What is fun made of?
Ask a game designer what makes a game fun, and you'll get a different answer every time. Challenge. Progression. Story. Mastery. These are all true, but they describe symptoms of fun, not its cause. The deepest fun — the kind players remember years later, the kind that generates stories they tell their friends — comes from a single source: emergence.
Emergence is what happens when a game is built from independent local actors — rules, AI, physics, player actions — that interact without a script. No designer wrote the scene that unfolds. No script planned the chain of events. The actors collide, combine, and cascade. The result is a dynamic causality wave: a chain of consequences that propagates through the game state, each interaction spawning new possibilities, each possibility creating new interactions. This wave is the essence of fun.
Emergence vs. progression
Game scholar Jesper Juul formalized the distinction in his 2002 paper "The Open and the Closed: Games of Emergence and Progression". Games of progression present serially introduced, predefined challenges — a locked door, a key, a corridor. Games of emergence offer "a small number of rules that combine and yield large numbers of game variations, which the players then design strategies for dealing with."
Chess is the canonical emergent game. Its rules fit on a page, yet its possibility space exceeds 10^43 reachable positions. No player has ever played the same game twice. This is the property that makes emergent games replayable for decades.
But emergence in modern AAA games goes far beyond chess. It arises not from abstract rules on a board, but from simulated systems — physics, AI, lighting, sound propagation, faction relationships, multiplayer connectivity — each acting independently, each unaware of the others, yet together producing experiences no one designed. The whole becomes greater than the sum of its parts.
The causality wave
Consider what happens when a player acts in an emergent game world. The action triggers a local response — a guard hears a noise, a car catches fire, a machine's component breaks off. That response triggers another: the guard calls for backup, the fire spreads to a nearby vehicle, the machine staggers and exposes a weak point. Each consequence becomes the cause of the next. The wave propagates.
The wave is dynamic because it changes the game state in real time — no two waves are identical. It is causal because each link is a genuine cause-and-effect chain, not a scripted trigger. And it is fun because the player is both the initiator and the discoverer: they start the wave, then watch in delight as it unfolds in ways they never predicted.
GTA Vice City: The sandbox wave
Released in October 2002 by Rockstar North, Grand Theft Auto: Vice City dropped players into a sun-soaked Miami analogue with a simple set of verbs: drive, shoot, run, buy property. The game's systems — traffic simulation, pedestrian AI, a six-star wanted-level hierarchy, physics, fire propagation, mission scripting — operated independently. The magic happened at their intersections.
Vice City's wanted-level system is a masterclass in emergent design. Each star is not a scripted event but a threshold that unlocks new AI behaviors: one star sends foot-patrol officers with nightsticks; three stars dispatch a police helicopter and spike strips; five stars bring FBI agents in Ranchers; six stars deploy military soldiers in Rhino tanks. The escalation is spatial, not cinematic — the city itself becomes the battlefield as roadblocks close off routes and helicopters track you from above.
None of this is scripted. The GTA III-era engine's CWanted system acts as a director, tracking the player's crime level and spawning appropriate responses. Individual officers each have their own AI (CPedIntelligence) that handles pathfinding, combat, and driving independently. When these systems interact — a police car chasing you through an intersection collides with a civilian vehicle, which flips and catches fire, which spreads to a nearby gas station — the result is a causality wave that no designer planned.
I was doing a mission in Ocean Beach when I accidentally sideswiped a police car. One star. No big deal — I sped down the strip, lost the cop in traffic, and thought I was clear. But my car was damaged and started smoking. I bailed on foot near a gas station. The car rolled into a pump and exploded.
The explosion triggered a two-star wanted level. The fire spread to a nearby bus stop where three pedestrians were waiting. They panicked and ran into traffic. A civilian car swerved to avoid them and T-boned a police cruiser. Now I'm at three stars. A helicopter appears overhead.
I steal a firetruck — ironically, to use as a getaway vehicle — and the firetruck itself catches fire from the spreading blaze. I bail again. The firetruck rolls driverless into a crowd. Four stars. SWAT vans appear. I'm hiding behind a dumpster watching the entire block descend into chaos that I started with one bad turn. No script wrote this. No designer planned it. The systems just talked to each other, and I was the spark.
Thief II: The Metal Age — Systemic stealth
Released in March 2000 by Looking Glass Studios, Thief II: The Metal Age is the seminal immersive sim. Project Director Steve Pearsall called it a "first-person sneaker" — combat is the option of last resort. The game's genius lies in how its systems combine: a light gem that measures visibility, surface-based sound propagation, NPC patrol scheduling, and a toolkit of elemental arrows that manipulate the environment.
Water arrows douse torches, creating new shadows. Moss arrows soften loud floors. Rope arrows create new paths. Noisemaker arrows distract guards. Each tool is a simple local actor — but when combined with the guard AI, which investigates sounds, calls for backup, and follows patrol routes, the interactions create an emergent stealth experience that no linear game can match.
The Dark Engine's sound system deserves special note. Eric Brosius and the sound team gave each "room brush" distinct acoustic properties, simulating how real noises bounce off surfaces. When you close your eyes, you can tell what surface you're walking on by the sound. This acoustic simulation feeds directly into the guard AI's hearing — another independent actor that combines with the player's movement choices to create emergent tension.
In the First City Bank and Trust mission, I needed to reach the vault on the second floor. Two guards patrolled the main corridor — too well-lit to sneak past, too alert to blackjack. I had one water arrow and one moss arrow.
I shot the water arrow at the torch near the stairwell. The guard on patrol noticed the light go out and walked over to investigate, muttering about the draft. While he was checking the torch, I crept across the tile floor — but the tiles were loud. I'd saved myself with the moss arrow, softening the floor just in time. The guard heard a faint scrape but couldn't locate it. He called to his partner, who left his post to help search.
Now the vault corridor was empty. I slipped through, picked the lock, and was inside before either guard returned to their route. No walkthrough suggested this approach. I invented it from the tools and the systems. The guards' AI — their curiosity, their communication, their patrol logic — combined with the light and sound simulation to create a puzzle that solved itself in a way no designer scripted.
Dark Souls: Emergent multiplayer
Dark Souls (FromSoftware, 2011) is famous for its difficulty, but its true innovation is its asynchronous multiplayer. Director Hidetaka Miyazaki designed a world where players interact without meeting — messages scrawled on the ground, bloodstains that replay another player's death, and invasions that turn another player's world into your hunting ground.
The Gravelord Servant covenant is the purest expression of emergent multiplayer. A Gravelord Servant uses an Eye of Death to "infect" up to three other players' worlds with empowered red phantom enemies — but only if those players are in New Game Plus. The infected players see a summon sign that allows them to invade the Gravelord's world and end the curse by killing them. Meanwhile, the Gravelord is also vulnerable to regular invasions from Darkwraiths and Darkmoon Blades.
No one designed the specific scenarios that emerge from this system. A Gravelord might infect three players, then find themselves invaded by all three simultaneously plus a fourth random invader — a 1v4 fight they never planned for. The systems are simple: infect, invade, defend. The emergent result is a multiplayer experience that generates unique stories every session.
I was invaded in Sen's Fortress. The invader was clearly a veteran — fast-rolling in full giant armor, chasing me through the blade-trap corridor with confidence. I had low health and no Estus left. I was going to die.
But I had one thing: the Force miracle, which creates a shockwave that knocks back nearby enemies. I ran to the narrow bridge outside, waited for the invader to follow, and cast Force as they stepped onto the bridge. The shockwave knocked them off the edge. They fell to their death in the pit below.
The invasion message appeared: Target Destroyed. I received a wave gesture from the invader's phantom before it faded — a sign of respect for a kill that no one planned. The Force miracle was designed as a defensive tool, not a killing blow. But Sen's Fortress has narrow bridges with no railings. The miracle's knockback, the bridge's geometry, and the invasion system combined into an emergent execution that felt like my kill, not the game's.
Horizon Forbidden West: Component combat
Horizon Forbidden West (Guerrilla Games, 2022) builds emergence into its combat through component-based machine design. Every machine is an assembly of parts — weapons, armor plates, resource containers, cooling canisters — each with its own health, behavior, and consequences when destroyed. Tear off a Clawstrider's weapon, and you can pick it up and use it. Destroy a Frostclaw's cooling unit, and it enters a berserk rage. Knock off a Widemaw's armor plates, and its vulnerable internals are exposed.
The override system adds another layer. Aloy can turn machines to her side, choosing between Aggressive mode (the machine seeks out enemies) and Defensive mode (it only fights when attacked). An overridden Bristleback fighting alongside you against a Thunderjaw creates a combat scenario that neither the player nor the designer fully controlled — the machines' AI, their component states, and the terrain all interact to produce a unique battle.
Guerrilla's machine design lead, Arjen Zopfi, described the challenge: making encounters with both human enemies and machines support different tactics, avoiding the "bad outcome" where clashing combat styles drove players into a single strategy. The goal was the opposite — to ensure every fight could unfold differently based on which components the player targeted, which machines they overrode, and how the machines' AI responded to each other.
I was fighting a Thunderjaw — one of the most dangerous machines in the game — in a canyon near Thornmarsh. It had two disc launchers on its back and a mouth that could bite me in half. I was underleveled and out of healing.
First, I used Tearblast arrows to rip off one of its disc launchers. Then I ran to the other side of the canyon and overrode a nearby Bristleback in Aggressive mode. The Bristleback charged the Thunderjaw. While they fought, I circled around, picked up the torn-off disc launcher from the ground, and used it against the Thunderjaw from behind.
The Thunderjaw's AI now had to choose between two threats. It turned to fight the Bristleback, exposing its back. I hit its remaining disc launcher with another Tearblast. The launcher fell to the ground. The Bristleback was still attacking. I grabbed the second launcher. The Thunderjaw was now fighting one of its own kind's weapons, wielded by me, while being harassed by an overridden machine. None of this was scripted. The component system, the override system, and the machine AI combined into a battle that felt like my invention.
Deus Ex: The proximity mine ladder
No discussion of emergence is complete without Deus Ex (Ion Storm Austin, 2000). Lead Designer Harvey Smith documented the most famous emergent exploit in game design history: the proximity mine ladder.
Deus Ex was built on a systemic design philosophy. Instead of hard-coding specific interactions between individual game objects, the team linked interactions on a class-to-class basis. Proximity mines were physical objects. The player could attach and detach them. They had collision geometry. The player could stand on them. The player's own mines didn't detonate on the player.
One player discovered that you could attach a proximity mine to a wall, hop up on it, place another mine higher up, hop to that one, turn around, grab the first mine, and repeat. You could climb any wall in the game. Players reached rooftops the designers never intended anyone to access, took screenshots from impossible vantage points, and shared them online.
Harvey Smith's response was not to patch it. He applauded it: "That guy is such a small percentage of the industry, but it's so clever, and it's such a creative use of the game. It's a metagame, at some level. You've just got to applaud that."
This is the essence of emergence. The designers didn't build a climbing system. They built independent rules — physics, collision, item attachment — and the player discovered a combination that produced a behavior no one designed. The causality wave: attach mine → stand on mine → attach another → climb. Each step follows logically from the rules, but the composite behavior is emergent.
Desirable vs. undesirable emergence
Not all emergence is fun. Harvey Smith distinguished between desirable emergence — interactions that create interesting gameplay — and degenerate emergence — exploits that trivialize or break the game. The prox mine ladder is borderline: it's a creative exploit that doesn't ruin the game because it requires patience and doesn't trivialize the core challenges. But the same systemic philosophy also produced degenerative exploits that the team didn't catch until after ship.
The distinction matters for designers. Emergence is not a feature you add — it's a property that arises from the density and consistency of your systemic interactions. The more your game elements interact on a class-to-class basis (Thief II's tools + light + sound + AI), the more desirable emergence you get. The more special-case scripting you use (locked doors that only open with one key), the less emergence is possible.
Why emergence is the essence of fun
Progression games teach you the rules and then test you on them. Emergent games give you the rules and let you discover what they mean. The difference is the difference between taking a test and conducting an experiment. One has a right answer. The other has your answer.
The causality wave — the propagation of consequences through a system of independent local actors — is the mechanism that makes this possible. Each actor is simple. Each interaction is local. But the wave that ripples through the system is complex, dynamic, and irreducible. It cannot be predicted. It can only be experienced.
This is the essence of fun in games. Not the graphics. Not the story. Not the difficulty. The moment when the systems talk to each other and something happens that no one planned — and you caused it.
References
- Juul, J. (2002). "The Open and the Closed: Games of Emergence and Progression." Computer Games and Digital Cultures Conference, Tampere University Press.
- Smith, H. (2003). "Systemic Level Design." GDC Presentation, Ion Storm Austin. Scribd archive
- Smith, H. "The Subversion Game: An Interview With Harvey Smith." Game Developer. gamedeveloper.com
- Adams, E. & Dormans, J. (2012). Game Mechanics: Advanced Game Design. New Riders. (Emergence and Progression, Chapter 2; Complex Systems and the Structure of Emergence, Chapter 3)
- Pearsall, S. (2000). "Thief 2: The Metal Age Interview." RPG Vault, IGN. Archive.org
- Cheetham, J. "The (Almost) Perfect Level Design of Thief II: The Metal Age." Medium. medium.com
- GTA Wiki. "Wanted Level in Grand Theft Auto: Vice City." gta.wiki
- Filter Cutter. "GTA 3 — AI from two decades ago." Medium. medium.com
- FromSoft Wiki. "Gravelord Servant (Dark Souls)." fromsoftwiki.org
- Zopfi, A. "Evolving the machine creatures of Horizon Forbidden West." Game Developer. gamedeveloper.com
- Horizon Wiki. "Override." horizon.fandom.com
- Seitz, K. "Multiplicative Gameplay." Bachelor's thesis, DVB Bayern. (Multiplicative Design and emergence)
- Aalto University (2024). "Twilight Bazaar: Engineering Emergence through Higher Orderness in Games." aaltodoc.aalto.fi
- Hunicke, R., LeBlanc, M., & Zubek, R. (2004). "MDA: A Formal Approach to Game Design and Game Research." AAAI Workshop on Challenges in Game AI.
