connecting their families (and connecting with their families). Thus, while the theme of these ads is not quite the same as the “Do something with your nothing” theme of the Nintendo DS advertisements, there is still a decidedly productive theme embedded in them. 22 In large part, these advertisements use anecdotes and personal experience as tools of persuasion. Figures 9 shows one of the My Wii Story posts that became a magazine advertisement (and ran in Martha Stewart: Living in September 2007 and February 2008). All of the My Wii Stories in magazines start off with a testimonial quote about what they like about the Wii gaming system. Below each of these testimonial quotes is a woman’s signature—a personal advocacy of the product. The advertisement in Figure 9 uses the aforementioned Play is Love theme within the testimonial of the My Wii Story author, Nancy Ponthier. In this testimonial, Wii play is even more directly associated with family togetherness—the main picture shows a mother playfully hugging her son, while negotiating the Wii remote. Her headline quote says, “It’s the first video game I’ve really enjoyed playing.” This advertisement like other My Wii Stories draws a sharp distinction between “typical” video games and the Nintendo Wii system. Nancy Ponthier’s testimonial continues: I’ve never been a fan of video games. But Wii is so interactive and gets everyone involved. We really like playing together as a family, so we quickly moved it from my son’s room to the living room. We even like making Mii characters together. They’re funny and we get a kick out of describing each other. I took a crack at making my own Mii. Then my kids told me it wasn’t “pretty enough” and made it better. I thought that was sweet. They were just so happy I was interested in a video game. In addition to the Play is Love theme that Nancy Ponthier is implying with this story the children recreating her Mii to make it “prettier” reinforces the theme that a Nintendo Wii will bring the family closer. In effect the causal statement, “I thought that was sweet. They were just so happy I was interested in a video game” implies that her children might Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” love her slightly more for playing video games. Like the other Wii stories, this one 23 works to downplay some of its play aspects—describing it in ways that set it apart from other video game systems. The headline states this upfront with, “It’s the first video game I’ve really enjoyed playing.” By creating a sharp distinction between typical video game play and Wii play, the advertisement allows women to see the game system differently. Other My Wii Stories printed in magazines carry very similar themes that essentialize feminine play and turn it into family play. Women’s play, thus, becomes translated into facilitating family play—not necessarily playing for their own personal enjoyment, but in order to gain the love of their families and create a common language between family members. As previously mentioned, this is a common theme of women in leisure studies. My final example is the advertising campaign for Wii Fit. Wii Fit, an exercise game played using the Nintendo Wii and a unique “balance board”, came out in May 2008, and like other Nintendo Wii games has quickly begun to target more feminine audiences, advertising in magazines such as Oprah Magazine and Good Housekeeping. The Wii Fit magazine advertisement (Figure 10) continues the aforementioned theme of family togetherness, using a multigenerational and multigendered approach. The advertisement headline asks at the top of the page, “How will it move you?” Below this question, are 20 separate bodies: the ad shows 20 different people, of different ages, different races, and different sexes, in different positions on the Wii balance board. All of the players are wearing a homogenizing white (though different articles of clothing), and each shows movement: none appear to be standing still. Similar to the women’s advertisement for Brain Age (Figure 6), the advertisement for Wii Fit never uses the phrase “video game”: it almost entirely focuses its pitch on fitness and movement. The text at the bottom of the advertisement explains: Step on to the Wii Balance Board and into a new kind of play. Use it with your Wii system to enjoy fun family activities like Hula Hoop, ski-jumping, and heading soccer balls, just to name a few. With over 40 different kinetic challenges, it will move you silly. And you can set goals and track your progress as you master the arts of yoga, aerobic activities, strength training, and balance games. Fitness has a fun side, but if you want to play, you gotta move. Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” In many ways, this advertisement uses a combination of the two aforementioned video 24 game pitches for women. The advertisement promotes the productivity of fitness similar to how the Brain Age advertisement promoted mental health, and also suggests a kind of constant movement similar to what is implied with the “Do Something With Your Nothing” campaign. At the same time, the cross-section of ages and sexes, and the implication of family play in the text infers that (like other Wii games) this game will promote family togetherness—it is play meant to construct a common ground and nullify generation gaps. In effect, the gendered nature of the message of Wii Fit lies in its slogan headline, “How will it move you?” While, obviously, this is referring in part to physical movement —evidenced by the moving bodies plastered over the advertisement, there is also an emotional movement that can be inferred here—in effect, it is asking when one’s family spends more time playing together, how it might emotionally “move you.” Movement thus becomes a mode of play. On one hand the player is engaged in the constant movement of a “do something with your nothing” paradigm. But, alternately, the player is also being wrapped into the “movement” of emotional family bonding. In playing Wii Fit, women seem almost automatically bound to these gendered modes of play. Conclusion If advertising can be seen as a barometer of cultural trends, then magazine advertising becomes a compelling and useful way to understand the gendering of video game play. While more traditional video games are still advertised in problematic and sexist ways to masculine audiences, in recent years a more inclusive kind of video game advertising has begun to emerge in popular women’s magazines. To some extent, this is a positive change—broader advertising campaigns mean larger (and more sex-inclusive) audiences for video games. But the advertisements aimed at women often still problematize what it means for women to “play”—many of them promote productivity or family play more than cathartic experiences of play for the sake of play. The magazine advertising that I reviewed showed a marginalizing attitude towards women in typical video game advertisements, and an essentializing one in recent advertisements specifically aimed at feminine audiences. In essence, this may be evidence to a larger Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” problem that exceeds to boundaries of video games—it pushes into issues of women’s leisure and how they “play”, with or without emerging technologies. 25 There is no question that advertising video games to women in these magazines is a positive move—by broadening audiences and entitling more people (both men and women) to play, traditional boundaries are being broken. At the same time it is important to survey how play is being marketed to women, and the implications implicit in this marketing. While new games might open up new territories and dissolve boundaries, it becomes important to consider new margins that might be counterpart to these kinds of play. Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” Table 1: Game Informer and Play Magazine Advertising from July 2006 – June 2007 (12 Months) Total ads GI 395 Play 274 Video Game Ads 232 174 26 Video Game Ads w/ Females 99 74 Table 2: Content Analysis of GI and Play Advertisements with women Distinct Ads with Females in a Major Role: 47 Ads where women display “licensed withdrawal” Ads with women in revealing clothing Ads with one or more female smiling Ads with one or more female smaller than males Ads with one or more female below or behind males Ads where women use “feminine touch” Ads where women were looking down or to the side Ads where women shown as the player % of ads 64% 66% 28% 21% 34% 57% 66% 1% Table 3: Number of Video Game Ads in non-video game magazines from May 2006August 2008 (28 Months) Magazine Total VG ads Wii ads DS ads Wii promo DS promo Other Esquire Good Housekeeping Martha Stewart Oprah People 0 7 2 11 9 0 7 2 5 3 0 0 0 3 2 0 0 0 2 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 0 4 Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” Real Simple Redbook Time Wired 9 3 1 26 2 3 0 0 4 0 1 2 1 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 1 0 0 23 27 Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 28 Figure 1: Lzuna Advertisement (Play Magazine, April 2007) Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 29 Figure 2: PSP Advertisement (Game Informer Magazine, September 2006) Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” Figure 3: Viva Piñata Advertisement (Play Magazine, December 2006) 30 Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 31 Figure 4: Nintendo DS Doctor Office Advertisement (Oprah Magazine, September 2006) Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 32 Figure 5: Nintendo DS Bus Stop Advertisement (Real Simple Magazine, August 2006) Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 33 Figure 6: Brain Age Advertisement (Real Simple Magazine, June 2006) Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 34 Figure 7: Brain Age Advertisement (Wired Magazine, May 2006) Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 35 Figure 8: Wii Advertisement (Good Housekeeping, April 2007) Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 36 Figure 9: My Wii Story Advertisement (Martha Stewart Living, September 2007) Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” 37 Figure 10: Wii Fit Advertisement (Good Housekeeping, July 2008) Shira Chess: “A 36-24-36 Cerebrum” Works Cited Barthel, D. 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