Christopher Bartel

Videogames have emerged as an influential and highly successful form of fiction. As with all fiction, we can wonder what potential they might have to provoke empathy and what benefits or limitations might come with the medium. Among their limitations is the problem of empathetic games: to empathize with a videogame character, players must have some concern for their well-being; but to learn how to play the game, players must take an attitude of sporting detachment to strategize given the character’s affordances and limitations. However, this problem is not as intractable as it first seems, but can be resolved through thoughtful game design that focuses on internalizing the character’s perspective. For instance, Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice (Ninja Theory 2017) resolves the problem of empathetic games and offers an engaging and empathetic view of psychosis.

Toys are aesthetic objects. Like games, they are objects whose aesthetic value arises through the user’s interaction. However, toys are also unlike games in some important respects. Many philosophical accounts tend to offer ontological explanations of the difference between toys and games; however, such accounts lead to unintuitive consequences. In this essay, I argue that toys and games are fundamentally forms of play, employing a modified version of Roger Caillois’ account of ‘play’. I further argue that the distinction between toy-play and game-play has to do with the individual’s focus of attention, where the toy-play is ‘object-directed’ attention and the game-play is ‘process-directed’ attention.

Artificial moral patients (or AMPs) are those things successfully made to resemble moral patients, but are not. They are artificial both in the sense that they are made by us (artefacts), and that they are not a real instance of what they are made to resemble (artifice). ChatGPT, sex dolls, social robots, and non-player characters are all examples of AMPs. As these technologies start to resemble humans with greater accuracy the question as to how we should treat them becomes increasingly important. We consider whether work on the Gamer's Dilemma, a puzzle concerning virtual wrongdoings, may provide a useful framework for addressing this question.

Bernard Suits’ groundbreaking work, The Grasshopper: Games, Life, and Utopia, has profoundly shaped the philosophy of sport. Its sequel, Return of the Grasshopper: Games, Leisure, and the Good Life in the Third Millennium, released in October 2022, enriches scholarly understandings of Suits’ views on games, emphasizing the normative aspects of gameplay and its impact on people’s pursuit of the good life. In this book symposium, world-leading Suits scholars analyze the Suitsian conception of gameplay and its relevance to his views on Utopia outlined in the sequel, covering a wide range of topics. Filip Kobiela explores counterfactual situations in Suits’ oeuvre. Christopher Bartel and Gwen Bradford scrutinize the ethical nature and ramifications of Suits’ claim that life is an unconscious game. R. Scott Kretchmar and John S. Russell present thoughtful critiques of Suits’ musings on Utopia. William J. Morgan’s contribution integrates contemporary work studies to illuminate Suits’ utopia. The symposium concludes with the editors, Francisco Javier Lopez Frias and Christopher Yorke, offering their perspectives on Suitsian Utopia, ethics, and metaethics.

The aesthetics of video games has as much to do with the player as it has to do with the game itself. The aesthetic values that players find in video games depends on the kind of attitude that the player takes toward playing the game. There are three distinct attitudes that players take when they play video games. I call these the goal-seeking attitude, the narrative attitude, and the dollhouse attitude. Each of these attitudes has a distinctive impact on the player’s aesthetic experience. There are certain qualities of games that appeal to one attitude or another, while there are other qualities that can be aesthetically transformed when players take different attitudes toward their play. The aesthetics of video games must account for how the game is crafted alongside the player’s attitude toward their play (2024: 3-4).

Some theorists claim that games are “transmedial”, meaning that the same game can be played in different media. It is unclear, however, what are the limits of transmedial games. Are all games in-principle transmedial, or only some? One suggestion offered by Jesper Juul is that, if games are understood as sets of rules, then a game is transmedial if its rules can be either implemented or adapted into some new media. I argue against this view on the grounds that the rules of many games are dependent on the game’s media such that they cannot be adapted to a new medium. As such the games-as-rules view of transmediality is not restrictive enough. To add the necessary restriction, I suggest that games are transmedial, not only when they contain the same rules, but also when it requires the same set of skills to play each. I further argue that a skill-set view of transmediality is better able to account for many common intuitions about games.

Technological advancements often lead to revolutions in the creation of art; but, what is unclear is whether such advancements always correspond to revolutions regarding the artistic medium. The notion of an artistic medium is central to our thinking about, engagement with, and appreciation of art. Accounts of the interpretation, understanding, and experience of art must at some point grapple with the role of the artistic medium against such endeavors. Moreover, artists do not choose their medium by accident, but presumably do so with an eye to the specific and unique affordances of their chosen medium. This chapter will explore the ways in which technology affects these issues. One question we could ask is, when does some technology itself become a new artistic medium? Some technological advancements result in the creation of a new artistic medium—like photography—while others do not—like procedural music. Finding “technology” itself to be too broad of a concept to define a distinctive and theoretically useful notion of an artistic medium, this chapter will examine generally what sort of barriers or challenges one might face when thinking of different technologies as themselves constituting an artistic medium. Specific attention will be paid to the notion of the medium and the theoretical and aesthetic work that such a notion plays in regard to works of computer art.

Traditional monist theories of art fail to account for the diversity of objects that intuitively strike many as belonging to the category art. Some today argue that the solution to this problem requires the adoption of some version of pluralism to account for the diversity of art. We examine one recent attempt, which holds that the correct account of art must recognize the plurality of concepts of art. However, we criticize this account of concept pluralism as being unable to offer an explanation of why some concept is an art concept. Instead, many of the disagreements over the definition of art could be reconciled by recognizing that works of art can be valued in a plurality of ways. By recognizing a plurality of values for art, we claim further that the definition of art becomes a non-issue.

Ethics in video gaming is broad topic that extends beyond the familiar instances of “moral panics”. This chapter will first divide ethical issues into internal and external moral questions. Roughly, this equates to a distinction between the ethics in games and the ethics of games. The ethical issues internal to video games arise due to both their status as fictions and their status as games. Many games afford players the opportunity to perform violent and vicious acts; however, these are of course fictional actions and are often contextualized as part of the game’s competitive play. This raises the general question whether it can ever be morally wrong to perform some fictional action in a video game. To approach this question, this section will first consider how moral values are inherent within games. Players engage with the embedded moral values of games both at the level of their narratives and their rules. Games become objects for moral reflection, not only through the stories that they tell, but also through the ways in which players are invited to engage actively with those stories. Next, external ethical issues are those that focus on the nature of the gaming industry and gaming cultures. The gaming industry has notoriously struggled with representations of gender and race, both in their workforce and in the games that they produce. Turning to the ecological impacts, the gaming industry is a major source of e-waste through the production of gaming technologies. The hardware used in gaming has a lifecycle that begins with the exploitation of resource-rich developing countries that produce the precious materials used in computer screens and processing chips and ends with those same products being dumped in toxic landfills in other developing countries. Additionally, gaming is a major source of energy consumption, particularly as cloud gaming servers are required to run continuously. When considering the ethics of games, such social and ecological concerns must surely figure in one’s moral calculation. Finally, some moral issues straddle the line between the above distinction between internal and external due to the porous nature of virtual interactivity, particularly regarding multiplayer games. Various gaming cultures struggle with their own ethical issues—from the failure to promote sportsmanship in e-sports to the widespread harassment of players in online platforms. This final section will briefly consider problems with multiplayer games, harassment, and trolling.

Is it ever morally wrong to enjoy fantasizing about immoral things? Many video games allow players to commit numerous violent and immoral acts. But, should players worry about the morality of their virtual actions? A common argument is that games offer merely the virtual representation of violence. No one is actually harmed by committing a violent act in a game. So, it cannot be morally wrong to perform such acts. While this is an intuitive argument, it does not resolve the issue. Focusing on why individual players are motivated to entertain immoral and violent fantasies, Video Games, Violence, and the Ethics of Fantasy advances debates about the ethical criticism of art, not only by shining light on the interesting and under-examined case of virtual fantasies, but also by its novel application of a virtue ethical account. Video games are works of fiction that enable players to entertain a fantasy. So, a full understanding of the ethical criticism of video games must focus attention on why individual players are motivated to entertain immoral and violent fantasies. Video Games, Violence, and the Ethics of Fantasy engages with debates and critical discussions of games in both the popular media and recent work in philosophy, psychology, media studies, and game studies.

Should we take into account an artist's personal moral failings when appreciating or evaluating the work? In this essay, I seek to expand Berys Gaut's account of ethicism by showing how moral judgment of an artist's private moral actions can figure in one's overall evaluation of their work. To expand Gaut's view, I argue that the artist's personal morality is relevant to our evaluation of their work because we may only come to understand the point of view of the work, and therefore the work's prescribed attitude, by examining the values, attitudes, and behaviors of the artist. This view is defended against a rival account offered by Bernard Wills and Jason Holt, which holds that the artistic evaluation of an artist's work is independent from the moral evaluation of their life except in extreme cases.

Many philosophers and music theorists have claimed that music is a language, though whether this is meant metaphorically or literally is often unclear. If the claim is meant literally, then it faces serious difficulty—many find it compelling to think that music cannot be a language because it lacks any semantic value. On the other hand, if it is meant metaphorically, then it is not clear what is gained by the metaphor—it is not clear what the metaphor is meant to illuminate. Considering the claim as a metaphor, I take it that what a theorist who speaks in this way is trying to draw our attention to is that there are interesting and illuminating parallels between music and language that might be philosophicallysignificant. Ifthisistheirpoint,thenthequestionis:whatinteresting parallel is it that could be so philosophically significant?

The intuitive, folk concept of hypocrisy is not a unified moral category. While many theorists hold that all cases of hypocrisy involve some form of deception, I argue that this is not the case. Instead, I argue for a disjunctive account of hypocrisy whereby all cases of “hypocrisy” involve either the deceiving of others about the sincerity of an agent's beliefs or the lack of will to carry through with the demands of an agent's sincere beliefs. Thus, all cases of hypocrisy can be described either as cases of deception or as cases of akrasia. If this analysis correct, then I suggest further that the moral status of all instances of hypocrisy must be reduced either to the moral blameworthiness of deception or to the moral blameworthiness of akrasia. There can be no unified account of the moral wrongness of “hypocrisy” that holds across the disjunction.

Is it ever morally wrong for a consumer to imagine something immoral in a work of fiction, or for an author to prompt such imagining? Brandon Cooke has recently argued that it cannot be. On Cooke’s account, fictive imagining is immune to moral criticism because such cases of imagining do not amount to the endorsement of the immoral content, nor do they imply that the authors of such fictions necessarily endorse their contents. We argue against Cooke that in fact fictively imagining something immoral can be morally blameworthy, specifically in cases where fictive imagining is engaged in the service of immoral desires. Taking one potent case—namely, rape-fantasy pornography—we argue that the proper engagement with pornography requires the engagement of the consumer’s desires. Insofar as it is morally wrong to desire something immoral, or to encourage others to desire something immoral, then consumers can be held morally blameworthy for engaging in such fictive imaginings and works of fiction that are crafted to fit these purposes can be open to moral condemnation.

Gracyk, Kania, and Davies all agree that the rock tradition is distinctive for the central place that it gives to the appreciation of recorded tracks. But we should not be led by those arguments to conclude that the central position of the recorded track makes such appreciation the exclusive interest in rock. I argue that both songwriting and live performance are also central to the rock tradition by showing that the practice of recording tracks admits of a diversity of goals and aims that is not exhausted by a concern for track construction.

Philosophers of music often appeal to intuition to defend ontological theories of musical works. This practice is worrisome as it is rather unclear just how widely shared are the intuitions that philosophers appeal to. In this paper, I will first offer a brief overview of the debate over the ontology of musical works. I will argue that this debate is driven by a conflict between two seemingly plausible intuitions—the repeatability intuition and the creatability intuition—both of which may be defended on the grounds that they are reflective of our actual musical practices. The problem facing philosophers within this debate is that there is no clear way to determine which of the two conflicting intuitions is more reflective of our musical practices. Finally, I offer discussion of an experimental study that was designed to test participants' intuitions regarding the repeatability of musical works. The evidence presented there suggests that the participants broadly accept the repeatability of musical works, but in a much narrower way than philosophers would likely accept.

Can pornographic depictions have artistic value? Much pornography closely resembles art, at least in many superficial respects. Films, photographs, paintings—all of these can have artistic value. Of course, films, photographs and paintings can also be pornographic. If some photographs have artistic value, and some photographs are pornographic, can pornographic photographs have artistic value too? I argue that pornography may only possess artistic value despite, not by virtue of, its pornographic content.

Can a player be held morally responsible for the choices that she makes within a videogame? Do the moral choices that the player makes reflect in any way on the player’s actual moral sensibilities? Many videogames offer players the options to make numerous choices within the game, including moral choices. But the scope of these choices is quite limited. I attempt to analyze these issues by drawing on philosophical debates about the nature of free will. Many philosophers worry that, if our actions are predetermined, then we cannot be held morally responsible for them. However, Harry Frankfurt’s compatibilist account of free will suggests that an agent can be held morally responsible for actions that she wills, even if the agent is not free to act otherwise. Using Frankfurt’s analysis, I suggest that videogames represent deterministic worlds in which players lack the ability to freely choose what they do, and yet players can be held morally responsible for some of their actions, specifically those actions that the player wants to do. Finally, I offer some speculative comments on how these considerations might impact our understanding of the player’s moral psychology as it relates to the ethics of imagined fictional events.

In a recent pair of articles, Aaron Ridley and Andrew Kania have debated the merits of the study of musical ontology. Ridley contends that the study of musical ontology is orthogonal to more pressing concerns over the value of music. Kania rejects this, arguing that a theory of the value of music must begin with an understanding of the ontology of music. In this essay, I will argue that, despite Kania's rejections, Ridley's criticism exposes a false methodological assumption that needs to be addressed—a poorly understood adherence to the priority of ontology, which is the belief that the resolution of ontological disputes must precede our understanding of the evaluation of musical performances. I will argue that there is a central claim at the heart of Ridley's criticisms that must be appreciated—that standard accounts of the ontology of music make unwarranted assumptions about the rigidity of the identification of musical performances—and yet Kania is right to claim that the resolution of some ontological questions will play some role in our evaluation of musical performances. I will argue that part of the disagreement between Ridley and Kania can be resolved by accepting a greatly weakened version of the priority of ontology.

Accounts of the ontology of musical works seek to uncover what metaphysically speaking a musical work is and how we should identify instances of musical works. In this article, I examine the curious case of the mash-up and seek to address two questions: are mash-ups musical works in their own right and what is the relationship between the mash-up and its source materials? As mash-ups are part of the broader tradition of rock, I situate this discussion within an ontology of rock as defended by Theodore Gracyk and Stephen Davies and offer some interpretation as to what their positions might be in regard to mash-ups. Finally, I argue that the account of mash-ups that best makes sense of our evaluative practices would hold that they are emergent musical works that are distinct in their own right and yet also happen to be cases of musical works that instantiate parts of other musical works.

What does it mean to describe a work of art as being ‘original’? Frank Sibley believed that works of art are not valued for their originality independently of their aesthetic value. He argued that a work may be described as being ‘original’ if it is innovative and also exhibits some further aesthetic value. In this essay, I argue against this conjunctive account of originality as some kind of innovation-plus-value. I claim that a work may be valued for and described as being ‘original’ if the work serves as the origin of some wider movement within the art world.